Day 25: The Deep End

[box] Today’s post is from a dear friend- who is in the process of adopting Viktors right now. Paula contacted me the night before Viktors was to leave us. She had found my blog about him and felt the prompting of the Lord. Her family was uncertain at the time what role the Lord had for her family, she simply knew the Lord was leading and her family was following. This family has become a HUGE influence in our lives as we watch their family follow God straight into unknown territories.[/box]

Guest post from Paula Sloan:

Uncomfortable. I actually had a friend tell me that she thought orphan hosting would be uncomfortable. “How can you bring a child that you don’t know into your home and have him live with you for 5 weeks? You know you have to send him back right? I couldn’t do that; it would be too hard to let him go back. And how are you going to communicate with him? He doesn’t even speak English!” I thought for a few minutes and said “Yep! It’s going to be GREAT!”

I’ve always been a jump right in kind of girl. I remember bungee jumping when I was 18: I leaped off that platform with arms spread wide and enjoyed my moment of flying (okay, it was freefalling, but it felt like flying). I jump into the pool before testing the water; I never go down the stairs. It’s too painful as the cold water from the pool inches up my legs with each step. Nope, that’s not me. You’ll find me down in the deep end, probably lining up behind the kids, waiting on my turn for the diving board.

That’s how I felt when we decided to host (with the intentions of adopting) Viktors. Viktors had been hosted twice before, but had not found his forever family yet. After some time talking with my husband and a lot of prayer, I got that YES! From that moment on, I was all in. If you needed me, I was totally treading water in the deep end and never looked back to that dry ground. Our family has been down the adoption path before; it doesn’t scare us. We’re educated on children from hard places, attachment, and the trauma that orphans – especially older ones – have encountered. We’ve got several tools in our tool belt to help children who have experienced abuse, neglect, abandonment, and attachment issues and we choose to step into those hard places with our kids to help them find healing and the purpose that God has for their life. I had never been so sure about anything in my life. We were moving forward.

It was a warm night in Atlanta, GA and after his flights being delayed for hours, we found ourselves in the airport surrounded by other host families holding their “Welcome to America” signs at 1:00 am as we all waited for our host children to arrive.  It was go time; there was no turning back. I will never forget the nervous feeling I had. Will he like us? Will he be happy with us? He loved his former host moms; will he wish I were more like them? Will he say he wants to go to them instead? These are just a few of the thoughts that were going through my head.

And then we saw him. Wearing that bright green t-shirt and his swim trunks. He made eye contact and we smiled at each other. He looked at the sign we were holding to confirm that we were indeed his host family. He pushed his way through the crowd and made his way to us. Immediately, I threw my arms around him and gave him a hug. The rest of the family followed suit and the next thing you know that little seventy-six pound twelve year old was getting a good old fashioned, southern welcome in the form of (way too many) hugs. We stood in line, waiting for permission to leave (as it was now 2:00 am and the poor child had been traveling over 40 hours), he looked up at me and said “mom, me shower.” Fighting back the tears, I knew that everything was going to be okay. I tried to hold it together while my insides were screaming “Oh, my heavens! He called me mom!”

We got settled into our hotel room and after a quick shower and a snack, that boy was tucked into a bed right next to his brothers for the first time. I couldn’t sleep; I just wanted to watch him.

The days passed with ease and he seemed to fit right into our everyday life. Going to the pool, the park, the zoo, playing video games, watching movies, and playing soccer. It seemed like he had always been here. It was hard to imagine our lives before he came. With the passing of each day, he became more and more open about his life back in his orphanage in Eastern Europe. He talked about his birth family and let me in a little to the mystery that is this amazing boy.

But the words that shook the ground I walked on came on a rainy afternoon while we were snuggled on the couch. “Mom, I have a brother in my orphanage. Can he come to America too? He loves America. It is his dream also.” I can probably count on my fingers the number of times in my life when I literally felt speechless. I managed to get the words, “Really? You have a brother in your orphanage?  I know you have an older brother who is no longer in the orphanage. You have another brother?” He confirmed that yes; he indeed did have a brother in his orphanage. He told us so much about his brother and he spoke of him fondly. He told us that his brother is kind and funny; he told us that he protects him and many of the younger children from the older bullies in the orphanage. He explained that his brother was his half-brother and that he would be sixteen in September.  He told us they often talked and dreamed about a life in America together one day. He said, “mom, my brother is good and I love him. I want him to come to America one day with me.” I smiled, fighting back the tears, and said, “That would be awesome. I hope that can happen one day for you both.”

Uncomfortable. For the first time in a long time, I was unsure. We didn’t sign up for a sixteen-year-old boy. We signed up for a twelve-year-old boy (who physically is the height of my ten year old, weighs the same as my seven year old, and honestly acts like a seven year old too.) Were we sure we heard God right? We couldn’t separate them. Brothers. I look at my boys and can’t fathom them ever being split up; he has lost so much already, he shouldn’t lose his brother too. He’s the only biological family he has left. But how are we going to do it? We’ve never parented a sixteen year old before. This is unfamiliar territory. Each night after we tucked the kids in bed, we hit our knees. We talked and prayed and sought the Lord for answers. He’d brought us this far. We knew we heard Him call us to host and adopt Viktors, but now there was another twist in the road and we can’t see around the corner. We were unsure of how we could and would proceed. We loved this kid as our own. He was tucked in his bed upstairs as we sat crying in the living room and praying for God to somehow make this all come together.

With about 1 week left of summer hosting, we both felt we knew what the Lord was calling us to do. With our arms open wide, we are jumping in, trusting Him, knowing that He is going to catch us and hold us up. Both. God was calling us to both boys. One we had loved all summer in our home and one we had come to know through his little brother. I can admit that there are still times when I am not comfortable with the thought. We recently attended our first parent meeting for the youth group at our church. We didn’t realize we’d be thrust into the youth group scene quite so quickly, yet here we are. Research on high school credits, ESL programs, and driver’s licenses is what keeps us up late at night now. No, we don’t know what we’re doing, but we can trust the One who does and we’re letting Him lead the way. Honestly, this is so far out of my comfort zone, that it is almost comical. I laugh because we know we would have NEVER signed up to host/adopt a 12 year old and a 16 year old, but God had a plan all along. He knew that sweet boy would capture our hearts and then make a way for not only him to join our family, but his big brother too.

I praise Him because He is so faithful. He has been good to us and has blessed us with not only one new son, but two. And as we step into the world of parenting teens, we step outside of our comfort zone and there is where He meets us. In my inability, I find His ability. In my weakness, I find His strength. In my fear, I find His faithfulness. Over the last few months, I’ve come to learn that God’s ways don’t always make sense and doesn’t always feel comfortable, but I’ve also learned that there’s no place I’d rather be.

[box] This is Day 25 in a series, 31 Days to Get Uncomfortable With God. Please click here for a listing of all posts in this series. If you would like posts delivered to your inbox, please click here.[/box]