The Journey

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My friend Corey is an amazingly good writer and therapeutic mom. She also has a God-given servant heart. In the midst of tremendous struggles she is still organizing and implementing the Third Annual Early Trauma and Attachment Meeting. Her posts always make me think because unfortunately she and I are walking/have walked similar paths with our adoptions.

The post I linked just breaks my heart. Unless you’ve been there you can’t possibly understand the deep despair when it seems hopeless. When you’ve worked the system and everything you’ve tried has failed. When you want to put your kid in the car and drop them off in the country somewhere and speed off. (How’s that for honesty and transparency?) Fortunately for Corey and I, we’ve never done that. Wanted to badly, but haven’t. That right there should get us a medal. You trauma mamas are nodding your head right along with me, aren’t you?

This blog has detailed only a few of our struggles with B and her estrangement from our family. It was so bad I still can’t look back at my journals from 2000-2008. I’m afraid if I even crack open a page it will overwhelm me like a tsunami and destroy everything in its path. I thank God that this journey has so destroyed my brain cells that I forget easily. Because I want to forget the anger, strife, unfairness and bitterness. I want to forget what she did to us and how we responded. The Pollyanna in me wants to imagine kinder, gentler times.

Yet I still have hope. It’s the one thing my RADishes try desperately to take away and the one thing I cling to with every fiber of my being. As a Christian, it’s the belief that through this pain God can and will do something amazing. I may never, ever see it, but I will hang on for this journey. I know our family has been forever redesigned through adoption. Yet I know my bio kids have a strength and resilience and perspective that comes from the heartache. They are far from perfect (as I’m seeing as they maneuver adulthood) but they didn’t let our many crises destroy us. There is a fierce loyalty and protectiveness that they show that comes from our family growing together instead of apart.

The hard part is the acceptance that this may be the means that God uses to break us and transform us into His image. I don’t like it. It’s hard. It’s heartbreakingly painful. But I am not the same woman I was 11 years ago when this journey began. My beliefs, my way of thinking and my priorities have all changed. For the better. All of our days are not beyond terrible. Some are even pretty nice. There are moments that I see that one stage of my life is ending (with my older kids) and another beginning. I still have many more years ahead with M and S and they may end in heartache, too. I will cling to  James 1:12 which says “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”

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  1. Amen, Marty. (((hugs))) I too was heartbroken over Corey’s post. Because I know there is nothing I can to do fix it, or even make it better. :-/

    Like you, I cling to the cross. It’s all I have some days. I hope, one day, I realize it’s all I need.

    Thank you. (((hugs)))

  2. The cross… Oh the Cross of Jesus, “the shadow of a mighty rock within a weary land; a home within the wilderness, a rest upon the way, from the burning of the noontide heat, and the burden of the day.”


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