Keeping it real

(Please forgive me if I've said any of this before.  I'm too tired to go back and reread all my posts and my brain's synapses aren't firing at full strength to remember.  Another problem is that I've spoken to so many people that it's hard to remember with whom I've shared what.  But this is on my mind today, so bear with...)

I am 48 years old.  (Yes, I had to backspace and edit that after typing "47" because if you know me very well, you know that I struggle remembering exactly how old I am.)  I am 48 years old.  I have been married for more than half of my life, for almost 25 years.  I was raised in the church and made a commitment to Jesus when I was only 7.  Sadly I do not have 41 years of Christian maturity under my belt, though, because it took a long time for me to really walk the walk.  But I do have experience, and here's what I've learned in my life about becoming Christlike (the fancy Christianese term for this is sanctification).

When Robert and I became engaged in 1992, we both recommitted our lives - and our marriage - to Christ.  Over the next few years I experienced what I will now call first-level sanctification.  Sounds clinical, doesn't it?  A new phase of sanctification begins when you seek to honor God in your marriage.  Suddenly decisions are no longer made in terms of you as an individual, but in terms of you as a couple.  Self begins to die in a new way.  It matters less what *I* want and more about what is best for the *us.*  And of course, marriage is a beautiful picture of our relationship with God - which is why divorce breaks His heart.

Four years later, we entered into a phase of what I'll call second-level sanctification:  having kids.  Definitely our relationships with the Lord deepened as we learned we needed Him to give us wisdom and patience in dealing with these tiny miniature versions of our carnal selves.  Certainly, if you've raised children, you can see time after time of how much the parent-child relationship is a parallel to the God-man relationship, a time-after-time reminder of how God parents us, His children.  It's crazy, right?  When we beat our heads in frustration because our child just misbehaved in the same way for like 5 days in a row, we get a glimpse of what might possibly cross our Father's mind as we continue in the same patterns of sin ourselves.  "When is she going to get it?" I feel I can hear Him say, just as I may have said to myself about my child.  But He loves me through it with grace and patience, the Perfect Example for me to follow in my own parenting.

Phase three in my personal sanctification was taking care of Pop.  In the last few months of his life, it was certainly the hardest thing I'd ever done.  I am grateful we got Emily's help, and I know I had support and prayer from others - but this was a level of dying to myself and putting loving service ahead of everything else that I'd never experienced.  I also saw a selflessness and servant-heartedness in my husband that gave me a sense of awe. 

And now, in this adoption process, I have to say that this is, as far as I can see, top-level sanctification.  In fact, I often refer to Charlie as "my sanctification."  Parenting our three biological children had its challenges, of course, but when you decide to love unconditionally another human being that came from what feels like another planet sometimes - when you don't understand the way he thinks or why he does what he does - when he doesn't understand your sense of humor or way of speaking or ways of doing things (even brushing teeth!) - it is exhausting.

You think, with 2 1/2 children raised successfully to adulthood, that parenting a fourth wouldn't be that hard.  But I'm telling you, it's like if you raised chickens all your life and someone suddenly handed you a mule. 

I cannot discipline Charlie in the same way I have always disciplined my other children.

I cannot joke with him the same way we Wigginses joke.

I cannot understand his logic or reasoning for why he does what he does.  (And I'm not sure he does, either.)

I do not know how to explain why we parent him differently than the other kids. 

He does not learn in the same way my other kids learn.

This process is hard, folks.  It's frustrating, and it's draining.  Sometimes I feel like he really is from another planet.  Or that maybe we are. 

Last week, a well-meaning but offensive individual asked me how the process was going, and then: "Do you regret it?"

Let me explain something.  When I married Robert, we agreed before ever walking down the aisle that divorce was never an option.  And so, 25 years later, even when we fight, I never allow my mind to go there - I will not consider or entertain even the thought of divorce.

When I became pregnant with Grace and was told that she had Down syndrome and that they would schedule "the termination" right away, I was offended.  This was my child.  I didn't care if she would be born without a head or with three legs - abortion was off the table.  I will not consider or entertain even the thought of abortion.

And after dragging my feet about pursuing adoption for many, many months, when I finally did decide, it was just that: a decision.  I was all in.  I would commit to him, no matter what.  I will not consider or entertain even the thought of regret.

We are tired.  We are overwhelmed.  But this is what God calls us to - so that we will come to Him, and abide with Him, and be refreshed and renewed.  So that we will learn what it means to die to self.  So that we will become more like Christ.  So that we will be able to meet the needs of others, particularly those who have no one else to advocate for them.  So that we will be able to teach them about Jesus, and His self-less example of giving and serving and dying for us.

Regret is self-focused. I want to be a Jesus-focused, Jesus-consumed Jesus freak.

Chapter 18: The reason for the season

In many ways, adopting an 8-year-old child *is* just like adding another baby to your family.  There is a lot to adjust to.  There are a lot of people to be introduced.  There are routines to establish and learn.

Thankfully, this one sleeps beautifully through the night.

Early December was filled with introducing Charlie to our family friends, our church friends, and the like. We also began family therapy to increase (hopefully) our bonding with him.  And of course, Christmas season was quickly upon us so there was much excitement in the air.  The kids had holiday parties and holiday concerts, and soon an incredibly long winter break was upon us.

Speaking of Christmas, we had a bit of a difficult time with Charlie, because this child (like most, I suppose) absolutely idolized Santa, the Elf of the Shelf, and the like.  It was actually quite a rude awakening I think, when we had this exchange one night:

Me:  Charlie, do you know why you shouldn't lie to Mama?

Charlie:  Because then Santa won't come?

Me:  Charlie, I couldn't care less if Santa ever stepped foot in this house.

His eyes got quite wide at that.  How could I mean that?  (I went on to explain to him that Jesus IS truth, and the devil, Jesus's enemy is the father of lies.  I want my son to be more like Jesus than His enemy!)  But how could I possibly not care about Santa Claus?

Thus this past Christmas season we became quite intentional - even more than usual - in reminding our new son that Christmas is about Jesus, not Santa or an elf or a snowman or any of that.  Sure, we include those things in our celebrations, but they are minimized.  We do our best to keep Jesus front and center, and this year we worked extra hard at it.

Instead of Elf of the Shelf, we discovered The Shepherd on the Search.  It was interesting.  We weren't very disciplined at doing activities every day - I never am with advent fun because it's just too busy a season.  We purchased and read books that showed even Santa pointing to Jesus.  And we sought out opportunities to teach and worship Jesus in our day-to-day activities.

Were we successful?  I hope so, overall.  Probably not perfectly.  I expect a similar conflict next year - or, even sooner actually, as Easter is around the corner.  But that's okay.  God did not bring me into this child's life to teach him about Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, but about Himself and His Son, our Savior.  My primary responsibility is to teach this child that nothing else in this life is remotely as important as Jesus.

In all, we had a wonderful Christmas.  Mom and Deb were able to come to Colorado, thankfully.  They got to meet Charlie and pour into him and we had a great holiday where everyone was spoiled rotten, as usual.  We closed out the year with Charlie's attendance at a birthday party for one of Ro's coworker's kiddos - his first birthday party, I believe - and he received great compliments on his behavior.  Charlie went to bed early as usual on New Year's Eve and Ro and I weren't far behind - wiped out as usual.

2016 might have been the most surprising year I'd ever had.  We had much to look for in 2017.

Chapter 17: Thankful

In Mid-November, Charlie's brother George was legally adopted by the Weasleys.  Robert and I were invited to the adoption hearing, and a number of other friends and family were crowded into the family courtroom as well.  It was BEAUTIFUL.  I was emotional.  And I was jealous for the day when we will call our Charlie by his rightful last name: Wiggins.

Grandpa and Grandma D were the first extended family to meet Charlie, coming from their winter digs in Arizona for Thanksgiving.  It was a first on a couple of fronts... not only did they get to meet their newest grandson (but not youngest!) and it was Charlie's first Thanksgiving with us, but it was also the first Thanksgiving I had spent with my Dad in many, many, many years.

I have to say... when we first began this process, I didn't know how my family would react.  Many have watched us make choices over the years that yes, we believe put our family first, but also strained us financially, and to add a fourth child at a time when I could perhaps join the workforce regularly and help transition us into a new tax bracket...

Plus... four kids?!  Come on.  Our family is big enough!

I knew God called us to it.  I knew my husband and kids were on board.  I knew I had the support of church friends and family.  I just wasn't too sure about my parents and sister.  Maybe I sold them short, I don't know.  I'm just being honest here - I was scared to death to tell all of them.

And when I told my dad over the phone a couple of months earlier that we had decided to pursue the adoption of Charlie, he was incredibly excited and beyond supportive.  He would call or text from time to time, asking questions about Charlie or his background or needs.  Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was, and I took it as further confirmation that this is exactly what God had planned for our family.

So when Dad and Denise decided to join us for Thanksgiving, it was truly, truly something to be thankful for.

They met our Charlie the day before.  It was a simple time of hanging out and catching up.  It was lovely.  And the next day we got to celebrate both Thanksgiving and Charlie's birthday together... it was a wonderful, wonderful day.  Very, very thankful.

On Friday, rather than joining the rest of the world fighting over sales and deals, we celebrated Charlie's eighth birthday with a party at the roller rink.  He'd never had a party before (indeed, I honestly believe that before he moved in with us, he hadn't even *attended* a birthday party before!), and we went all out.  Unfortunately, it was a holiday weekend, so only one of his school chums could attend, but even that was a blessing - turns out that child's mom works in the adoption industry and we have since begun getting to know each other and are becoming friends.  We had some friends Charlie's age from church, Grace and her friend, and our family including Grandma and Grandpa D.  We ate too much pizza and cake and drank too much soda, skated til our feet were sore, and played the arcade games.  There was a silly grin on my boy's face until we tucked him in at the end of the night.

It delighted us to do it.  It delighted us to delight in him, to celebrate him.  Someone should have been doing that for him for the last eight years.

Wonderful

I had a realization the other day.  I was thinking about how Charlie has been more challenging of late - nothing major, but simple disobedience, or lack of quick obedience, pushing boundaries, arguing, that sort of thing.  I didn't notice it as much at the beginning.

But the beginning for us was kind of a strange time.  Over his first two months here, we celebrated his birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas; we had time off from school for Thanksgiving break and a looooong time off for Christmas break; we had visits from out-of-town grandparents and an aunt...  Life didn't return to "normal" until he was two months with us.  So now that we're settling in, it's normal, I think, for him to test and push back.

Normal maybe, but still not fun.

And it's so easy to focus on the tough times, the moments we are disappointed or frustrated or even disrespected.  It's exhausting and wearing, and when those "battles" (to use a favorite word of his) come, they seem like that's all it is - one big battle.  But then, from time to time, we step back and appreciate a moment like this:

The other night I was tucking Charlie in to bed.  He asked again about the adoption date (he can't seem to get the difference between months and years ;) ) as he climbed into bed.  As he prayed, he digressed from his usual prayer (thanking God for all the fun he had that day) to thank God for these "wonderful, wonderful... wonderful, wonderful" parents and said he couldn't wait to be adopted by the Wiggins family.

It really moved me.  Things are challenging and tough, but here and there we are blessed to get glimpses of the beauty of living out the gospel. 

Remind me of this on the next hard day.

Chapter 16: Settling in

Looking back at my notes, I am surprised at how crazy those first few weeks were.  I think in a sense, it is kind of like having a newborn - much of the first few weeks slowly becomes a blur as time passes quickly.

We had several bumps those first few weeks, but we definitely had a lot of happy smiles as well.

Of significant note is that Charlie began seeing his brother George again the following week.  Mrs. Weasley and I came up with what I think was a brilliant idea - and it was quickly approved of by Charlie's therapist. (She was very supportive of a natural setting rather than a clinical one.)  We decided to do "fly bys" - where the boys would see each other at church, greet each other, see that all is well with the other, and give a hug; then we would sit apart from each other at church so the boys would not fixate on each other.  We would see how that plan went for a little while and then gradually extend their exposure to each other.

We have been doing these fly-bys nearly every Sunday since early November.  We have had two or three bumps, which the therapist attributes to triggers from Charlie seeing George, but those were early on, and otherwise it's been relatively uneventful since.  It's an interesting relationship.  Charlie loves to see George and give him a hug, but then he is perfectly happy to move on and sit with his own new family.  George was so little when they separated that I'm sadly afraid that his connection is not as strong - but he does enjoy seeing Charlie each week.  Hopefully soon we will be able to transition to longer exposure times.

Another little bump - I got my hand slapped a bit at his school for handing out birthday party invitations.  I hand-made some TMNT invites for a handful of friends, but of course, since I wasn't inviting the whole class, I wasn't allowed to invite only a few, yada yada yada.  Yes, I get it, but that hasn't been an issue with my kids in years.  Apparently his school is different.  How I wish I could invite the whole class!  But come, on - you know that isn't realistic.

I went to the school secretary, though - and explained my dilemma.  "This kid has NEVER had a birthday party!"  What was I supposed to do?  And she quietly emailed me personal addresses and phone numbers for the few kids on his list.  Sweet heart, that one. 

Over those first two weeks, I also had my first IEP meeting with his school (quite overwhelming, to be honest), a dentist appointment, and we decided to begin a family therapy program to hopefully help with bonding and discipline and such.  Charlie got to attend his first father/child event with Grace and Ro at Grace's school, and he is OVER THE MOON to have joined the "chest" club at school.  I'm not sure he's all that great, but he LOVES Wednesdays, because Wednesdays are Chess Club days.

Busy, busy.  It hasn't slowed down yet.  Fast forward to today - 3 1/2 months in - and we still have aggravating days, days where he pushes buttons and tests boundaries.  Days where he's flat-out rebellious and we are stinking tired.  But when I step back from it and look at the big picture, I like to focus on the way he loves to cuddle into my lap to be read to.  I like to think about when he calls from another room, "Mama?" and when I say, "Yes?" he replies, "I love you."  I love when he tells me I'm his favorite mom ever and that he loves us so much. I love to hear him pray every night, "Thank you, God for letting us have FUN." I hate it when he speaks of his biological dad.  I love his dark eyes and his sweet smile, and despite the training that needs to happen, I love his desire to please, and I see his desire to be wanted and loved and treasured.

As he should be.