The Dark Night: My Personal Journey Part 1

Preface: In adoption circles, there is a lot of talk about "stewarding your child's story." I probably am more open than most about some of the struggles our family faces because - in all honesty - it just is our reality, it is not invisible to onlookers, and Reactive Attachment Disorder(RAD)/PTSD do effect nearly every part of our life. Like other psyche and physiological disorders, it's a real thing. In general, we have always tried to face the "stuff" of life with an honest "realness" that doesn't sugarcoat issues, but perseveres against them head on. We also fully believe in dancing unashamed with joy, and taking risks that lead to adventure! Just keep it REAL, and be ALIVE, in all life's gloriously hard highs and lows!

Well, lately I have been sharing a lot more information about RAD, trauma parenting, and the hard side of adoption.

WHY? Do I hate adoption? Regret it? NO. Sometimes I have FELT that way, sure. Because it is HARD and painful sometimes. And there is loss and grief inherent in the very nature of a child needing a home they weren't born to. But it is also a very beautiful and absolutely NECESSARY blessing. My heart and my passion still lie with the orphan waiting for a home, and Dan and I pray and talk about when/how/etc we will adopt again. We still support Show Hope and other orphan ministries with devotion. HOWEVER, our hearts also have come to ache for the FAMILIES who will find themselves in hard places they never knew existed with their new children.

I 100% believe that there is NOT enough BLUNT, transparent, specific, real talk about the struggles of parenting children with trauma. I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR HOW MUCH THIS PARENTING WOULD TURN MY WORLD UPSIDE DOWN AND MAKE ME QUESTION SO MUCH THAT I SO EASILY BELIEVED BEFORE. I was not prepared for RAD. I was told there would be "struggle" and that attaching could be hard. I was told about "some" "more extreme" cases, but details were not given about the behaviors that our family experiences daily, relentlessly. RAD hit our family like a freight train, and I wish to God that someone had warned me it could be this way. About how it might effect me as a mom, and what to do - where to turn and how to cope- when we hit "crisis" level of feeling overwhelmed by this one, small, hurting child. In our effort not to label children with a disorder, I think we have ultimately put them and their new families at a disadvantage.

I am just one very small voice, but...

1. I believe that speaking transparently about MY struggle is valuable for educating others who are preparing to walk this adoption path. If your path is easier, praise Jesus! If your path is harder, then prayerfully you can be more prepared and proactive than I was!

2. I hope that I can encourage those who are "in the trenches" of the battle for a very hurting child right this moment. You are not alone when you feel like you are drowning. Someone "gets it", and there are lifeboats.

3. Finally, whether or not you are at all connected to adoption, I believe that God can use this and all of our stories to encourage each other that we are not ALONE in our struggles and failures. By sharing how God redeemed (and is still redeeming) my mess, hopefully you can renew your hope in Him to redeem yours. We are all broken jars, trying our best to hold sacred water. But God is the potter, and he is working to fill the gaps where we feel most broken and empty. We all have them. Let's praise together for his gentle, steady hand.

NOTE: Sharing this story is taking every ounce of vulnerability and transparency that I've got. I have been repeatedly prodded by the Holy Spirit, and inspired by Brennan Manning's book Abba's Child and the writings of Brene Brown, which have both played a huge part in my heart journey. You might get offended. You might not like what you see. But I hope you can be encouraged. I'm always one for going against the flow and breaking the silence.... So here goes:

In a recent seminar I attended on attachment parenting with trauma kids, one of the opening assignments was to write down just ONE thing that you wished you knew BEFORE adopting your choice of from a hard place. Then a few people were called on - in this safe zone of other parents walking the same road - to share what they wrote. I was shocked to find MY one thing was not only mirrored in the comments from others, but it was talked about with the first few slides of the PowerPoint. In a nutshell, I was NOT EVER, in my wildest dreams, expecting to struggle with rage and hatred for my child.

Rage.

Hatred.

Not just for a fleeting second. Not just in the heat of an argument. Too often on too many days.

For my child. My scared, scarred child with an unfathomable past, who I felt IMMEASURABLE EMPATHY for before. The one I prayed and hoped and longed for.

So many illusions and dreams died with the realization of these dark feelings within me.

I wish I knew then what I know now, through readings and therapy: that these feelings were not at the core. They were a mask. A way of coping with the incredibly painful HURT I was feeling, but could not escape. Usually, if a person hurts you routinely, you simply cut them out of your life. Don't hang around them. But when that person is a child who you dreamed of parenting your whole life... A person you can't escape and have to care for - putting your heart back in the line of fire day after day, in a war you never expected to last so long or take so many casualties... Well, then your unconscious tends to switch to plan B, because feeling the hurt sometimes simply HURTS TOO MUCH. So we get mad, blame the person, make them into a monster in our minds, or emotionally disengage all together. Sometimes a cycle of many of these. Sometimes a little of all of them. Being aware of the underlying hurt and FEELING IT and DEALING WITH IT - finding new ways to cope - is like the key that unlocks the emotional cage.

Had I understood this... So much of this could have been different. But it's a journey....

Where to begin?

Let me unpack the meanings here.

Rage: a fiery anger that flares and consumes. Not just a little angry, but a feeling of "going to erupt, out of control." It was during these times that A was the MOST outwardly defiant and aggressive, which only made me feel worse. From me in return, there was screaming and slamming and words said that were aimed to hurt her as much as she was hurting me. Not always, but enough to do their damage on both of our hearts.

Hatred: No, I NEVER wanted her to die a painful death, or for something horrible to happen to her. I never stopped CARING (which itself felt like some small, sad victory). However, my feelings against her went way beyond "I don't enjoy you" or "you annoy me." It was a deep loathing of her presence. I just needed to get AWAY from her. And when away, although I cared for her safety and generally found it easier to think about her fondly, I felt relieved and didn't miss anything about her company. Often on bad days I scowled at her as she death-stared me. It was the "mom look" times 100, and since she was constantly doing something to provoke it, it was also sometimes constant scowling when I looked in her direction. Compounding this was the fact that our praise would cause her to act WORSE, so we were afraid - literally - to praise. It only brought more suffering and insane behavior. So it was easier to just dislike her. She wasn't giving us many likable moments.

But it's important to understand that the rejection and RAD behaviors started on day 1. We did not get the reprieve of the so called "honeymoon phase." I mean, she even tried to avoid us getting her... All the others were lined up eagerly on the front porch, waiting for their new Mommies and Daddies, while our daughter was still inside, refusing to get up, get dressed, or eat breakfast. She has told us since that she didn't want us to come. Then back at the guesthouse... The "Hell Week" started. But who could blame her, right? Adoption can be scary for an older child! So we were very patient. We loved, loved, loved. We gave it to Jesus. We kept reading those Purvis books and doing our best at attachment parenting. But as the weeks became months, then months became a year, and the behaviors only got WORSE and scarier. It was around that time that something "turned off" in my heart. I was HURT so DEEPLY by this child, I felt completely defeated and depleted, and I felt ALONE. The deeper I loved her, the deeper I felt stabbed by pain. She stole peace, and I desperately tried to keep it intact for my bio baby, Justice.

But one day I had to admit to myself that it had been a long time since I FELT like I loved her. And replacing that was a more fiery RAGE than I have ever felt. She was throwing up every meal, multiple times, on purpose at that point. It was gross, tiring, and expensive. She always looked smug. Our cars, kitchen chairs, floor, everything... And all day she said she hated me and wanted a new mom - ANY new mom besides ME. And she said it not in anger, but cool as a cucumber, with a look of numb satisfaction. These were just 2 of the constant battles we were entrenched in. Everything I asked became something to defy. Trying to hold her, hug her, or physically bond set off a tantrum. I was at a complete loss. And then suddenly I could no longer feel that love, empathy, and forgiveness. I felt anger that surpassed "mad", it was rage. I blamed HER. For her actions and these new bad feelings I was now haunted by. I finally voiced to Dan that I had felt hatred creep in. I remember vividly that night when Dan came home from work, and I was just spent after another long day. I sat on the side of our bed, head in hands, and told him "Right now, I feel like I hate her." And then I bawled, feeling completely horrible, but yet so relieved to have finally SAID it out loud to someone else. We knew we needed Trauma Counseling for Agape, but now we knew we needed it for ourselves too. DAN'S journey is different than mine, so I won't speak for him, but I was home with her 24/7, and I was BURNT.

Let's pause to recognize that these feelings were something that I was completely blindsided by, and never had experienced before. Sure, I always had a quick temper as a kid, and I am definitely not a fountain of patience, but I am generally a super joyful, high energy, optimistic person. Not to mention, I never met a kid I didn't like! I LOVE kids: the rambunctious ones, the stubborn ones, the rowdy ones, the crazy ones, the grumpy ones, and of course the happy, compliant ones. They were all favorites to me! I was always good at understanding where they were coming from, giving grace, and continuing to love. I NEVER thought I could feel hatred toward a CHILD. I was so defeated by shame for this. And I had to fight hard for joy. Joy has always been a part of me. A can-do attitude, full of optimism and excitement. To feel such negative things was startling and very frightening to me. I had no idea what to do with it all.

-----STRUGGLING RAD MOMS, HEAR ME! If you have felt like this, you are NOT alone or in a minority. I have learned this is not unusual. When I first told the counselor, they didn't even flinch, just nodded knowingly and said they hear that from parents on the journey. It shocked me! And lifted a weight of shame. So while it is not ABNORMAL, it IS DEFINITELY a sign that it's time for counseling. You need it. You need to get your heart, life, and joy back. Just do it.

I want to emphatically impress upon you all how much hated and rage and bitterness and shame and blame eat you alive inside. They steal all that's good. They cause you to second guess who you are in God and feel like you are losing yourself. I could not stand the fact that I felt this way, so I largely "turned off" my feelings toward A. This guarded me against hate, but never made room for love or delight. When the rare, sweet, good moments did happen - and although they were rare, they did come - Dan and I both recognized that we were at a loss to even enjoy them. We were so on guard against our daughter. Against being hurt. So we missed the good stuff. We saw it, but we couldn't embrace it, or feel it. It was an effective painkiller, but a completely defeating way to live. Still, it was all we knew how to do. We just had no idea how to FIX this, and I had no idea what was at the root of the brokenness...

Spiritually, I was (am) in a war - for my heart, for A's heart, and for our family's future. And I WAS FIGHTING with all I knew how: prayer, God's Word, exercise, running, music. But nothing cut it permanently. I was holding onto joy for Justice and largely THROUGH Justice. His smile, laugh, hugs, and wiggles healed my heart. He loved me. He loved A. His delight was unconditional. He brought a ray of unbreakable sunshine into our home, and God spoke through him to me often. Justice has no clue how much he saved our family during that time. He never will. It was all GOD working through a baby. But I KNEW it's not good parenting/personal practice to let your identity or joy be found in one of your children. It was another painkiller ... Maybe even a legit medicine. But not the cure. So professional help for EVERYONE began.

 Counseling helped. I voiced my feelings - and lack of them - and I felt validated. Prayer and music and devotions revived me at night, but then by the end of the breakfast battle the next morning I would be empty again. Exercise has always been my outlet, and it kept my head above water, but the stressful issues were always on my mind. Socially, I felt (and still feel) very isolated. We have never lived so disconnected from the social/church scene. Taking A out around others always causes a negative spiral and backlash against us later, so we have had to take huge steps back and be much more selective in how much and with whom and how we socialize. So, while some things got better, we were still so far from healed.

Around this time, some of A's behaviors started to actually make Justice unsafe, and I knew I needed more support. Through the provision of GOD I found a few other moms on Facebook, and we formed a support/prayer friendship. They had RAD kid(s). They GOT IT. I could talk safely. Around this time, Agape got more/different help, and the throwing up started to recede somewhat. She started meds to help her stay calm, and our life became more manageable. The behaviors were still maddening (and still are) but I was not walking alone. But STILL that rage and lack of feeling plagued me on the weak days, showing up whenever I was especially drained.

Since then I have talked with so many other parents who are HERE. We never imagined our kids would be so hateful to us. We underestimated the effects of trauma and brokenness. We mourn the loss of peace, and the emergence of these un-motherly feelings in ourselves. We ache with ...guilt... (Which is the topic for another post) And it has only been in the last few months that I myself have felt a renewed FREEDOM and returning peace and joy that is more constant. I feel "recovered" as the alcoholics say. THE RAGE AND HATRED are no longer in control and come and go as they please. I say this with caution, because even though they are gone most of the time, the propensity to feel them is still down there, and I need to be proactive against them. When I am very tired and stressed by other things, my tolerance is down, and I know I need to recharge before engaging Agape. Being more self aware and proactive helps incredibly. I am more easily refreshed and it lasts longer. NOPE, Agape is not "better" yet. Some behaviors are better. Some behaviors, quite frankly, are worse. BUT I am getting more able to love beyond "feelings."

In the midst of this hard period, our family transitioned to talking about "love" in very determined, intentional, unemotional terms. It helped us. Whenever Agape would tell us again how she didn't love us, here is the usual conversation that followed: I know you don't FEEL like you love me. I don't really FEEL like I love you right now. Right now you are trying to be hard to love. But I DO love you, because love does not always feel happy and easy. Love is a CHOICE to put someone else first no matter what you FEEL about them. Love means doing what is right for the other person above your own wants. So today, and everyday, I choose to love you. No matter how many times you tell me that you hate me, I will feed you, clothe you, hug you, and keep you safe. Whether or not I FEEL happy or lovey. I CHOOSE to love you.

This is not perfect love, complete love, or ideal love, but it is - coincidentally - unconditional love. Which is actually what her name means. Which, I wholeheartedly believe, is not at all by chance, but completely be the design of the one who knew before he even set her in our lives that I'd need to be reminded of and challenged by that particular kind of love on a daily basis.

[Taking a step forward into the present, I current prayer/goal is to get to a place of true, unconditional DELIGHT in her (a feeling, not choice or belief) that is unhindered by the "behaviors" of the moment. To constantly see the preciousness beyond the bodily fluids and defiance. This goal is a HUGE leap from where I was before! And on days when I feel that old bitterness creeping in - like just happened a week or so ago - I call/message a few select friends and prayer warriors, and I take time to get away and search out what is REALLY going on and driving my behavior. Proactive! Healing! It can be done!]

So here we are at the end of part 1 of the "The Ugly" ... The side of RAD and adoption parenting that remains largely shrouded in darkness, secret, and shame. My HOPE is that if an adoptive mom out there is reading this and going - THIS IS ME - that you can feel encouraged! You are not alone, defeated, or a horrible person! Find friends who GET IT. Seek a GOOD adoption therapist. Don't hide. Shame loves darkness, and it will keep you trapped there. STEP INTO THE LIGHT. I am praying for you as I pray for myself and my own family. 💙

This is only the beginning of the story, there is more hurt and more healing - more ugly and new beauty - to be told… Stay tuned.

And through this all... I hope you see Jesus. Because HE IS REDEEMING all this, and he is taking all these broken pieces and making something new and beautiful. HIS LOVE will have the final word.

He Builds Us Back

Once again it has been a pathetically long time since our last blog post (almost a full three months), but this time it has partially been intentional.  It's been quite a rough summer for the young Shultz family and it has kept us very busy and difficult to keep up with the many things we need to do on a daily basis.

But another reason why we've been pretty quiet on the blog front is that we want to use this as a medium to educate people about REAL adoption issues, and hopefully inspire some to contribute to this growing problem of the orphan crisis.  What we don't want this blog to be about is an emotional, venting, and dramatic rant about just OUR life.  Hence our silence.  We've spared many posts talking about how difficult life has been, and even, rarely, rejoicing over a good day.  This does not minimize the difficulty that of what we have been going through, or many of our adoptions friends for that matter.

I am writing this post for a few reasons.  Our Facebook friends have noticed that we have had some back-to-back vacations in August which we have overall enjoyed, but don't be too jealous of us.  Large parts of our vacations have not been very relaxing.

Attachment issues have been raging strong.  For anyone who knows what raising a child with Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) is like you know how tired and worn down we are right now.  Currently I am sitting at our camp site while Justice is napping, Agape is in time out, and Jen is taking her needed R&R at the beach.  For many days now we've felt very confused and frustrated by all this, and have had to re-visit the question of where God is in this adoption.

Was this a mistake?  Are we total failures, or are we doing this the right way?

These questions FEEL hard to answer, but the answer is actually pretty simple.  Our daughter, before living with us, has lived a troubled life filled with things from the depths of Hell itself.  You cannot walk away from this without being deeply afflicted.  We are battling the demons that haunt her everyday.

And though dealing with this along side her is messy we hold on to this truth:

"For God is not a God of disorder but of peace"

The thief is attempting to destroy the walls of our family and take the joy that Christ has given us.  The walls we build ourselves crumble all to easily, but the God of peace is rebuilding us with stones that hold against anything that hits it.

Been really comforted and inspired by a song from the Newsboys.  Take a listen to the link below, and I hope that it comforts and inspires any of you that is going through a rough time right now.

Peace to you all.

Friday Night Thankfulness

Tonight I have been sitting at the computer with a lot on my mind and heart. Dan is working midnights this week, and the kids were in bed pretty early. (Agape earned herself a 6:30 bedtime today... fun, fun.) This has given me some RARE time to really reflect while perusing facebook. Not much was going on tonight... I suppose most people fall into either one of two catagories: 1. out having a life and therefore too busy with fun and excitement to post or pin or comment or 2. at home doing pretty much nothing, so don’t have anything really interesting to post about... but wishing someone else did so you could live vicariously through them! LOL Tonight I fall into catagory 2. I have often been in catagory 1, so I am not really complaining, just making an observation.

But my quiet time tonight has been good for my soul. I rarely get this. So I actually decided to forgo the chores and check up on some old adoption blogs and profiles of families who I know are still fighting the good fight to bring their children home, or, sadly, have lost the battle and will not be bringing any little African beauties into their homes. Regardless of the details and reasons for these outcomes and long waits, it is heartbreaking. EVERY. SINGLE. CASE. These are beautiful people filled with the LOVE OF GOD for the fatherless, experiencing real life-altering heartbreak. These are precious children who are not yet home with a family who loves them and wants to give them a future.

As my eyes have brimmed with tears for those families and my soul has called on the Lord of Mercy on their behalf, I have also been brimming with thankfulness.

As hard as the past few weeks have been, as much as Agape has been sucking the metaphorical-emotional life out of us lately, as much as we have very real concerns for our daughter and have many things weighing on our hearts in respect to her, WE HAVE HER. She is HERE, and she is OURS. Oh, how miraculous that is! I don;t want to lose sight of the blessing even on the hard days. ESPECIALLY on the hard days! She may be driving me nuts or even bringing me to tears, but the reality is that we have the unique, ridiculously amazing, and life-changing opportunity to be her parents, and we would not have it any other way!

Tonight I was talking to my mom on the phone about the events of this past week and some of the “fun” that led up to the early bedtime tonight, and she made the comment, “I’m sorry Jen, I know you probably never expected it to be like this...” 

Well, that caught me off guard, and just did not sound right to me... and I realized that it really wasn’t true. Sure, we did not know exactly what our daughter was going to be like. Adoption is something that you never fully understand until you are smack dab in the middle DOING it. But the TRUTH is that - thanks to gazillions of books, blogs, support groups, and madatory education requirements for our agency and homestudy - we were prepared for almost every worst case scenario possible. Agape could have truned out to be an axe murdering psychopath, and we were ready to get her the help she would have needed while continuing to love her through it. No lie! Last year at this time I remember wondering things like, “Will I be able to leave her alone when I am in the shower? Might she be a danger to herself or Justice if left alone? Will we have to lock up the knives? Can we trust her not to steal and stash all of our money when we are not guarding our wallets or savings jars? Could she be capable of truly, intentionally hurting or being cruel to one of our family’s pets? Would she ever be cruel to Justice intentionally or hate him? Might I be cleaning poop smeared all over the walls at this time next year?” All of these and more... And each one of these concerns was birthed from another family’s REAL adoption story where their child had some serious issues to work through.

So, in respect to all that COULD be going on, I would say that things are actually BETTER than I “expected” in a way, because half of me was prepared for the worst case scenario!

Instead of a danger, our daughter is a caring, sensitive sister who LOVES Justice, is kind of scared of the cats (Honestly! She thinks Emily is going to eat her in her sleep! LOL), has not demonstrated any problem with stealing (*yet*), and seems to appreciate poop only for its comedic value (oh, how Justice’s poop faces make her LAUGH hysterically)! Those are all qualities that we are thankful to have found in her. And so our worst case scanarios have not proven true.

Instead we have attachment regression, incontinence issues, disobedience, control seeking, and a desprate need for attention from others, etc. All these are intertwined and related in her psyche in ways that we do not even fully understand yet. But from what we have researched, all pretty standard fare in the “older child” “child from hard places” world. Some issues are more intense than others, and some DAYS are worse than others... and some things grate on and hurt Dan and I more deeply than others. But we have no fears for anyone’s safety, and we do know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loves us... although it is based on whatever limeted concept she has of love right now, she loves us. And we love her. 

Our concept of love, we have found, has quite a bit more stretching and deepening to do too. So God is working on all of us.

All that being said, my heart is HEAVY for those waiting for/missing their children. We pray and ache for you and for the kids! And my heart is also thankful to God that even on my most emotionally exhausted day I actually have the opportunity to be exhausted... because it means that my daughter is HOME. I DO NOT EVER WANT TO TAKE THAT FOR GRANTED. And right now I have the chance to be the biggest influence in her life for a few short years, and so by golly, I am going to do my best by her!

And on that note, its time for me to go upstairs now and wake her up for the 2nd time since she went to bed to have her get up and go to the bathroom. Then again at 3am. It’s not fun, but she’s worth it. And MAYBE... maybe tomorrow the sheets will be dry. And maybe tomorrow we won’t have to mandate an early bedtime. And maybe tomorrow will be a good day where my daughter allows herself to trust our love and follow our lead and let her guard down.

But if not, we’ll try again the next day. And thank GOD for the chance to do so!

The most personally painful blog I have ever written...

Mother Teresa once said, “I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” Well, that is what we are living out in our family right now... only these days we are existing in the first part and often waiting on the second to be true.

Warning, this is going to be a “bare-all” kind of blog post. The long and short of it is that we are going through a very testing time with Agape. I am going to be pretty up front about a few instances that are not only hard to think about, but even harder to write about to a public audience because they are just so painful to me. This is life with an older child who has come from a HARD PLACE and is just learning what family means. And what LOVE means. Because sometimes love is not soft and fluffy and gives you everything you want. 

I am writing this post HALF for my own need to just “get it out there” and HALF for the other adoptive parents who need to know that they are not alone. So, at the risk of people making judgements or having opinions on “what we should do next time...” (please be gentle with us) here goes:

It has been a little more than 6 months since Agape came home. Only six?! Six whole months! So short, but yet so long. We have morphed and changed and smoothed into a family with a rhythm and a bond. In many ways, and on most days, Agape blends in pretty seamlessly. She speaks fairly good English (we are working on things like verb tense, grammaticaly complete sentences, and word order), she can understand most everything that we ask or say (and if not she can tell us speciafically what needs further explanation), and she understands how our family and schedule works. She can read - YES, READ! - and is starting to sound out words and write them herself. She has become a super awesome swimmer, and swims laps because she says that she wants to be on swim team someday. She snorkeled off a boat on a reef in the middle of the ocean when we were in the Keys! So proud of her in that moment, because just 5 months earlier she had never swam once in her life! Best of all, she is an amazing big sister, and she often shows a good deal of responsibility in caring for Justice and helping us with household tasks when we ask. When she is “on” she is fun, and witty, and silly, and joyful to be around, and has the biggest smile and laugh! 

And all of this stuff is pretty awesome and fun, and makes our family feel whole. I like to think on these things because they remind me just how far we have come, and that progress has definitely been made. 

And then there are those days... those days when something comes over Agape and she almost become a different child in a matter of SECONDS. When she reacts out of a heart of fear and insecurity and DESPRATELY claws for control over us and the situation OR attention from anyone and everyone NOT us. We call those the “orphan moments” when she suddenly becomes an orphan again in her heart. When she again believes - or in a sad way thinks she wants - to be on her own again, just trying to survive off of anyone she can, without any of the vulnerability that true love and family asks of her. 

I have become so sensitive and in tune with Agape’s tones and mannerisms that I can sense these things coming now. What may look like “a happy day and all is well” on the outside of Agape’s smile, may be trouble brewing in her soul. OH SO SUBTLE shifts in the way that she looks at us or pretends to not hear us when others are around, when she seeks some approval or smiles from others, or slips her hand from ours... or even just so much as loosens her grip on our hand or slightly wanders toward others when we are walking in a crowd. I realised the other day that I could even predict how the day was going to go by her laugh first thing in the morning. She has this nervous “put on” laugh that means that she is feeling distant and insecure about SOMETHING. Not that she will - or can - tell us what it is, which is hard. I can feel the wall start to rise and her emotional distance start to grow. Then comes the disobedience. Small at first, with little, insignificant things; but it soon grows too large to go by uncorrected. And then - when she does not want to be told “no” or corrected or simply does not want to obey a request we have made - then comes the cosmic sized verbal-screaming-meltdown-performance. She saves these for when she has an audience. At least the BIGGEST ones. And it is frequently accompanied by her making herself throw up on me. Yes, I did just say that she could throw up at will. Because she CAN. And she has no qualms about doing it in public while telling others around that I made her do it. And her cry has changed from the generic “African wail” (Ey-yi-yi-yi-yi-yiiiiiii!) to very mean and hurtful words, or lies to get others to pay attention. Things like “stop hurting me” when we are not doing a darn thing, or “somebody, anybody, helpa me! I need someone to helpa me!” or “No mommy, no!” or “I no like you!” or even “I will bite you!” Of course, when she is really mad, she tells us that she wants to just go back to Africa so that she does not have to listen to anyone anymore. A part of her heart wants to go back to being “parentless.” (OH SO MANY spiritual applications here and ways that I see my own heart in this. Don’t we all sometimes long for the “slavery of Egypt” over the challenge of relying on a loving Father? Please don’t think that I am missing the irony of my own orphan heart mirrored by these actions!) 

Now, anyone who knows Agape and sees her sweet smile or hears her hearty laugh on a regular basis might find these things hard to believe, and we understand that. It is even hard to believe for us, that she can flip so fast and become a child that we barely know! It is almost like she becomes like a desprate, cornered animal, unaware of the ramifications of her actions. She is just in survival mode, doing what she has done for the past however many years of her life! And it is all about getting CONTROL. Because something in her soul or in her environment is feeling very out of control and scared at the moment.

But on the other hand, she knows very well what she is doing and saying, and her words are carefully calculated to try to get the  optimum “results” she is after. She is one smart cookie, unfortunately, when it comes to playing people and situations. We were warned about this in Congo by two different sets of caretakers. They told us that she had quite the mouth on her, and she is very sassy and quick  witted. We witnessed her challenging adults there with smart-aleck comments, and she knew how to scream and what to scream to gain the attention of her fellow Congolese.... and now that she speaks English very well, we are getting to experience that personally here in America. Not bad language, but just very mean things actually aimed at hurting us emotionally and getting others to stare. Imagine teenager words coming out of a seven year old body in the midst of a toddler-like tantrum. Attention and control.

And when this happens, we just have to keep on keeping on. Just keep going about what we are doing, not giving any extra attention, not giving in to whatever she wants that she is not getting. Just holding tight to the groundrules. Trying to get her away from her audience. Keeping an even tone. Telling her again that we love her, and that we only ask her to do, or not do, things for her own GOOD. Just keep on holding that hand that she is desprately trying to pull away from ours. 

And then - IF IF IF no one has fed her tantrum with attention - all of sudden she will just stop, turn her crying off like a light switch, and try to act like nothing was ever wrong. In 5 minutes she will try to joke and laugh with us, and play and ask for things. And then, when she sees that she is still in trouble for her actions, she will become ULTRA-SUPER-DUPER helpful. Trying to make up for the behavior by hugging us with the same nervous laugh that preceeded the outburst. 

And there we are. Battleworn. Scarred. Bewildered. Sometimes covered in puke. And very often recieving stares that could freeze souls from others who think that we must be horrible, abusive parents. And sometimes they even tell us that to our faces. 

Like last Saturday, and like today. 

Last Saturday was our Mother’s Day outting at Ten Thousand Villages. My mom, step-father, grandmother, sister and brother-in-law, and Dan’s family were there. We were all eating lunch in the cafe after an African Drumming session, and suddenly, Agape started “slipping away.” I had noticed that she was getting pretty wound up, and tried to bring her back down and have her sit with us and eat her lunch. She basically began to ignore Dan and I, and began to actually mock Dan and laugh at it. I took her to the bathroom to talk, and here is where it alllllll went south. (in retrospect, I SHOULD have gone to the car where there was no audience. I am learning.) She began to scream even before we got into the bathroom. Inside I was thrown up on 3 times during a temper tantrum so loud and verbally explosive that it had customers complaining, and the manager wanting us to leave. Thank GOD for three parts of our family being there to have our backs in explaining what was going on so that no one reported us to child services! 

Then we had a great Mother’s Day, and a smooth next week, and fast forward to the next weekend:

Yesterday at the 5K - despite the fact that Agape walks/jogs 2-5 miles with me everyday and was SUPER excited about the race telling everyone she met how she was going to run with Dad - She began to pull away from Dan at about 1/4 mile into the run, and then screamed when he held her hand to keep her near him, waling and crying, throwing herself on the ground and saying he was hurting her, and that she did not like him. This was so bad, in fact, that security stopped Dan to ask what was going on. Thank God they believed him. But then he was told by three separate people that what he did was terribly inappropriate, OBVIOUSLY hurting her like that. The stares that he got were bone chilling. Others tried to tell him to just let her walk with them. (Whaaaaaat?!?!?! They were perfect STRANGERS! NO WAY he was just going to give her to them!) He was both angry and crushed at the same time. His heart was hurt so deeply. 

But then when we were all back together at the finish and Dan walked off to just get some space, she got so upset asking where he was going. She was terrified thinking he was leaving. She was crying saying “Sorry, sorry, daddy don’t go. Where my daddy going?” Obviously, she was scared that she had finally driven him away. She was quite relieved when he returned.

And we KNOW how all this must look to others! We understand why people react as they do, really. But at the same time, we wish that everyone would give us a chance to explain. And that they would not step in and FEED the behavior.

[Disclaimer: PLEASE NOTE, we are taking this SERIOUSLY, because of the possible legal ramifications that Agape could unknowingly bring down on the family by these outbursts. We are not sharing these things lightly. She simply does not know what saying things like this in America could bring about. Pray for us to have wisdom to help her understand how serious it is.]

Now I know what some of you are thinking... we should “cocoon” a little more and stay out of public for a bit. We are doing too much too soon. etc, etc, etc.... Well, we have been a little caught off guard by these bahaviors coming back. They were gone for a while now, and she has been doing GREAT with being out and about, and loves new places and experiences, MOST of the time... this behavior has returned from the past out of NOWHERE. We had a different child a few weeks ago. Right after our family vacation - which was AWESOME!!!! [read: LOTS of high-quality, uninterrupted, FAMILY time with no outside influences] - we saw a confident, loving, trusting girl whose laugh was real and deep. 

Then, with each day spent at school, we have watched her slowly slip away again. SCHOOL. She simply cannot handle going back and forth between the two worlds of school and family. School is very much like her old life as an orphan - lots of children, a few “caretakers”, and no relationship that is too “deep” that it may ask something of her.  It is a comfort zone. (NOTE: we are not saying this is the school’s fault. It just is what it is.) Then she comes home and exists in her new reality in a family, with family rules, a Mom and Dad who do not accept sass-mouthing or tantrums (these were very effective in Congo, and at the very least, you could get adults to just leave you alone if you were too difficult). We have high expectations for her because we actually BELIEVE in her and what she is capable of. We encourage EFFORT and accountability. And we do not just ignore her when she is being difficult. She simply cannot fly under the radar like she could at the orphanage when there were lots of kids and only a few adults, most of whom could have cared less if the kids even existed.

All of this equals out to some VERY INTENTIONAL parenting. We do not waste a moment with her, always ready to make the most of an opportunity to show her love, and help her grow and learn to be the BEST that she can be. Right now our priority is regrouping, recircling the wagons, and trying to help her regain some balance. It will be hard this month because she still has 3 weeks of school left and Dan begins his new position with 12 hr day/midnight rotations. (yet another level of instability and change to throw her off) We need to make some changes, and we have yet to figure out exactly what is going to help or “work.” We are looking into counseling, and we will go from there....

But can I just be blunt and say that my heart is TIRED. So tired. By the end of a tough day I often feel absolutely drained of all emotional strength. My heart feels like it is running on empty many times. Dan and I concede that we need the GOSPEL for hope and eachother for support, and without the two, we do not know what we would do some days.

And that, my friends, is why we hardly blog. Because we are either so busy making to most of the good, sweet, awesome moments OR so tired from the long, hard, giving love all we’ve got days, that we just need to sink into BED, and pray for God’s grace to refill us in time for the morning light.

But through it all we’ve seen many victories. Agape has conquered many hills already and is slowly, surely learning to “do hard things,” despite how much she would like to avoid it. 

And we are learning the real meaning of her name... 

Agape: Love that gives even if it does not recieve. Selfless, giving love that puts others first. Love that perseveres and forgives, never giving up. Bottom line, the love of Jesus... which He embodied by dying on the cross FOR those who were, even at that moment, mocking him and calling for his death, plus every sinner who ever was, is, or will be. 

This is the love that we need to have in the difficult moments, when she tells us that she does not want us. When she is pushing us away. When she is spewing hateful words while we are trying to give her something GOOD. When she is not thankful.

Agape love is the answer. 

And one day, after the last tear falls, love will be all that’s left....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8GiPb6gwuPQ 

Redemption is Painful

Well it has been forever since we've last officially blogged, but we can assure you that both Jen and I have been writing many blog posts in our heads.  Pretty fantastic ones too, but they have not yet made it to the world wide web yet.  Not that I have much time to bring you something truly fantastic right now, but the last two weekends have really been emotional.

This is putting it very simply.

Jen is drafting up a post that explains everything in enough detail, but something that God has been showing me personally lately is how painful a process that redemption is.  Not that I'm surprised by this thought, but I am learning just how true it is.  It is painful for both Agape and us equally, just in different ways.  Currently, Jen and I are a little bit done with this whole redemption thing and are wishing things could be "better".

We've been doing a lot of hard work with our family, and seeing little results.  We press on simply knowing that this has to happen and believing that someday good will come from it.  Lately I've turned to Mother Teresa's timeless wisdom to help encourage me to keep going.  Here are some really good ones from her.

"Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat."

"Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary.  What we need is to love without getting tired."

"It is not the magnitude of our actions but the amount of love that is put into them that matters."

"The success of love is in the loving - it is not in the result of loving.  Of course it is natural in love to want the best for the other person, but whether it turns out that way or not does not determine the value of what we have done."

Just some great thoughts for you to chew on.  Stay tuned for Jen's post.

Some amazing things I have seen.

I was thinking today how I have seen many amazing things in this world.  I use the word "amazing" to mean both the good and the bad.  Life has taught me that the most horrendous thing I can imagine still has an element of amazement to it, but with negative effects.

I have stood at the peaks of mountains and stared at the vast expanse of the Rockies.  I have stood above the highest waterfall in America and felt the power of the water plummeting down.  I have trekked through the barrenness of an Arizona desert.  I have snorkeled one of the largest barrier reefs in the world.  I have seen the miracle of birth.  I have seen the faces of children scared by war be restored and filled with life.

I have also seen the desolation of a nation living without hope on their second hand land.  I have seen the brokenness of people fending for themselves through dishonest living.  I have witnessed the solemnness of someone's last breath.  I have seen the failed attempt of a man fighting for something worth more than earthly treasures.  I have seen the faces of children with no life in their eyes.

Quite a lot to have seen for a man of 27 years, but I give you my word it is all true.  However, there is something happening in my home right now that is more amazing than all of this that I can not see.  It is the work God is doing in my little girl's heart as she learns the painful process of being a daughter in a family committed to honesty and integrity.  Structure and security is a terrifying thing to older children who are adopted.  It requires them to lay down all the barriers they have raised to guard their hearts from pain.  Often she is unwilling to take down the barriers herself, so the only option is to sometimes break through them.  What makes the pain and hard work all worth it is the finished product, which is what we actually get to see.  Little by little I see the result of Agape giving up her orphan behaviors and becoming the person God wants her to be.  These orphan behaviors do not go gently though.  As I said this whole thing is a painful process, but overall, I'm enjoying the results.

This is important for me to think about today.  Agape did not have the best of days today.  School was cancelled due to what was supposed to be snow.  Jen and I have been fighting sinus infections for almost a week now, and Jen ended up adding an ear infection to the mix this morning.  On top of that, I just finished my 6th day straight of working today with still 2 more in front of me.  Needless to say, we did not have much patience for her attitude.  So I thank God for giving me the grace to stand when my own strength fails me.  I will put a lot of money on our fellow adoptive families knowing exactly what I'm talking about.  Let us all take time to calm down and remember why we first wanted to adopt, and the power of the God who fuels us through every step of this journey we are on.

Blessings to you all.

We are Together Called

This weekend we re-"treated" ourselves to our first adoption retreat.  Not just our first, but most people's first actually.

Why?

Because, until this past weekend, there were no retreats like this on the east coast.  So we can now cross off our bucket list that we attended the first annual "Together Called" sponsored by The Sparrow Fund.  Mark and Kelly, founders of The Sparrow Fund, might be our new favorite people ever.  We hope they make like Spock and "Live long and prosper."

You can help make that happen by doing one simple thing.  Giving them lots of money.  Actually, give them all your money so that they can continue to give grants to adopting families and host more fantastic events like "Together Called".  I guess if I'm petitioning you to ruin your financial future for this I should probably share why this retreat was so good.

Gladly.

The retreat was held at a quaint, cozy, and lost-in-time kinda place in Leola.  Our rooms were great, and the abundance of food was great too.  Even greater was the people.  Over 60 couples gathered together spanning as far as New Hampshire all the way to Utah.  All because of adoption.  I love that.

We all had our unique stories, but we had something really big in common together.  We've met the orphan crisis face-to-face, and collectively have said, "You are not greater than the Love we bring."  Between all the families present we had over 180 children (186 I think?), and 108 of them were former orphans from all over the world.

During the retreat we were treated to good food, prizes, fellowship, amazing speakers, and most importantly - time together.

That's a rarity in our house these days with two needy children pining for us constantly.  But we were able to actually sit down and talk and enjoy each other's company uninterrupted.  We realized that we still like each other a whole lot (which is a very good thing), and that we need this feeling to not be drowned in the work of parenthood.  With that we are committed to making changes that will keep our marriage strong in the midst of daily life.  We need it, and our children need it.

With this statement we know that Satan will try to shut the notion down quickly, but we are ready for the challenge.

On a side note.  We've been pretty committed to being an open book about our adoption journey.  We haven't really strived to be the best writers on the internet (we met a woman who might be that person this weekend though), we don't want to be some big blog that everyone feels like they have to read.  We just want to be honest about what we go through without looking like picture perfect people.  We want people to know that adoption is hard work and scary.  But it is worth it, and it is necessary.

So I share our difficulty maintaining our marriage for a few reasons.  Firstly, so you can pray for us, we need still need it even though we are able to hold our two children in our arms.  Secondly, it's normal to go through these difficulties and not bad either as long as you address them properly.

Back to the retreat.  This morning we ended the weekend with a small and quaint Bible study with about a dozen other couples.  The rest had to leave earlier.  The Bible study was very simple and actually summarizes what I take away from this weekend pretty well.  Here are some of the verses we talked about, and my thoughts on them.

Phil 1:6 - being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

2: 1-2 - Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.

2:17 - But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.

3:12-14 - Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at me goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.  But one thing I do:  Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

We have never been with so many other people who share our greatest passion before.  It filled our cup hearing how our struggles with over coming the orphan inside our daughter are shared with so many other people.  It didn't make the problem itself better at all, but helps us knowing that we are not the only ones dealing with this same thing.  More importantly, God did not finish his good work in our daughter be bringing her home to us.  He isn't finished with her yet, and we can't wait to see what he does with her in the years to come.

Thanks for reading, and Blessings to you all.

P.S.  Please do consider making a donation to the Sparrow Fund.  They are doing great work, and are deserving of any amount you are able to give.  http://www.sparrow-fund.org/