When You Look At An Adopted Child, You're Looking At A Survivor

Two years ago on Thanksgiving Day, after the dishes were cleared, we filled out our initial application to adopt. A baby girl. Last year, there "she" sat at our Thanksgiving table, a just-turned-10 year old boy. Now he's 11, much bigger than the picture in my sidebar, and I simply can't imagine our life without him.

Recently I heard a speaker say "When you look at an adopted child, you're looking at a survivor."








By now you have probably either heard of the movie, The Blind Side, or hopefully have seen it. I could relate to so much of it. Especially this:

"You're changing his life, Sweetie."

"No, he's changing mine."

By God's grace, He protected my "blind side" and opened my eyes to what he had for our family. We have been forever changed. I've had so much for which to be thankful this weekend.

Back To Reality and Monday's Menu

Well, we are back! My husband and I had a glorious, soul-wrecking, beautiful, exhausting, joyful, heart-wrenching, energizing, physically-draining week in Ethiopia last week. Notice how all the descriptors in the previous sentence seem to be at odds? That about sums it up. Conflicting emotions. All week long. One minute I would be joyfully dancing with children, singing songs in their language that I learned to sing with my own Ethiopian son at home, thinking "It just doesn't get any better than this!!" The next minute I was squatting down on a small stool on the side of a high mountain, praying with a husband and wife both infected with HIV, holding their small son whom they so desperately want to survive to raise, surrounded by the tents in which they and their "refugee" community live as outcasts from their families and communities. One minute I would be at a beautiful restaurant, enjoying the amazing food and absorbing the culture of that enchanting and ancient country, the next I would be looking out the car window at the street people who live huddled under a blanket and starving on the median of a busy street, or handing packets of my snack crackers and trail mix through my car window to a starving child, or mother with a hungry baby on her back. How? How am I supposed to feel?

We landed at the Frankfurt airport as we have this time of year on previous trips to Africa... straight from huts, orphans, poverty and need to holiday glitz, commercialism and excess. Once home, we drove our Suburban through the streets of our upper middle class subdivision, on our way to pick up our dogs from the kennel where they lived in more comfort than some of the people we had seen just hours before. As we turned out of our subdivision, the trees are already lit for the Christmas season, greenery and bows adorn the entrance...a reminder that one of my main tasks in the weeks ahead is to shop, spend and consume. How am I supposed to feel?

I used to feel extreme guilt. I used to question our whole life, geographical location and lifestyle. I used to come home and immediately feel like I was carrying a heavy weight. One thing I have never felt, and to which I feel a certain aversion, is the "Well, it just makes me realize how blessed I am" sentiment. While I absolutely believe in living a life of gratitude, I have never felt comfortable letting the stark contrast between my life and that of a mother in an African village lead me to (indirectly) thank the Lord that I somehow ended up with a better lot than her. But, how? How am I supposed to feel?

I don't believe I'm supposed to feel guilt or condemnation. That only pulls me down and doesn't edify or help anyone. I'm supposed to sift through my feelings, bring them to Jesus and let Him help me feel what He has placed in my heart to feel for HIS children. If any of those feelings bring conviction, that will pull me up... toward Him and His character. So that is what I'm doing this week. I used to question if we were supposed to leave this life here and plunk down in a hut there. Some are. We aren't. We can better leverage our skills and resources from here. I know we aren't supposed to live here unchanged by what we've experienced on our mission trips, but how does my giving up new cars and recreational decorating directly benefit that mom on the street in Africa? How do my tears translate into real hope for someone else? By action. Only action. Christ's love is demonstrated love. And I'm still on the journey to figuring out what that is. Some are called to leave it all and go there. Some of us are called to leave it short term, go there, come back here, save more money, go back there, on and on. I do believe it has blessed some of our ministry partners to know that we would continue to leave here and go there. Over and over. I actually had a full time vocational missionary tell me she thinks that's harder. In a way I think she's right.

Why am I sharing all of this in the same post as I'm going to do my usual "Monday Menu" post? Isn't that a bit odd? Well, yes and no. Mentally, I need to do what I always do. I've got to get back to my routine, of which planning menus is a part. I also want to keep it real. At least half of what I have planned this week is of the Stouffer's frozen variety. Many women wouldn't even post that on their blogs, but really? After what I've seen in recent days, and what we all know to be reality around the world, we would be ashamed or even dare to think that USDA-approved prepackaged food isn't good enough?

Another reason is that people "click on by" from the Monday Menu link that may never visit my blog any other time. And I want to tell them (you, if that's you!) a piece of our story.

Another reason is what I mentioned above: gratitude. Every mom with a blog could post a menu and feel like it is blog-worthy. Peanut butter sandwiches. Cereal. Cans of soup. Spaghettios. Macaroni and cheese. Frozen dinners. Chicken nuggets. Do you know what all of that has in common? It's God's provision!! Prepare it, post it and be thankful for it, giving Him the glory for providing it.

I have sooooo many more thoughts to post, as you might imagine, but I've already been on here too long, with a Monday's worth of school to put together and a week's worth of Africa to wash out of our clothes. I have missed my blog (no reliable internet there), I have missed my kids, I have missed my weenie dog, I have missed my bed. I have been physically ill and mentally drained. I am ready to tackle what God has for me here at home but I would pack it all up again tomorrow and go back if I could.

One gift I gave myself the week before we left is a planned menu and stocked freezer/pantry for when we returned. So here is what I have planned... by God's grace:

Monday: Stouffer's frozen chicken enchiladas, black beans, salad
Tuesday: Frozen lasagna, frozen garlic bread, bagged caesar salad, frozen peas
Wednesday: Ethiopian food night! Ye Misr Wet (Hot Split Lentil Stew), Fosoleay (carrots and green beans)
Thursday: YO YO (you're on you're own)
Friday: Slow Cooked Corn Chowder, wheat rolls

For more menus, or to share yours (no matter what it is!!) visit Laura at Orgjunkie.com.

I will be sharing more of our week in Ethiopia in the coming days. Thank you to all who went along with us in spirit and lifted us up in prayer. I know some of us will be returning there together someday. God is good.

Eph. 3:20!!