I could never do that.
I could never adopt.
I could never foster.
I could never have more than two kids.
I could never adopt multiple children.
I could never afford adoption.
I could never say yes to a child with special needs.
I could never bear my child needing surgery.
I could never parent a child with complex medical needs.
I could never go through that emotional process again.
I could never endure waiting for my child while they linger in an orphanage across the globe.
I am afraid that I could never love an adopted child as much as I love our biological children.
Your family is just so beautiful, but I could never do what you’ve done.
We adoptive parents hear it all the time. We hear it from other parents at school parties, on the playground, at the Target check out, or from dear friends being vulnerable. And we respond as best we can, with a smile. Sometimes we respond with perfect gumption and eloquence and other times we fumble for the words to match our conviction.
But here is what we want to say.
Here is how the response dialogue plays out in the car as we drive away.
We say, “Exactly.”
We know our own weakness.
We know our own fears.
We know our own lack.
We know the crazy that our homes already possess.
We know that when deciding to say yes, we almost said no.
We know that we too could never do any of it in our own strength. But we put ourselves into the position to watch God come through. We bought front row seats to watch Him show Himself mighty. And though we may be weary from the journey we’ve said yes to, we stand gratefully in awe.
We want you to know that God has come through for us. That, in each of our families, he’s shown up and shown off in a million big and little ways. In the middle of any part of it that has been hard, we’ve seen provision and we’ve been carried through. And in the end, we’ve been changed and we’ve been blessed.
We know that we’ve stepped off the normal road and voluntarily added lots of crazy and some incredible stretching into our lives. We know that it would’ve been easier not to. Safer.
But we’ve decided to shift our focus from us and what we can do over to God and what He can do.
So, new friend in the Target check-out line, or old friend across the restaurant table, if you’re asking about our family because you’ve felt the nudging to adopt or foster, we urge you to consider a shift in perspective. Don’t see messy us. See all powerful God.
Don’t sit on the sidelines. Buy a ticket on the front row. There’s plenty of room.
“But God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through.” ― Francis Chan, Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God