Which China did I visit?

    I'm sitting here tonight stunned by the fact that we've had Will for about five weeks. It seems much longer than that and as I count the weeks of his presence, I think about his foster mother and how she must be counting the weeks of his absence. I actually think about her quite often and how she looked the day I drove away with a very large piece of her heart. She never cried. Her face was intense, however, with the look of self-sorrow. Without language, I was helpless to do anything but reassure her (through our interpreter) that William would be loved and well cared for and that is true. But what about her? Her family? I wonder if they have ever heard the gospel? I wonder if they have been told that they are the beautiful creations of a masterful creator. I wonder if she knows that there is a antidote to sorrow? I pray for her salvation--for the soul saving of a woman who wears a jade Buddha around her neck and a bracelet to ward off evil spirits and I think to myself -how could God get even one little gospel seed to fall there?
I've been pondering those two weeks in China and trying to reflect on the varied aspects of that trip. First and foremost, was the union with our son and the completion of our adoption. But I had prayed all along that God would reveal to me the spiritual needs of China and allow me to see the people (HIS people) with gospel eyes. I long to be burdened for this country. Am I? It's so hard to be when so much about China and her people remain a mystery to me.
     Joanne Pittman, (in her Gospel Coalition article: 8 Myths About China Today) perfectly summarizes my feelings towards China. She writes,

 

In order to understand China today, it's helpful to understand this simple rule: nothing is as it seems. In fact, I would say this rule applies when observing and analyzing nearly all segments of life in China: politics, economy, social relationships, and even religion. To put it another way, whatever China seems to be at any given moment, it is in fact the opposite. This can be difficult for Westerners, because we tend to be dichotomist in our thinking, wanting something to be either this or that. We don't do well with this and that.

   

It may be hard for you to understand, but she is exactly right in her summation. China is like a face at a masquerade ball. Bewildering and confusing.  Double-layered. China is modern, rich, and powerful yet traditional, poor, and unstable. The people are more free than they have ever been, yet the Government's presence hangs heavy in the dirty air. The Church is present and the government boasts  "religious freedom" and yet all religious activity must be approved and registered.  I never had the sense that I completely understood how things really are for Chinese people.

    Our guide in Guangzhou was very open to the questions we had about the Chinese way of life. Knowing that the people are extremely patriotic in China, I was careful to phrase my questions delicately. I broached the subject of the one-child only policy (a policy that is slowly changing and currently does not apply to all Chinese women), questioning the course of action for those women who might unexpectedly find themselves pregnant with a second child. Sadly, Jack reported that the women are reported to the police when they start to show. The police turn them over for a government mandated abortion---even well in to the seven month and beyond. How many of you have now-healthy children who were born prematurely in the seventh or eighth month? My stomach turned and I fought to hide my sheer disgust. I could hardly say anything--we (the United States) voluntarily dispose of our babies like yesterday's leftovers. All of a sudden China's sin problems weren't looking so unique.

    I know God is moving in China but I have never been in a country where there was such a lack of churches and such a presence of pagan worship. But within my own heart, I could not feel God. I could not see Him in the faces of the people like I do here. Superstition replaces scripture and the people pin their entire futures on lifeless, powerless images and rituals. Emptiness. The gospel is an untold story in much of the country. I honestly believe that to serve as a missionary in China is to be a laborer tilling the hardest of soil. The language is a virtual impossibility to learn. The people know their country's history. They have a deep fertile root system sprawled out and wrapped around Buddhism, traditional folk beliefs, and superstition. To renounce that would be to renounce their family, their national pride, their heritage---everything. Lord, help my unbelief! I found myself thinking that there just might be places God himself can't reach. Despite all I have learned and experienced, I still make God smaller than He really is.





 

How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!”
(Romans 10:14-15 ESV) 

 

Who has believed what he has heard from us? And to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed? For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned--every one--to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.  

(Isaiah 53:1-6)

 

One message delivered by way of preaching can sweep that nation for Jesus and I have to want it for them. I have to pray it for them. I have to feel the ache of telling Will that his parents might not ever hear the gospel and might not ever believe. The immovable walls of people closed in on me for two weeks and I thought about the number of non-believers in a country of  1,347,350,000 in a world of 7.044 billion and it meant something.

I want beautiful feet. I want to take the gospel into the home, the community, the schools, the workplace, the grocery store, the world. Tell me how, Lord. Show me where.

 

Perhaps these pictures will show some of the faces of China.

 



In the Boat with Jesus

And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still! And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, "Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?"

--Mark 4:38-40

 

 

   The seas got mighty rough today. I'm in the boat with Jesus and I'm waiting for the moment when he stretches out his arms, lifts his head to the heavens and in a single breath of ease commands the storm to cease. It hasn't happened. The calm may not be coming.

  Like the disciples sailing on the Sea of Galilee that day, I fear drowning in this storm that has come my way. Like the disciples who lacked the expertise to handle such severe conditions, I lack the knowledge to calm a little heart raging wildly against everything and everyone. I have no plan. I have no power. I have no control. But Jesus is in the boat.
  Today was by far the hardest day yet with Will. The grieving has stopped and anger has set in. He is so desperate to control something, anything in his life that even the smallest decision made for him stirs up a windstorm that leaves me crying out to the sleeping God in the boat: "Why have you called me to this when it's so clear I can't handle it?" Will raged continually throughout the day and by suppertime I was physically holding his writhing body against mine, constricting his arms and legs until he submitted.  Submission came one hour and fifteen minutes later when we were both sweat drenched and I couldn't formulate the words "I love you" without them sounding like a lie. I came undone.
  And laying him down in his crib for the night's sleep, he rolls over and faces me through the slats. I tell him I love him and I mean it. He shakes his head no. I say it again. He shakes his head no. I say it again. He pushes his hand through the gap and I take it in mine and stroke his palm as his eye lids close. His steady breathing holds no memory of the days events. The storm has calmed for this night at least.
 As I was re-reading the story of Jesus calming the storm, I was reminded that though the disciples were fearful and panicked, Jesus was so at peace that he was sleeping. Although my fears rise up from time to time and I doubt my ability to parent this hurting child, God is at peace. He has every power and every remarkable resource available to him which he can call down on my storm. And he's not getting out of the boat.
 Furthermore, Jesus didn't even have to calm the storm in order for the disciples to be alright. God's presence was all they needed...and it's all I need too. Yes, I'd like for things to get easier, but if they don't I will not feel like this endeavor was a mistake. I will not doubt God's sovereignty in orchestrating Will's union with our family.  I will know that God's presence throughout the storm was what I needed and I will praise him.

  Whatever your storm is, I'm praying courage for you. I'm resting in the truth that with God's presence throughout the turmoil, we will all be fine.  I stand in awe of a God who calls nature to obey and I humbly ask him to turn the little heart of a two year old towards mine. Lower his defenses and let him be still enough to feel peace for the first time in his life.  I ask God to help the others in the storm--Molly, Grace, and Ben who are so young in their understanding of who God is and the complicated nature of his ways. Oh, that we can show them more of him throughout this struggle. And I ask for the grace to get up tomorrow and get back in the boat yet again. I can do this because He is the master of the ship.

An Interesting Little Discovery

 Just a short post this morning as I sit here playing with Ben and Will. The screen door is open and the lovely early fall breeze is floating through the house. I'm grateful for cooler days.
  I've been seeking ways to help William calm down when he enters one of his spectacular crying fits. Sometimes he lets me hold him. Sometimes he sits in the corner. Regardless of the strategy, it takes a very long time for it to be over. Who knew that a two year old could have so many tears to shed? Today I tried something new. I'd purchased a couple of classical music CDs for William to listen to. I've read research about classical music helping to stimulate the "feel good" parts of the orphan brain that have previously been dormant. I wasn't really expecting any results, but the strangest thing happened. He was instantly silent. His beautiful little eyebrows furrowed and he stared intently in the direction of the music. Next, he moved his hands back and forth (left to right) with the music and started humming. He smiled a soft little smile.
  I'm sure it's not my cure-all for crying, but I'm going to make it a point to play some music throughout the day as a sort of mental break for him....and for me.
Check out these classical piano CDs especially designed for babies and toddlers (I have both). You will love them too!

Helen Marlais' Classics for Babies
Helen Marlais' Classics for Toddlers
*Both are roughly $10.00 on Amazon.

Perhaps I have a musician on my hands!

PSA Part II

 

Hurt children learned early in their lives that smiles are not to be trusted.

They know adult actions may end in pain.

They are hard-wired by early experiences to know that the only safety is in total and complete control of their emotional and physical environment.

---Parenting the Hurt Child

 

 

 



   I thought that I'd sit down to write part II of what I've learned thus far in parenting Will (or trying to). It's been a hard day. The house has seemed slightly chaotic with complaining, crying, and just general discontentment from all the children. Will has cried off and on for most of the day. So, these thoughts are good reminders for myself as we press on in a devotion to love as Christ loves us. Total and sacrificial love.

 

5. You can't know what you don't know. Whatever age your child is when he or she is brought into your family---BIG chunks of their past are missing and probably gone forever. I really have to remember this when William reacts in a manner which I find "strange". I don't know his past. When these "orphan moments" (as we like to call them) arise, I'm quick to remember that his actions are rooted in something...some event...some circumstance that I didn't witness. Some examples: Whenever I do speak to Will in a stricter tone, he runs to a specific corner in our house and stays there until he's ready to come out. I don't know why. Maybe he was put in the corner in the orphanage?? All I know is that he feels the need to do it and he ain't moving until he's good and ready. Control. He has a fascination with closing doors, flicking light switches, and ordering things. He carries his cup around all day long. It has to be in his hand. These things are a mystery to me, but it's part of who he is at the moment. So, give yourself grace that you weren't there during his childhood to understand how the puzzle was originally put together. Just work with the pieces you have.

 

6. Study your child. I think this really goes back to being present...fully present. I spend a lot of time just watching Will. I know he is beginning to sound like my little science project, but watching him is very revealing. Occasionally, through watching him and playing with him, I can fill in one of those missing puzzle pieces and provide and explanation for a certain behavior. This happened soon after we returned home. Any time I'd been out with him, he would come into the house and begin pulling at my feet and ankles. I finally figured out that he wanted my shoes and socks off because in Chinese homes you do not enter the house wearing outside shoes and socks. He is very pleased with me when I remember to kick off my shoes! Makes sense, right? Easy enough. I know that he likes to group things by color and wants to see how things work. He likes for all the t.v. remotes to be in the same place so organization is important to him. He is a very clever little guy. He's probably picked up 20 English words and several phrases. The boy is a fast learner. I feel like I'm getting to know him at a faster rate by just sitting near him and watching him and interacting with him when he feels like having a playmate.

 

7. Be patient. BE PATIENT. I'd better settle in and wait because it's going to take a long time for this superficial relationship to deepen into genuine love on his part. I've been looking at his picture for over a year. He's been looking into my face for three weeks. I want so badly for him to want me and to need me and to be completely comforted by my presence and embrace. But all relationships take time and investment. I'm committed to both and if you've decided to adopt then you are too. Patience really has to be a thread that runs through every part of this experience. I have to be patient with the other children when they feel neglected or frustrated or just plain sick and tired of Will's crying (Ben walks around with his hands over his ears). I have to be patient with Brent when he looks at me with eyes that say---he's crying AGAIN??? I have to be patient with myself and remember that all those hours of holding a baby and feeding a baby and caressing a baby were absent from Will's life and I'm starting over. He's starting over. Two years of difficult can't be erased in three weeks. It will come. I know it will come.

 

8. It's less about changing him and more about changing me. Sure I want Will to heal and grow. But I'm realizing daily that it's me who needs to change. There's so very much I need to change about myself as I work daily in my role as wife and mother. Adoption forces change. The hours I have prayed and the middle-of-the-night conversations with God have begun to turn from praying for certain desired outcomes in my children to praying for a heart change within myself. The Maker needs to remake me. I need a gentle spirit and wise words. I need patience and compassion. I need discernment. Perhaps then the little people under my care will begin to change as they watch their mother change. I'm weary from the carousel-ride of trying to change myself. Failing. Surrendering. Letting God temporarily take over. The ride keeps running and I don't know when I got on or how to get off. I think adoption has slowed the ride a little because I just can't do this. God is going to have to do it through me and He's going to change me to do it. Praise God! The rescuer comes for me again.

 

  I've put all the children to bed now and for the first time all day the house is quiet and still. If I could close with any advice, it would be to remember the call. If God has called you to adopt then reminding yourself of His beckoning towards adoption will help you plant your feet and stand firm. I know the sweet peace of being nestled right in the center of God's will. I feel it now. I know we are doing exactly what He wants us to do. It's what kept me in China when I wanted to run. It's what keeps me calm and tender towards Will when he rejects me over and over. It's what causes my heart to swell when he does run to me or allow me to hold him tightly. Nothing about this is easy and God never promised us easy, did He? But He made many more promises to me personally in His word and I don't have to pray for them. I already have them by way of being his heir and daughter.

  Each eveing as night falls and Will is in my arms before bed, I sing Jesus Loves Me in hushed tones. I sing it for him. I sing it for me.

 

 

JESUS LOVES ME

“Jesus loves me—this I know,
For the Bible tells me so:
Little ones to him belong,—
They are weak, but he is strong.

 

Chorus:
Yes, Jesus loves me,
Yes, Jesus loves me,
Yes, Jesus loves me-
The Bible tells me so!

 

“Jesus loves me,—he who died
Heaven’s gate to open wide;
He will wash away my sin,
Let his little child come in.

Chorus

 

“Jesus loves me—loves me still,
Though I’m very weak and ill;
From his shining throne on high
Comes to watch me where I lie.

Chorus

 

“Jesus loves me,—he will stay
Close beside me all the way.
Then his little child will take
Up to heaven for his dear sake.”

Chorus

Adoption Public Service Announcement

  Today's blog is especially for my friends who are currently in the process of adopting....and for myself when I need a reminder of what to focus on during these early days. I want to share some thoughts that might provide some helpful insight into how to prepare for the time when you walk through the door of your home with your new child in arms. I  have a whole month's worth of experience which makes the following advice highly reputable, don't you think? I thought so. Will, hopefully you'll read this one day and see how loved you are and how far we've come.
Here goes.
1. Get educated. It's time to turn off Dancing with the Stars and pick up some books which offer realistic expectations about what adopted children are like and, furthermore, equip you with helpful strategies for dealing with behaviors that are probably unfamiliar to you.  I read a few books during the adoption process, but I had several here in the house for when we came home.  I wanted to be reading in the midst of our transition so that I wouldn't forget the information and also so that I could look at my child in action and apply the appropriate recommendations immediately. I recommend 1) Parenting your Internationally Adopted Child by Patty Cogen 2) The Connected Child by Dr. Karen Purvis and 3) Parenting the Hurt Child by Gregory Keck and Regina Kupecky.
You will not be sorry that you read these books. Orphans come into your care pre-wired in very specific ways. Adoption research reveals consistent patterns of behavior among most orphans and understanding   the wiring system is invaluable to how you approach your new child. The main reason (apart from grace) that I'm not curled up in the fetal position within the dark confines of my basement right now is because I know what to expect and I can calm myself down by saying: this is normal. No matter how disturbing a behavior may be- when you know that it is normal for a child to be exhibiting such behavior at this stage of adoption, it makes you feel encouraged and empowered.
***note: If you have the opportunity to attend one of Karen Purvis' Empowered To Connect conferences you MUST go. For Brent and I, it was the single best tool to equip us for adoption. She is a phenomenally dynamic and entertaining speaker. The content is intriguing and you will leave feeling like you have a solid foundation on which to build once you return home with your child.
2. Hibernate. If you look up the word "social" in the dictionary, there's my picture and I'm just a smiling and a waving. I absolutely love people and I thrive on fellowship and companionship and camaraderie etc... But when you return from Who-Knows-Whereville with your son or daughter you have to withdraw for an indefinite period of time. I resigned from every committee, activity, and commitment that I was involved in. I plan on being a vapor for several months and I feel great about it. If you want any shot of strongly and deeply attaching with your child, you have to be present. It really is that simple.  The same goes for taking your child out and about. Really limit it. The more faces he sees, the more confused he becomes about who you are. To put it in perspective, right now William can endure only about 20 minutes of concentrated interaction (i.e. taking him to a friend's house or to church etc...) before he completely melts down.
3. Prepare your children and family.  By choosing to adopt, you (via God) have made a monumental decision on behalf of your children and family members. They have (perhaps unwillingly) been pulled into a really hard place with a child who can be, quite honestly, difficult to love. I should have prepared the children for the amount of crying they would have to endure. With an eight, six, and four year old in the house, we don't really hear a lot of screaming crying like babies do. Enter William to remind us. The kids initially were really bothered by it. They kept asking me to make it stop and I couldn't! It also created a nasty habit of them giving Will whatever he wanted to avoid the on-set of a crying fit. Reassure your children that the crying is normal and is temporary. Try to make them understand what he's feeling. Try to explain why he needs so much care and attention from Mommy right now etc... The same with family members. Transition will go more smoothly if you explain some of that fabulous orphan behavior information you gleaned from those great books above :) That way, Grandma won't run away the first time your child throw an earth-shaking tantrum when all she did is say hello and look him in the eye!!!!!!!
4. Establish some boundaries. Others may disagree, but I feel that one has to establish some immediate boundaries with an adopted child. I can't let Will come in to our family and commandeer every toy from my other children and then persist to scream like a Howler Monkey when he doesn't get it. I can't allow him to hit me or my children. So we sternly tell him NO. If he hits me, I take his hand and show him how to touch my face gently and say sternly, "We do not hit Mommy".  He is understanding already and I've seen a reduction in fit-throwing when his brother or sister has something that he wants. It's a start.

......more to come. You're on the edge of your seat, I know.
I'll leave you with some encouragement--the face I get to see when he's calm and happy. It spurs me on.

Taking to the skies with Amelia Earhart

  Yesterday was my first solo flight with all four children. My co-pilot had to return to work and so I took the controls alone hoping that when he returned at the end of the day, we'd all still be here!
  Will woke up happy and playful and I wrangled the cattle into the van for our school run (on time I might add). The girls were dropped off and then Ben. I was looking forward to our first day of just being mother and son. We had a really great morning. We played trains and trucks together, did a puzzle, went outside for a while, cut and ate watermelon (a favorite of his) and just spent time quietly playing and interacting with one another. I have to say, I was totally rockin' this adoptive mother thing. He was taking me by the hand and leading me around the house. He was looking into my eyes and laughing and engaging me in games. It felt really easy and natural. He loves books and so we spent quite a bit of time exploring the pages of different lift-the-flap books. It's so fun to see him delighted with a picture or exclaim something in Chinese in an excited voice. The rest of the day was just as successful and my heart was encouraged. Maybe it's just not going to be that hard. And then the night came.
  Williams goes to sleep very well. No objections. No crying. While it's nice to not hear the screaming protests of a child resisting sleep, it's not a good thing. Think about it. The whole reason little babes scream going down from a very young age is because they sense the separation from their parent and they don't know they're safe outside of the physical presence of mommy and daddy. Over time, they learn that they are, in fact, secure. But even older children delay the separation at night (i.e. I need ANOTHER drink of water. Please scratch my back. Will you read another 1400 page Dr. Seuss book?) It's the simple desire to stay close to that which makes us feel secure. So Will falling asleep without protest means he is disconnected from us and does not yet recognize the need for soothing from us. When he does finally recognize that need, a whole new set of sleep problems will arise.
   He was restless in his early evening sleep--calling out, crying with his eyes tightly closed. I would go in to the room and stroke his cheek and let him hear my voice. At 2 a.m. he woke crying hard and it escalated from there. I can only compare his cry to that of a siren. It's intense, monotone and the only modulation of sound comes when I approach. Given our euphoric Mary-Poppins kind of a day, I was sure I could console him and lull him back to sleep like some kind of orphan-whisperer. ER. WRONG. I am the absolute last person he wants to see during his night struggles. I wanted to say to him, "Do you not remember the lovely day of bonding we've just experienced? I'm cool, remember? I make train sounds and act like I don't know where the puzzle piece goes! We're good now."
Nothing.
The crying lasted roughly the same amount of time as the Vietnam War. Finally, he surrendered his inconsolable outburst and fell asleep on Brent. We laid him in the bed and tried to get some rest.
  Progress with Will these days is like drawing a beautiful image on a magna-doodle and then someone comes along and wipes the screen completely clean. We have to start all over again and I'd just like to see some outline of the image there from day to day.
  It is ONLY because of the Holy Spirit's gentle holding of me that I am able to walk through this right now without becoming frustrated or angry with Will's behavior. I can honestly say that I haven't had one moment where I've wanted to do anything other than hold him tightly and love him. His face is the picture of innocence. His life has been rather sloppily constructed on a platform of choices made by others for reasons unknown. And so he cries.
  In the night I pray. I pray for the salvation of our four children. Without Christ, there is no balm for the hurts of this world. I will fail each of these little people. He won't. They call us an orphan's "Forver Family," bit I don't like the naming. The only one who is forever is God and when we're all in His presence, we'll know peace.
And so I start again today. Anew. Re-drawing an image of beauty for Will to see. One day I'll wake up and find the image intact.

Our God is marvelous. He created us with such detail and delicacy that I just marvel at the complexity of his creation. Take, for instance, the orphan brain. I've been reading a lot about what Will has experienced and is experiencing since his abandonment at just fourteen days old. Did you know that even a newborn who is adopted from birth (i.e. taken home from the hospital) knows the separation from  its biological mother and the brain begins to stress and change? Adrenaline increases (fight or flight) and cortisol (the chemical which manages stress) decreases dramatically. Orphans have a very low level of oxytocin, a socializing biochemical, and therefore they are resistant to touch or play. The list goes on and on. It is so evident that God created us to connect. When important connections are severed, the brain goes wild in rebellion. But in the beauty of a skilled creator's hand, the one and only God allows the orphan brain to be restored slowly. Our journey to restore Will is just beginning. While his brain is changeable, it is not erasable. We are seeking to build new pathways--no easy task.
  We've been home almost a week now and it's been a insightful week. I learn huge amounts about Will each and every day. Here are the good points-- He smiles and laughs and accepts affection. He will make eye contact with me and play games with me where he has to maintain a stare (Peek-a-boo). This is good because it's making a direct connection. He will mimic me and my name (Mama). Again, he's connecting me with a role in his life. He will take my hand and lead me somewhere--connecting. I try to do this with him off and on all day and it's exhausting. I'm always in close proximity--usually right next to him while he's playing. I want to discourage independence and encourage his dependence on me. I want him to know that I can provide all of his needs. In essence, I'm working super hard to gain trust and I wish there was a quick way to accomplish this. There isn't. We'll be working on this for years to come because his brain is wired to survive alone.
   The challenges: any gentle reprimand results in a total melt-down. If we show any displeasure at all, he freaks out. We have to balance our knowledge of how fragile it is to discipline orphans at this stage in our relationship with the need to establish boundaries for the sake of our other children. He cannot hit them, snatch from them etc... It ain't going well. He is very possessive. You touch his shoes--it's over. If he has a toy that he wants to hold all day and you mess with it--it's over. He has a very strong Will (perhaps he's living up to his name). It's like walking on eggshells. You just don't know what will launch Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde into an alarming fit of tears, screaming, kicking, swatting etc... You kind of want to step back, look at his darling face, and say-- "This is coming from that???" It's bad. It's "call the Super-Nanny" bad.
 As we stumble along depositing minuscule amounts into Will's trust bank, I'm so thankful that I have a Savior who is trustworthy and faithful to me. As our relationship with our son strengthens, he'll begin to call up past occurrences where we have proven faithful. When I'm facing giant challenges or little anxieties, I can call up a twenty four plus year track record of God's faithfulness to me. He too discourages independence and encourages dependence on Him. I love that I can see myself in Will. When he's struggling with his identity I can share that I too struggle with mine. For our identity is not in the temporary earthly relationships of parents but in the only dependable never failing relationship with our Heavenly Father.
   The photos below show a little of how Will is relating to the children. He is connecting with the girls first because he had three foster sisters. He is not all that taken with Ben, and when he wants Ben's toys--Ben is not all that taken with him! It's going to take a long time for Will to learn how to be part of a family. But he is part of our family. I love him. I'm beginning to understand him. I'm learning that he will never be exclusively mine. By necessity--I have to open my life up to his foster mother and biological mother (even though she's unknown) so that it's always a part of how we relate to him.  I can't pretend that they don't exist.

 

 We're thinking of planting two shrubs to represent his foster family and biological family so that he has something concrete to visit. Our roots are all going to grow together into this wonderful picture of God's family---glorious ruins.