I keep getting asked by folks why we are choosing to adopt
both internationally and a child with special needs. I have a couple answers to that.
First, I should just
be honest with you and say, I don’t know.
We just want to obey God. We are
confident that he is leading us to adopt an Asian child with special
needs. We figure that will be easier to
do to if we adopt a child from China and request that he has special
needs. It’s just a hunch, but there are
probably more Asians in China than in America.
And the need is great.
With China’s one child policy, little boys with imperfections as minor
as birthmarks and as profound as Fetal Alcohol Sydrome are literally abandoned
in the streets. Is there a more special
need than to not be left an orphan?
Also, I’ve come to realize I have a pretty high threshold
for weird. Things that would drive
others batty make me feel comfortable.
Speech delay? Been there. Done that.
Got the best speech therapist in my county on speed dial. Born addicted to drugs? Dude, I literally give speeches about
that. Infectious Disease? They already know me at MCV. Missing a limb? I’m all over it. Deaf child?
I’m friends with a woman who used to teach ASL at the college
level. Autism? I’ve got friends who are already giving me
information.
Don’t believe I’m being glib about this. I know special needs are profound game
changers. I’ve cried alongside friends over the heartaches
their children must bear. I know it will
be hard. I know it will hurt.
By being friends with some women who have children with
special needs, I’ve noticed a couple of things.
Having a kid who has weekly doctor’s appointments or physical therapy
sessions is simultaneously a heartache and a joy. It is both a huge deal that changes
everything and also just another thing you have to figure out. My son will be my son and his needs will just
be his needs. And we will meet them as
God provides. We will struggle with
making sure that Charlie doesn’t get all our energy and affection. We will struggle with Henry and Grace
learning that they may need to have fewer things
because of Charlie. We will struggle to
relearn what our family’s “normal” looks like.
There’s also a selfish part of this. I have a friend who has a son with
Prader-Willi syndrome. You’ve probably
never heard of that. It’s rare. And it is a difficult and complicated
diagnoses. But my friend is also just a
regular Mom. Really. She’s awesome and I love her, but like most
of us, she doesn’t always get to bathe everyday, her house only gets really
cleaned before company comes over, and, at any given moment, she probably has food
stuck to her shirt. She doesn’t have
wings or a halo. But here’s the thing—she
looks more like Jesus than anyone I know.
She is an advocate—at times knowing more about her son’s diagnoses than
pediatricians. She is a cheerleader, a
teacher, a comforter, a Mommy. The pain she bears for the sake of her son enables her to see many things rightly. She doesn't sweat the small stuff, because frankly, she just doesn't have time. And I
want that. I want a family that reflects the goodness of
God. The end.
I want my family to be aware of its need for Jesus. I want us to never get so self-sufficient
that we forget who is the Great Provider.
I want for all of my kids to know what real love looks like—a love that
doesn’t count the cost of suffering, a love that chooses to be uncomfortable
for the sake of another, a love that values joy over happiness, redemption over
ease, reconciliation over smoothness, grace over rightness, resurrection over
complacency.
And, there’s also this:
When I was lost, broken, spiritually paralyzed, and an
enemy, Jesus came for me. He left the
comforts of heaven and came to the chaos.
For me. And he was not content to
just forgive. He was not content to just
make me right before the Father. No, He
adopted me. He gave me a family. He gave me an inheritance. And
there’s nothing like the surety of love to set you free from all your fears.
We can do this.
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