Let there be light
Leading up to our adoption there was one blog in particular that a friend recommended. Its written by a mom that has two adoptive sons. One son was adopted from birth and the other son adopted out of foster care at 3 1/2 years old. I don't even know her, but I love the way she writes. I love learning how she is navigating an open adoption and friendship with the older sons bio mom. I love her insight into the younger son's struggles as he figures out where he fits after years in foster care. I love the way she balances an open heart to connect with her readers, while at the same time has a guarded heart to protect stories that are not hers to tell. And mostly I love this post.
I longed for a picture like the one she had- our whole family in front of a judge- everything final. I wanted the picture, I wanted that moment, I wanted to hear the judge say those words: "May it be as if it always was." But what I really wanted is what the picture meant, that everything was true. We were finished with the paperwork, and trips back and forth to texas, and calls to lawyers, and visits with social workers, and reporting to caseworkers, and checking dates on fire extinguishers.
I wanted the proof. I wanted the picture. I wanted it to be done. I wanted to be a family.
And it happened. Through tears I said under oath, that YES this adoption was in the very best interest of the boys. And Cory said YES it was his "understanding that this court has continued an exclusive jurisdiction over the boys following prior proceedings in which they became fully eligible for adoption" or whatever the heck that lawyer asked! The point is they are ours. In fact the boys will get new birth certificates with mine and Cory's name listed as parents as if we had always been their parents from the beginning. "May it be as if it always was."
But here's the kicker. It always wasn't.
In fact Judah lived almost five years of life before we were officially his parents, and three of those years he lived with zero awareness of the Jones family and all our English speaking ways. He lived with his mom and sometimes his two sisters and grandma. And he remembers so much more than I give him credit for. I am still amazed at how he directed me to his grandmas house when we were going for a visit. It had been 6 months or more since he had been there last and back then everyone called him Jordan. When we found out we would be adopting and decided it would be best to change his name, Cory and I worked so hard to remove the word Jordan from our vocabulary even though we had been calling him that for year. We both have a mental block still when referring to anyone by that name. Our apologies Jordan Crain, we really do know your name!!! It's just a glitch:)
To be honest though, for Judah, I really think what makes things hard is not what he does remember, but what he doesn't. Like how he doesn't remember our sweet dog Maggie that his brothers love to talk about. Maggie died before he lived with us. Or how he doesn't remember our white Rodeo that we traded in for a big van to transport the foster kids we were making room for. He doesn't remember all the awesome trips with teenagers when Daddy was a youth minister. He doesn't know what to expect when we announce going to Nanna and Poppy's house for Christmas. And how would he know what its like to go camping with grandma and grandpa? And who are all these white kids running around that everyone keeps calling cousins??!?!
This pic is from our first Christmas with Judah at Nana and Poppy's house. He had lived with us for four months. This is exactly what he did while all the other kids played and opened presents. No fever, but he was sleeping 20 hours a day. I took him to three doctors hoping for a diagnosis. Mono? Flu? Nope, just heart broken. His behavior was telling me, "I feel out of place."
On a smaller scale we all know what that feels like, don't we? It feels like getting together with friends who are all talking about the movie they saw Friday night, when you had to work. You don't know the inside jokes, and your polite laugh isn't fooling anyone when they retell the way that guy freaked when so and so tripped and spilled their popcorn all over him. It's not like your friends are trying to make you feel left out even when they continue to reference that night months later. After all it's not their fault you weren't there. But it's not really your fault either. It just is what it is....lonely.
And for my Judah, I think he definitely feels lonely sometimes. Because for him there were YEARS of missed Friday night movies and frankly no abracadabra words from a judge about "may it be as if it always was" can change that. But lucky for Judah, his life is ruled by a Judge that does have magic words. God has magic words. God can say "Let there be light" and it happens. Jesus can say "Peace be still" and the wind stops. And when it says in Psalm, 68:6 "God sets the lonely in families..." I know it's true. And day by day this little boy, my Judah-bug believes it too. What a difference a year makes.
I longed for a picture like the one she had- our whole family in front of a judge- everything final. I wanted the picture, I wanted that moment, I wanted to hear the judge say those words: "May it be as if it always was." But what I really wanted is what the picture meant, that everything was true. We were finished with the paperwork, and trips back and forth to texas, and calls to lawyers, and visits with social workers, and reporting to caseworkers, and checking dates on fire extinguishers.
I wanted the proof. I wanted the picture. I wanted it to be done. I wanted to be a family.
And it happened. Through tears I said under oath, that YES this adoption was in the very best interest of the boys. And Cory said YES it was his "understanding that this court has continued an exclusive jurisdiction over the boys following prior proceedings in which they became fully eligible for adoption" or whatever the heck that lawyer asked! The point is they are ours. In fact the boys will get new birth certificates with mine and Cory's name listed as parents as if we had always been their parents from the beginning. "May it be as if it always was."
But here's the kicker. It always wasn't.
In fact Judah lived almost five years of life before we were officially his parents, and three of those years he lived with zero awareness of the Jones family and all our English speaking ways. He lived with his mom and sometimes his two sisters and grandma. And he remembers so much more than I give him credit for. I am still amazed at how he directed me to his grandmas house when we were going for a visit. It had been 6 months or more since he had been there last and back then everyone called him Jordan. When we found out we would be adopting and decided it would be best to change his name, Cory and I worked so hard to remove the word Jordan from our vocabulary even though we had been calling him that for year. We both have a mental block still when referring to anyone by that name. Our apologies Jordan Crain, we really do know your name!!! It's just a glitch:)
To be honest though, for Judah, I really think what makes things hard is not what he does remember, but what he doesn't. Like how he doesn't remember our sweet dog Maggie that his brothers love to talk about. Maggie died before he lived with us. Or how he doesn't remember our white Rodeo that we traded in for a big van to transport the foster kids we were making room for. He doesn't remember all the awesome trips with teenagers when Daddy was a youth minister. He doesn't know what to expect when we announce going to Nanna and Poppy's house for Christmas. And how would he know what its like to go camping with grandma and grandpa? And who are all these white kids running around that everyone keeps calling cousins??!?!
This pic is from our first Christmas with Judah at Nana and Poppy's house. He had lived with us for four months. This is exactly what he did while all the other kids played and opened presents. No fever, but he was sleeping 20 hours a day. I took him to three doctors hoping for a diagnosis. Mono? Flu? Nope, just heart broken. His behavior was telling me, "I feel out of place."
On a smaller scale we all know what that feels like, don't we? It feels like getting together with friends who are all talking about the movie they saw Friday night, when you had to work. You don't know the inside jokes, and your polite laugh isn't fooling anyone when they retell the way that guy freaked when so and so tripped and spilled their popcorn all over him. It's not like your friends are trying to make you feel left out even when they continue to reference that night months later. After all it's not their fault you weren't there. But it's not really your fault either. It just is what it is....lonely.
And for my Judah, I think he definitely feels lonely sometimes. Because for him there were YEARS of missed Friday night movies and frankly no abracadabra words from a judge about "may it be as if it always was" can change that. But lucky for Judah, his life is ruled by a Judge that does have magic words. God has magic words. God can say "Let there be light" and it happens. Jesus can say "Peace be still" and the wind stops. And when it says in Psalm, 68:6 "God sets the lonely in families..." I know it's true. And day by day this little boy, my Judah-bug believes it too. What a difference a year makes.
posted by Christina at
3:58 PM
2 Comments:
I love your heart and your sweet Judah! And, I promise Jordan takes no offense ;)
Beautiful Christina. We all know loneliness and seek belonging- adopted or not! I love what God is up to and your beautiful words. Thank you :) Prayers for precious Judah
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