Raw Data

Cobwebs are gross! They stick to you. You can walk right into them and it takes days to find all the stuff stuck in places you didn't know existed! Yet, I had to walk into this one. It kept haunting me, calling to me from the depths of cyberland. So, here goes.

Since way-back-when in 2011 we've come such a long way, yet in some ways, it's still the same.  We celebrated Sarah's first Familyversary last November. I wanted to post about how amazing it was or how our world was peter pan perfect. But it wasn't and I couldn't. Don't misunderstand me, please. She is an amazing addition to our family. We adore her. We want the BEST for her.

Yet, we were in the throes of some deep stuff. We were navigating an uncharted, crazy storm. Adoption is wonderful and it can be hard. These kids come from hard places of trauma and grief and loss and the parenting looks really different, especially when they are in the thick of it. And that's where our sweet baby was -- and in some ways still is -- in the middle of hard stuff.

How about some raw data?

Harry and I made some major changes at the one-year mark. One involved having him put Sarah to bed at night. Sounds simple.?.

She cried so hard the first night,

she.puked.on.him.

It was one of the hardest, most loving things we could have done. In the end, it has helped her to open up her world a bit. She has grown.

Hard fought growth worth every tear, every sigh, every bit of pain.

Still, today, she kind of panics when he comes home. She's afraid I will leave. It may only be for groceries.  But, she needs to know I plan to come home. So I tell her. I make it part of our dialogue in life.

"Mommy's safe, and it's ok. Mommy's in charge, and it's ok. Mommy's coming back, and it's ok. Sarah's safe at home!" (imagine it to the tune of "Jimmy Crack Corn"). Sometimes the words change, but the message is the same. She needs to hear it. See it. Watch it. Test it. Live it. Over and over again.

And, Sarah adores her daddy now. He's worked so hard, so diligently, so patiently, so lovingly, so kindly, so intentionally with her. She's begun to open the door to her heart. Oh, she squeals when he walks through the door at the end of the workday!

But, then, she's not really sure how to *love* two people, how to let both mommy and daddy in. She isn't sure yet if she will have to give one up in order to *gain* the other. So far, life has taught her that it's one at a time and at some point, she has to let go of that one. How frightening!

She's also stopped "mommy shopping." Yes, until the last few months she was hedging her bets. Trust me, people are drawn to her in an uncanny way. So, she'd be coy and sweet and kind of "try out" some folks. But now, when a stranger pays her attention, she buries her face in my arms and smiles shyly. Or she might give a hearty HI! but she stays close.

We are winning.

We are learning about therapeutic parenting. We began working with an adoption/attachment therapist to help us get it right. The model is wonderful. It's so simple, it's hard.

It's 1Corinthians 13 lived out.

Phew.

Tall order for these human parents!

But our God will supply all our needs according to what He has (um, everything!). By the grace of almighty God, He will restore what the locusts have eaten. Those ashes will become beautiful.

Healing is a process.

It's not microwavable. There are no steroid injections. Just steady, sometimes slow, occasionally grueling healing.

With lots of steady prayer!