Letter to My Pre-Adoptive Self

(written October 3, 2011)

Dear Mandi,

Adoption is for you. You have been called by the LORD GOD to embark on this journey. I know you are excited, nervous, and hopeful. Your children, all of them, are beautiful and precious gifts from God Himself. Adoption is a noble calling - and you are one of the blessed to be called. Revel in your calling. Feel your purpose and have pride for a moment. Now...read the rest of this letter.

Adoption will break your heart. You won't be able to understand the grieving process you will have to walk through for your precious girls' birth moms. You will be torn in two with feelings of loyalty towards yourself and a birth mom who you do not really know. You will struggle with feelings of jealousy because your precious girls did not grow in your own body. Your girls will ask you "why?" God decided to allow their brother this gift, but not them.

You will always love your girls' beautiful brown skin. When they start to ask "why?" they are the only ones around them with this characteristic, you will sometimes struggle for the right answers. You will live among others who say culturally inappropriate words, not even aware. You will be judged by others, especially other black men and women, when you are in the community with your precious family. People will ask your children inappropriate questions, at very young ages, setting up the stage for the enemy to come in and make them question their worth and validity. You will struggle some when teaching them about their culture, because after all, you are a white woman. Your girls will always be "white" blacks, yet this is all part of His divine plan for them. The pressure will be great at times, and you'll grieve.

Even though you think you're invincible - you will learn you are not. You can be broken, and you will be over and over again. Your greatest source of pain will be in the mystery surrounding your precious girls' special needs. You will have beautiful twin girls, who you always knew in your heart He planned for you. They will be girls - flowers, dancing, singing, dresses. You will learn to love pink! You will, however, be invited, only at times, into their world. They began their lives together and find solace, joy, and comfort in each other. You will feel left out at times, yet, at other times you will feel blessed. They are stubborn, strong-willed souls and will physically wear you down. You will have to be on-guard all the time. They are curious, honest (brutally), and very busy. You will have this overwhelming feeling of having to stay in control at all times - after all, you know their birth mom's record. You will be on your knees praying for their strong wills to follow God with reckless abandon. You fear the alternative, especially for them.

Your first daughter will give you a great blessing. God will allow you to hold her, nurse her, and truly be a mom instead of just a caretaker. You will give her your heart soon and fall deeply in love. You will be shaken with fear and anger towards God when she turns 15 months old. You will stubbornly research, embark on a world of therapies, and spend every free moment on her. When she is three, right after you embrace your precious 12-month old twins, she will retreat into a secret world and your whole family life will fall apart. She will rage, hurt herself, behave in erratic and unacceptable manners, cry uncontrollably, and not talk. She will struggle with her motor skills; have to learn sign language. Doctors will not have answers - doctors, after doctors, after doctors. Therapists will all have hopeful solutions, and more hopeful solutions to try when the first ones fail. Insurance will drop her. False diagnoses will be diagnosed and then dismissed. People will give up on her, give her a low I.Q. and recommend support groups.

Your friends and support will question your parenting and decision-making skills. You will be talked about behind your back, and your heart will be broken. A school system will choose to abandon your daughter as well, and you will be called to be the teacher of your kids. You will learn to walk with your face pointed like a flint towards God, not looking to the left or the right without the promise of pain inflicted upon you. You will learn to walk alone, start to feel comfort in the walk, and then learn you truly cannot do it alone. The shame of having to accept help will harm your pride, but teach you powerfully of His provision.

You will have a mental breakdown and realize that a whole decade has passed and you've aged at least 15 years. You will learn how to give up on dreams surrounding your world, while desperately clinging to others. You will be forced to surrender - over and over again. You will, however, truly come to know the One who created you and loves you deeply. You will feel the overwhelming love you've always sought. You will be set free from your long kept secret wound, and learn to live in freedom.

Yours is a precious, ever-changing path. You can do it, but not alone. You will try, but He'll force you back to dependence. You will never have a "normal" family. But...you will always have Your Father's hand upon You - His promise will sustain you. Have courage, remember to surrender to Him daily (moment-by-moment if necessary), and love...love with reckless abandon.

Love,

Mandi

Pail

A new pail,
Straight, tight,
Brushed to a cold
Silver shine,

Soon learns
Other ways:
Once filled with
Oats or ashes,

Grayed by rain,
Its handle
Bent, its
Bottom dented,

Grown peaceful
And plain,
It becomes
A real pail.

All the Small Poems and Fourteen More
Valerie Worth


Someday I will stop trying to pretend I am a new pail, and become comfortable with becoming real.

Thrive

Been fighting things that I can't see in
Like voices coming from the inside of me and
Like doing things I find hard to believe in
Am I myself or am I dreaming?

I've been awake for an hour or so
Checking for a pulse but I just don't know
Am I a man when I feel like a ghost?
The stranger in the mirror is wearing my clothes

No, I'm not alright
I know that I'm not right
A steering wheel don't mean you can drive
A warm body don't mean I'm alive

No, I'm not alright
I know that I'm not right
Feels like I travel but I never arrive
I want to thrive not just survive

I come alive when I hear you singing
But lately I haven't been hearing a thing and
I get the feeling that I'm in between
A machine and a man who only looks like me

I try and hide it and not let it show
But deep down inside me I just don't know
Am I a man when I feel like a hoax?
The stranger in the mirror is wearing my clothes

No, I'm not alright

I'm always close but I'm never enough
I'm always in line but I'm never in love
I get so down but I won't give up
I get slowed down but I won't give up

I want to thrive not just survive
Thrive

Vice Verses, Switchfoot

Been bombarded with "love". It has everything to do with love. Loving when I feel nothing is possible, just sometimes excruciating and not very sincere. (1 Cor. 13)

Broken Princesses

I find myself angry that I am back in this place again. I am suffering from severe over analysis paralysis. I cannot seem to shut off my mind, or even feel any sense of accomplishment today (who am I kidding?! the past 6 months!). I am frantically working to get myself out of this place again. I can't find the well. I'm so thirsty!

The questions keep swirling around, fluttering away and back, but not allowing capture. It might not seem so overwhelming if there were just one, or maybe two or three. But there are so many, and I am Martha. I desperately need to be Mary.

I wonder, if I could go back, if I would walk (or run briskly) right past this path, never looking back? Why did I intentionally choose this path? I used to feel invincible. I know the truth now. I do not have the strength to try to defend a lie. I am broken, truly broken. The enemy is dancing over me right now. I wish he'd blow away, along with all the questions.

This path really is beautiful, isn't it? I really gave up everything for a grand purpose? I'm struggling with the reality that even though I know I am to surrender-daily, moment by moment if called to, I am selfish and jealous of the me I wanted to become. I can imagine myself, the princess that I am, dancing, singing, painting before His throne. I want to be beautiful, accomplished, respected, admired. I am so full of pride! Princesses don't clean up poop off walls, wash sheets incessantly, repeat the same words over and over again, constantly redirect broken little ones. Princesses don't have to keep a strict routine, or pay the consequences. Princesses don't yell!

The enemy is whispering, "you're not a princess". He's such a liar. I am a princess! Jesus gave up His life to give me this title, this gift. He adopted me. I adopted them. He adopted me because He loves me, wants to be with me, cherishes me. He didn't just adopt me to save me. I adopted for the same purpose. I selfishly love them, want them to be with me, cherish them. I didn't just want to save them. I want them to love me.

I am just like them.

Everything they do to me has been done to Him, quite possibly and probably by me. I praise Him for His patience and tender kindness towards me. In a perfect world, they would not be broken, nor would I. (Ps. 34:18)