I HEART ADOPTIVE MOMS

This morning I was faced with a decision.  I had Mother's Day Out and no plans set in stone.  I had the usual gammet of options - work out, laundry, write a blog post, organize pictures, shop for spring clothes, etc.  And there was a breakfast for adoptive/foster moms at my church that had fluttered on the edge of my consciousness.

To be honest, I wanted to hole up and do my stuff by myself.  Yesterday was long with people - great - but lots of interaction from start to finish.  However, around 7 a.m., I decided that I should go to the breakfast.  I love the people that organized it, and I knew it would be good for me, even if I didn't necessarily feel like doing it.  A lot of life is like that - making the effort to show up usually pays off.

It paid off big time this morning.  Adoption and foster care are not easy roads.  They are fraught with grief and heart ache and complicated situations.  It's always complicated.  And not everybody gets that.  People that have not been down these roads or at least walked them closely with friends or family, often have no idea what all it entails.  Those are the same people that make inappropriate comments to you in public and/or think you are crazy.

To be absolutely honest, walking into the room was a little nerve-wracking, because I didn't know most people there.  So I went to the bathroom right away, because it felt like the right thing to do.  Then I found a friend and could breathe a little easier.  And I wondered if anyone would notice that instead of washing my hair this morning, I dumped way too much baby powder into it - so much so that it looked a little grayish in places, and I added some water to the top while in the bathroom to lesson the gray tinge.  I'm not sure if that was better or worse than the grease.

Once I was able see past myself and my powdered gray hair, I was able to appreciate the beautiful women who showed up.  We sat around, eating biscuits and eggs and bacon, talking about birth families and therapy and attachment, because those things make up our stories.  There are so many things about my children's story that I will never share online.  But, in a safe place, there is more freedom and space to tell some of the realities that come with children who are not biologically yours.

The reality is that sometimes this stuff makes you feel crazy.  Being in a room of women who "get it" was really wonderful.  No one there questions your love for your adopted children - they know that you fought tooth and nail to get them into your home and that you will continue to fight uphill battles on their behalf.  Everyone knows that even when its so incredibly hard, you would not change it, because these children are precious and made it God's image and worth the heartache.  And though our stories are all different, we can see that we are all the same.

We are broken people being used by God to love other broken people.  What a gift.

This morning I was also reminded of how God is near to the brokenhearted and loves the orphan.  I am so very thankful that he graciously revealed this to us.  I shudder to think what our lives would have looked like if we had missed it.  But, we have William and Violet, and they have us, and none of us will ever be the same.  I'm so very thankful.

So - let me declare this from the hilltops - I ❤️ adoptive moms.  I love having cheerleaders in this journey who will laugh and cry and pray and bring meals and get it.  What a blessing.

(Special thanks to Thrive - Fellowship Bible Church's Orphan-Care Ministry!)