"In my life, be lifted high
In our world, be lifted high
In our love, be lifted high"
I sang this today at church. Twice. Why did I stay for the second service? Because, after I gathered all my kids (whom all seem to head different directions), re-organized some food in the Element room, hugged some sweet old friends who were visiting from Chattanooga, borrowed a bandaid for my boy's booboo, cleaned up my girl's spilled tea, I headed downstairs. And, just about ran into a surprise guest. B's birthdad.
A flood of emotions ran through me. I'm not sure what registered on my face, but I managed a smile and a hug and a "christian-like" welcome. Inside seated in "my" church was B's Grandma and Grandpa. Not my parents who had snuggled just last week with him on our couch, reading books and singing silly songs. But, the grandparents who had visited my bitty boy (our bitty boy?) every week in the county social services office as we went through the process. What process? The reunification process. The process where we - as foster parents- bit our nails and waited for judges to make decisions for this little child whom we fed and rocked and taught to walk. The process of court dates and our happy news that we could adopt him paired with their sad news of loss.
Two families brought together by our conjoined love for one little bright-eyed boy. Our story forever connected by choices that cannot be unmade. A story that is really his story, though he is not quite old enough to understand. So he sat on my lap and looked for his Daddy to walk up on stage to preach. He sat next to his sister- though she grew in my belly and he did not. He sat two seats over from his birthdad and we all sang the song. Worship can stir up a heart. And my prayer was this: In this situation, Lord, be lifted high. In this unique relationship, Lord, be glorified. In B's life and in his understanding of his adoption and in his identity, and in his loss/ gain- Oh Lord, be lifted high.
Because just minutes earlier, before I had known they would be there, I sat in a service while my Hunnie preached the Word. While he challenged us to choose holiness instead of being like the world. Because, from the world's standpoint, this situation was a bit awkward, maybe even scary. From the world's standpoint, why would I even want openness with his birthfamily? From the world's standpoint, it would be too messy and too hard. So many people are surprised when I tell them that we have begun to meet up at the park with this family. My response is that, the more people that B has who love him, the better. And they do love him, they just could not provide an environment for him to grow up in.
Perhaps in this life, choosing holiness means truly welcoming them to church (though it felt like they had crossed a boundary.) Perhaps, choosing holiness means caring about each of these individuals and their relationship with God and not just B's. Perhaps, choosing holiness looks different in our situation than other people's adoption stories. Perhaps it is somewhat beautiful that a family can come together in the community of a church, and a softening of a heart can happen as the words of worship consume us.
A lot of emotions surrounded our adoption process. Guilt, fear, blame, anxiousness, hope, concern, compassion, anger, frustration, and joy. It was truly a road that I was powerless to walk-- on my own. It was so beyond me-- I knew that it would have to be something that God did in me. So, then we also sang this song today.
"....No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny...."
How true today. It was Christ who wrote our story- who leads us in this unique journey of open adoption and Who lead us together today. It was He who was there at B's first cry, when I was not... and who will be there at his final breath. My knees felt weak, but still today in the awe of this moment, there I stood, with babe on hip- there in the power of Christ I stood.
In our world, be lifted high
In our love, be lifted high"
I sang this today at church. Twice. Why did I stay for the second service? Because, after I gathered all my kids (whom all seem to head different directions), re-organized some food in the Element room, hugged some sweet old friends who were visiting from Chattanooga, borrowed a bandaid for my boy's booboo, cleaned up my girl's spilled tea, I headed downstairs. And, just about ran into a surprise guest. B's birthdad.
A flood of emotions ran through me. I'm not sure what registered on my face, but I managed a smile and a hug and a "christian-like" welcome. Inside seated in "my" church was B's Grandma and Grandpa. Not my parents who had snuggled just last week with him on our couch, reading books and singing silly songs. But, the grandparents who had visited my bitty boy (our bitty boy?) every week in the county social services office as we went through the process. What process? The reunification process. The process where we - as foster parents- bit our nails and waited for judges to make decisions for this little child whom we fed and rocked and taught to walk. The process of court dates and our happy news that we could adopt him paired with their sad news of loss.
Two families brought together by our conjoined love for one little bright-eyed boy. Our story forever connected by choices that cannot be unmade. A story that is really his story, though he is not quite old enough to understand. So he sat on my lap and looked for his Daddy to walk up on stage to preach. He sat next to his sister- though she grew in my belly and he did not. He sat two seats over from his birthdad and we all sang the song. Worship can stir up a heart. And my prayer was this: In this situation, Lord, be lifted high. In this unique relationship, Lord, be glorified. In B's life and in his understanding of his adoption and in his identity, and in his loss/ gain- Oh Lord, be lifted high.
Because just minutes earlier, before I had known they would be there, I sat in a service while my Hunnie preached the Word. While he challenged us to choose holiness instead of being like the world. Because, from the world's standpoint, this situation was a bit awkward, maybe even scary. From the world's standpoint, why would I even want openness with his birthfamily? From the world's standpoint, it would be too messy and too hard. So many people are surprised when I tell them that we have begun to meet up at the park with this family. My response is that, the more people that B has who love him, the better. And they do love him, they just could not provide an environment for him to grow up in.
Perhaps in this life, choosing holiness means truly welcoming them to church (though it felt like they had crossed a boundary.) Perhaps, choosing holiness means caring about each of these individuals and their relationship with God and not just B's. Perhaps, choosing holiness looks different in our situation than other people's adoption stories. Perhaps it is somewhat beautiful that a family can come together in the community of a church, and a softening of a heart can happen as the words of worship consume us.
A lot of emotions surrounded our adoption process. Guilt, fear, blame, anxiousness, hope, concern, compassion, anger, frustration, and joy. It was truly a road that I was powerless to walk-- on my own. It was so beyond me-- I knew that it would have to be something that God did in me. So, then we also sang this song today.
"....No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny...."
How true today. It was Christ who wrote our story- who leads us in this unique journey of open adoption and Who lead us together today. It was He who was there at B's first cry, when I was not... and who will be there at his final breath. My knees felt weak, but still today in the awe of this moment, there I stood, with babe on hip- there in the power of Christ I stood.