Last night my family went to the movies. Now, in interest of full disclosure, I'll let you know that I had planned to go with just my daughter to Mockingjay as sort of a girls' night out. However, since our sons had been asking to see Annie anyway, Jerome took them to the musical (there's irony in that) at the same theater.
Because I hate standing in last-minute lines for popcorn (and one has to buy popcorn), I asked Jerome to drop me off a little early so I could get the tickets and stand in line. After all, I love movies so much that I hate even missing the previews. Biruk and Tadesse went with me to help me carry the food and drinks and so they could spend a couple of their quarters on the video games before the movie started.
I stood in line and purchased the six drinks and two large popcorns. Then Tadesse and I managed to carry all the stuff over to the video game area where Biruk was playing. A little later, noticing that the one tray of food was in a precarious position, I asked Biruk to move it to a safer place. When he moved it, he spilled an entire glass of Sprite all over the floor. I was frustrated but didn't say much. Hoping for a little mercy from the concession stand worker, I stood in line for another. When I was almost to the front of the line, I glanced over at Tadesse, who was sitting on the bench next to the two popcorns and remaining beverages. One of the popcorns had tipped over all over the bench and floor. In a not-so-patient display of emotion, I rolled my eyes and said, "You have got to be kidding me" and heard a giggle from the person behind me in line.
So anyway, that's how my evening began, but I digress.
Mockingjay was wonderful, as expected, and my kids and husband seemed to enjoy Annie. Following the movie, we decided to stop quickly at Culver's because we hadn't eaten supper (not counting the 1 1/2 containers of popcorn). One of my sons wanted us to sit in a booth when a larger booth, built more for six, was open, so we sat at the larger booth instead. This particular son refused to sit with us the whole time we were eating supper, and he acted more as an eavesdropper to our conversation rather than a participant.
Jerome and I realized, then, (through our parenting extra-sensory perception) that the Annie movie hit closer to home than we had anticipated. This morning I will need to debrief with him. Friends, this is what you are unlikely to ever understand about adoption unless you have been through it yourself. We have become so much more adept at mind-reading and the little discussions we need to have with one another.
Today I need to tell my son this:
1. No one could legally take you away from me unless I did something so horrible as a mother than I was considered unsafe.
2. If someone would take you without my permission, I would search to the ends of the earth until I found you.
3. I do not get paid to take care of you like Miss Hannigan did. I get paid with kisses and hugs and tender smiles.
4. You are mine forever and I will love you forever.
Perhaps these sound like no-brainers, but adopted kids have a special set of insecurities that take years to heal, if they can ever be healed at all. Really, though, I'm not sure I'm all that different. Sometimes I question where I belong and how deeply I belong. Am I an add-on? Am I second choice? Am I important?
As Christians, we know that God debriefs us too, through the words of the Bible, to remind us that we are secure and forever His.
According to John 10:27-30, "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand. I and the Father are one."
Again, in Romans 8:38-39, we read this: "For I am convinced that neither life nor death, angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
For all those times when you are feeling alone or separate or unworthy, remember God's promises to us through Scripture, and parents, don't forget to tell your kids just how far you would go to protect them.
Lots of love to all of you, and have a merry Christmas.
Because I hate standing in last-minute lines for popcorn (and one has to buy popcorn), I asked Jerome to drop me off a little early so I could get the tickets and stand in line. After all, I love movies so much that I hate even missing the previews. Biruk and Tadesse went with me to help me carry the food and drinks and so they could spend a couple of their quarters on the video games before the movie started.
I stood in line and purchased the six drinks and two large popcorns. Then Tadesse and I managed to carry all the stuff over to the video game area where Biruk was playing. A little later, noticing that the one tray of food was in a precarious position, I asked Biruk to move it to a safer place. When he moved it, he spilled an entire glass of Sprite all over the floor. I was frustrated but didn't say much. Hoping for a little mercy from the concession stand worker, I stood in line for another. When I was almost to the front of the line, I glanced over at Tadesse, who was sitting on the bench next to the two popcorns and remaining beverages. One of the popcorns had tipped over all over the bench and floor. In a not-so-patient display of emotion, I rolled my eyes and said, "You have got to be kidding me" and heard a giggle from the person behind me in line.
So anyway, that's how my evening began, but I digress.
Mockingjay was wonderful, as expected, and my kids and husband seemed to enjoy Annie. Following the movie, we decided to stop quickly at Culver's because we hadn't eaten supper (not counting the 1 1/2 containers of popcorn). One of my sons wanted us to sit in a booth when a larger booth, built more for six, was open, so we sat at the larger booth instead. This particular son refused to sit with us the whole time we were eating supper, and he acted more as an eavesdropper to our conversation rather than a participant.
Jerome and I realized, then, (through our parenting extra-sensory perception) that the Annie movie hit closer to home than we had anticipated. This morning I will need to debrief with him. Friends, this is what you are unlikely to ever understand about adoption unless you have been through it yourself. We have become so much more adept at mind-reading and the little discussions we need to have with one another.
Today I need to tell my son this:
1. No one could legally take you away from me unless I did something so horrible as a mother than I was considered unsafe.
2. If someone would take you without my permission, I would search to the ends of the earth until I found you.
3. I do not get paid to take care of you like Miss Hannigan did. I get paid with kisses and hugs and tender smiles.
4. You are mine forever and I will love you forever.
Perhaps these sound like no-brainers, but adopted kids have a special set of insecurities that take years to heal, if they can ever be healed at all. Really, though, I'm not sure I'm all that different. Sometimes I question where I belong and how deeply I belong. Am I an add-on? Am I second choice? Am I important?
As Christians, we know that God debriefs us too, through the words of the Bible, to remind us that we are secure and forever His.
According to John 10:27-30, "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand. I and the Father are one."
Again, in Romans 8:38-39, we read this: "For I am convinced that neither life nor death, angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
For all those times when you are feeling alone or separate or unworthy, remember God's promises to us through Scripture, and parents, don't forget to tell your kids just how far you would go to protect them.
Lots of love to all of you, and have a merry Christmas.
