Tag: Adoption Page 9 of 23

Do you remember the story of Zawadi?  Click the link, if you never read it.  And even if you did, read it again, because it’s a pretty cool story.

Zawadi has been home for almost a year now, but it happened shortly after we left for the States, so we never got to get to know her and we never got to celebrate with Ben and Lauren.

So it’s pretty amazing and wonderful and awesome that now she’s at my table, and playing with my children.  Her parents are some of our best friends, so the kids will practically be raised as cousins.

We’re pretty happy about that.

How many times can you adopt a child?

Apparently, quite a few.

Adoption #1 was in Tanzania.  We worked for a year each on those ones, with multiple court hearings for each child that required two-hour long trips into town, usually to find that the judge had not actually shown up that day.

Adoption #2 wasn’t technically an adoption, but the process to get our kids their U.S. citizenship required even more paperwork and waiting and money than Adoption #1.

Recently we found out that even though our kids have their U.S. citizenship and their U.S. passports, that if we wanted them to have U.S. birth certificates, that we would have to adopt them again, this time in the United States.

So….we adopted them….again.  Hence, the picture above is from Adoption #3, which just happened last week.

Sometimes adoption feels like you just want to open up your bank account, your important family documents, and every last detail about your lives, and say to whoever is asking, “Go ahead, just take what you want.  Please just leave me some dignity in the end.”

And then, in the middle of the night, your little boy whispers, “I love you, Mommy.”

And you know you would do it as many times as it takes.

Sometimes I am bewildered.

In the past number of weeks, I have read a number of articles that seem to be distinctly anti-adoption.  Have you sensed this too?

There was a really long one about this terrible underground world of “re-homing” difficult adopted children–usually those adopted internationally.

There was the one about how most orphans are not really orphans because their parents have died, but placed in orphanages due to poverty.

There also was the one I have seen a few different times, about how evangelicals are apparently to blame for all of the abuses in international adoption, because of their fervor to adopt orphans.  (Oh, those nasty evangelicals….how could they do such a thing?)  That article was written by an author who has written an entire book on the subject.

Tomorrow is Orphan Sunday, the day when thousands of evangelical churches will be emphasizing orphan care.

How dare they?

Seriously, I am bewildered.  Since when did adoption become a bad thing?

I am not an expert.  I do not know very much about adoption in countries other than Tanzania and Ethiopia.  But I have a few thoughts on this.

Like every other system in the world, adoption has been tainted by sin.  It’s a good thing–a great thing–but there are still people in that system who are corrupt and will use it for their own gain.  This does not mean we throw out  the system….or blame the people who want to adopt the children!  And there are many wonderful organizations out there who are working hard to make sure this corruption is kept at bay.  For our Ethiopia adoption, our agency sends out a private investigator to create a video record of the background of each and every child it places for adoption.  We can have absolute assurance that everything has been done to research these children.  There is always risk, but there are ways to keep it to a minimum.

Let’s talk about those poverty orphans.  I think somehow we envision the poor, starving, weeping mother handing her baby over to an orphanage worker, while the orphanage greedily accepts the baby and shoves the mother out into the cold.

Have we ever stopped to think about the fact that most babies placed for adoption in America could be considered “poverty orphans?”  Yet do we wring our hands about this and discourage couples from applying to adopt them?

Of course, any mother or father who desires to keep their child should be given every opportunity to do so.  Absolutely.  No question.  Shame on the orphanages who discourage this.  I know they exist, but that does not mean that we deem the whole system corrupt.

Poverty is complex.  Money alone does not solve poverty.  Just like in America, poverty in the third world often includes all kinds of other problems:  addictions, family breakdown, abuse.  In America, a mother may relinquish her child for adoption even though she loves that child.  She wants the child to have a better life than what she can offer him.  Can’t an African mother do the same?

There is no easy answer.  It is complex.

Or what about the reality that in some countries, many true orphans end up in relatives’ homes where they are treated as second-class citizens?  Where they are given food and shelter, but become the house servant?  Is it better for such a child to stay with her family, or go to an orphanage?

I think that a problem with Americans in general–not just evangelicals–is that they like a quick fix and an easy answer.  In reality, it’s never like that.  Which is why orphan care and poverty alleviation need to be long-term and relationship-based and gospel-centered–because that, of course, is the ultimate solution.

But let’s just step back and say for a minute that we’ll only consider true orphans for adoption.  Okay.  What about them?

What about those that were abandoned in fields or down outhouse pits?

What about those who live in countries ravaged by so much AIDS that there are not enough adults to go around?

What about those girls from countries where female babies are thrown away like trash?

What about the special needs children living in ill-equipped orphanages around the world?

These types of children still exist.  In droves.  What happens to them?

Yes, we need to work to change cultural attitudes towards girls.  Yes, we need to help prevent the spread of AIDS.  Yes, we need to help governments to value special needs children.  But in the meantime?

Apparently, someone other than evangelicals need to advocate for their adoption.

So.  Here are my conclusions as we celebrate Orphan Sunday:

As I have written and continue to write on this blog, strive to help and not hurt when you consider poverty alleviation.  Let’s not fixate on orphanages just because they give us the warm fuzzies.  If you volunteer at an orphanage or financially support one, ask good questions.  Do they strive for family reunification whenever possible?  Where does their funding come from?  Are they involving the local community and local church in their decisions?

Sponsor a child.  Lots of good things come from this, and many times kids get to stay with their families when they otherwise wouldn’t be able to.  But not all organizations are alike, so ask good questions in these cases as well.  Don’t choose one based on TV commercials.  Do your homework.

And above all, please don’t give up on international adoption!  It’s gotten harder, all over the world, and I’m sure that’s related to the negative press.  But there are still millions of children all over the world who need a family!  And if you don’t feel called to it yourself, then look for ways you can support people who do.  The adoption process can be really hard, and sometimes it can be even harder to raise an adopted child, depending on the circumstances.  The Church needs to get behind these families in better and more tangible ways.

Don’t be afraid, my friends, to advocate for adoption.  And my fellow over-zealous evangelicals–I count myself as one of you.  Yes, be careful.  Ask good questions.  Don’t look for quick fixes.  But don’t stop advocating for the orphan!

Evangelicals, keep at it.  I’m proud to be one of you.

*Note added in 2016:  Though I stand behind a lot of what I wrote here, my eyes have been opened to the reality of the corruption involved in international adoption.  Please click hereto read what I discovered.

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.