Tag: Adoption Page 10 of 24

When we were in NYC in September, we took the kids to see the Broadway production of Annie.  It was fantastic and our kids loved it.

One of the orphans in the show was a little African-American actress.  If I had seen this production ten years ago, I probably would have thought, Seriously?  A little African-American girl in a Depression-era 1933 New York orphanage?  Like that would have happened.  How politically correct can you get?  Is that really necessary? [As if Annie is all that historical in the first place.]

But in 2013, all I could think was, I am so incredibly happy that my kids can look up on that stage and relate to one of the characters in a more tangible way.    

And they noticed.  Oh yes, they did notice.

I used to roll my eyes at this type of political correctness.  I was all about racial equality and I had friends from many different races.  I spent years growing up in Africa and my boss at my college job was African-American.  But the idea of sticking a non-white person into a TV show, book, or billboard (that wouldn’t otherwise have one) often seemed kind of forced, like the publisher or producer was saying, Look how inclusive we are!  Like they were going out of their way to be politically correct.  I couldn’t understand why it was such a big deal.

Then I adopted three African children, and everything I thought about race started to shift.  I started noticing when there were only white characters in children’s books, and gravitated towards the ones that had other skin colors.  I appreciated children’s TV programs that included other races.  I got irritated that standard band-aids are peach colored.

I know very well that there are African-American adults who don’t approve of white folks adopting dark-skinned children.   I am very self-conscious about this.  I could care less if there are white people who don’t approve of our inter-racial family.  Phooey on them.  But knowing that there are African-Americans who disapprove makes me insecure.

I have been the racial minority before; I know what that feels like.  I have been racially profiled and possibly even discriminated against because of my race.  But I have never, ever been oppressed because of my skin color, nor were my ancestors.  In fact, usually my race did the oppressing.

That is the one aspect where I can’t relate to my children.  And it is huge.  I know that’s why some African-American people don’t approve of our family, because will I really be able to prepare my children for this racial world they are entering?  And it does worry me, a little bit.

But let me say this.  I have never before been so motivated to try to understand the African-American perspective.  I am reading African history, African-American literature.  I am working to see the world through their eyes.  We are celebrating MLK in this family.  I want to know.  I want to understand.  I want to get it.

And isn’t that the pathway to racial reconciliation, anyway?  Understanding?  Valuing others as we value ourselves?  Getting why it’s so important to have an actress in Annie have dark skin?

There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

It’s easy for those of us on the non-oppressed side to think that everything is hunky-dory, maybe we even have a non-white friend, that we are not racist, so therefore we are fulfilling God’s ideal.  But are we really trying to understand those of other races?  Are we going out of our way to welcome them into our homes, our churches, our lives….to bring about true reconciliation?  

I am ashamed that it took me so long to get it.

My children gained a family when we adopted them.  But sometimes I think that I am gaining even more.

His love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me.

His love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me.  

This story started two years and four months ago.

When I first visited Forever Angels
orphanage to meet Lily, another story began.

I didn’t remember the names of all the kids I met that day,
but I remembered Zawadi.  Almost everyone
who meets her does.  Five years old at
the time, fluent in both English and Swahili, bright, amusing, and
affectionate, with an infectious joy despite her very difficult circumstances,
Zawadi is a child who makes an impression. 

Lily (age 2) and Zawadi  (age 5) at Forever Angels

And she was desperate for a family.  Zawadi saw child after child from Forever
Angels picked up by relatives or brought home by adoptive parents.  And she wanted a Mommy and Daddy too.  In fact, she would tell this to Amy H. (the
manager) quite often.  “When is my family
coming for me?  When do I get a Mommy and
Daddy?  Why does Lily get a family and
not me?  She is only two, and I am five.”

The truth is, Zawadi would have been selected for adoption
years ago, but she had an unusual family background that made social welfare
reluctant to release her for adoption. 
But finally, right around the time we picked up Lily, social welfare agreed:  Zawadi could be adopted.  She could finally get her family.  But would it be too late? 

We even considered Zawadi for our family, but eventually
knew that it was Lily that God had chosen for us. 

However, I talked about Zawadi whenever I talked about
Forever Angels.  And I remember clearly
when I told Lauren, one of my very best friends. 

It was on a Friday night, at Youth Group, and I had just
returned from my trip to meet Lily that afternoon. 
Lauren and I sat with our backs against the living room wall, a swirl of
teenagers laughing around us.  I told her
about Lily, about the orphanage, and about the other children, including
Zawadi.  About how she always asked Amy
for a family.

I had no idea that would be the seed. 

Lauren went home and looked up Zawadi on the Forever Angels
website.  She couldn’t get her out of her
mind.  She told her husband, Ben, about
her, and soon he also couldn’t stop thinking about her.  On Monday I got a text message from Lauren,
“Can we come talk to you sometime about the adoption process in Tanzania?”

Two years and four months ago, they started the adoption process in Tanzania.  

When you are in love with a child, and that child is desperate for a family, two years and four months is a very, very long time. 

In October of last year, they finally got to meet her.  They spent a glorious two days together.  They all fell in love.  Zawadi, being quite perceptive, figured out
that Ben and Lauren were her prospective parents.  And being the precocious child that she is,
and knowing how this process works, took it upon herself to sit down at the
computer and write her own letter to social welfare, print it, sign it, and
seal it in an envelope.  It reads, ““Ples
can loren and ben be my mom and dad.”

 It was at that point that I first posted about this story.  Back in October, we thought that it would be “any day now.”  But instead weeks and weeks went by which turned into months and months.

Instead of getting easier, Zawadi’s story got more and more complicated.  Harder.  Unprecedented among adoptions in  Tanzania.  Yet her need for a family never went away.

Many, many times, it seemed totally impossible.  I wept and wept with Lauren and prayed and begged God to help.  Even writing this now, the tears flow as I remember those times of utter despair.  

Finally, a few months ago, circumstances arose that meant that Zawadi would probably never be adopted, by anyone.  

That’s when Ben and Lauren took the craziest step of love ever, and declared that they would be willing to be long-term foster parents.  Long term, as in, Zawadi’s entire childhood.

People do that in America all the time, but this is Tanzania.  And they are American.  They knew the future would be uncertain and risky and there would be no guarantees.  

But they loved Zawadi with a crazy kind of love.  A never-stopping, never giving-up, always and forever love.  

Back in February, at our amazing spiritual retreat, Ben taught the students that song:

His love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me.  

During the past few days, those words keep running through my head.

Because two days ago, the day before school started, Ben and Lauren brought home this little girl.  

To love unconditionally, now and forever.  

I can’t stop smiling and I can’t stop crying.  

How they love her.

How He loves us.

There’s another story that has been unfolding ever since I went to meet Lily the very first time.  I haven’t been able to tell you about it.  I am dying to tell you about it; in fact, I wrote an entire post last week, and when I was done, I realized that it was too much information and I still can’t publish it.  Not yet. 

But I can tell you this: 

 

This little girl desperately wants a Mommy and Daddy.  She is almost seven years old, very smart, and knows all about adoption.

Our good friends desperately want to adopt her.  But this is a very tricky, complicated, unprecedented case.  And it all depends on the decision of one man, and he will be making that decision any day now.

This is her last chance.  If this does not work, she will permanently be transferred to another orphanage, which will be her home for the rest of her childhood. 

Many are praying and fasting on their behalf.  Please join us!