An Unprepared Momma

I read the post and discovered what time the flight was arriving in Birmingham. 9:30. Too late for my crew. We had to be up early the next morning to visit my dad (5:00), so they needed to get to bed on time. But, casually I asked each person if they wanted to go to the airport. Everyone said no except him. But, the child wanted to go, and by goodness, I was going to take him. Plus, I really needed to see this.

While we were in the process of adopting Jett, this family had begun the adoption of a two week old. He turns 7 this year but Jett still remembered him. So, we hopped in the car, got some caffeine to help us stay awake and made it to the airport.

People began to gather and truly, God was at the airport. His presence filled that place, and it was good. Watching that family who had faithfully pursued their son for almost seven years was good...really good.

I had the opportunity to speak to my friend, the mom, and just whisper God's goodness...His faithfulness...His strength that allowed her to keep fighting for her son. And it was good.

I lowered my head to my son's ear and asked if he wanted to go say Hi. I was unprepared. Clearly, I was unprepared. He wrapped his arms around me, buried his head into my stomach and wept. Ugly cry. Uncontrollable. And it didn't stop for quite a while. I cried with him and for him. I was not expecting this. We've been home with him for six and a half years.

After two more weeping episodes, we were in the car on the way home. I gave him some words because he just couldn't form a sentence. Are you mad, sad, glad, angry, confused, concerned, overwhelmed???? My son finally spoke. I'm glad he's home with his family. I'm happy for him. But, I'm sad. I'm sad because I don't want to remember.

My heart sank and I cried with him again. Because adoption is painful. It involves great grief for everyone in the process. And, it doesn't end when the child comes home. It is still very present. And sometimes I forget because I don't remember life without him here. But, today I remember.

And I thank God that when he wept, he had a momma to hold him and to cry with Him. He has a God who is faithful even when his momma and papa are not. He has a big God that pursued him endlessly and put him in our family. And we have a God who will walk us through life remembering that He is the Father to the fatherless. He set the lonely in our family. He knows what He has done and what He is doing and what He will do. He is sovereign. He reigns. He is good...really good.

I will not tell my son's full story because it is his to tell one day. But, for all of us adults who deal with adoptive kids (and those of you who teach them in classes or have friends who are going through the process), we need to remember that the pain is sometimes very raw, even years later. It can be overwhelming and confusing at times, but it is still there. It compels them at times. It paralyzes at others. But, our God is not surprised or taken aback by it. He can use it for all of our good and His great glory. May it be forever so!