Already one month has passed since the trip. In some ways it's been an easy month, as I've parented through new eyes, and in other ways it's been difficult, particularly when trying to reconcile the current living conditions of the child we left overseas with our affluent lifestyle. Knowing she'll soon be under our roof brings us hope regarding her well-being, but our new understanding of the disparity between the U.S. and her post-communist country is the gnawing kind. There is so much going on in our minds and hearts as far as what God wants us to do with this new-to-us information that there isn't much more to say about it at the moment.
What I can say with confidence is that when followers of Jesus set out to adopt internationally, particularly from a very dark place, all hell breaks loose. I detest empty cliches, but this is one that I can back up with our experiences since committing to our new daughter. Ephesians 6:12 says " For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." If you are not yet a follower of Christ, this may sound ridiculous to you. There is one who wants it to seem ridiculous so that you don't realize what is going on when you are overcome by fear, sin, or any of your other weaknesses. He is called by many names in the Bible, but the most pertinent to me of late have been "adversary" and "father of lies." He is the enemy of God and of everyone who advances His Kingdom, and because he knows that he is fighting a losing war, no tactic is too desperate or low for him.
You may remember back in June 2013 when we committed on paper to adopt our girl, I shared here that I was overcome in those critical decision days by a spirit of fear like none I had experienced (and I was quite the fearful child, so I have had some experience with this feeling.) Never in my adult life, since walking closely with the LORD, had I felt such a crushing, terrifying weight of fear on my soul. I could hear the audible whispers of the enemy in my mind: "She's not your problem. Leave her there. Just return the file, move on, and pretend this never happened. You're in over your head. You won't be able to handle her. She's too retarded, too disabled, too much of a burden for you. Leave her there." After much prayer, including asking for and receiving confirmation from God that He was indeed telling us to move forward bold and confident in adopting this child, we committed; and the lifting of the burden was instantaneous. As soon as the enemy knew that battle was lost, he retreated, moved on, and waited for another opportune moment.
You may remember back in June 2013 when we committed on paper to adopt our girl, I shared here that I was overcome in those critical decision days by a spirit of fear like none I had experienced (and I was quite the fearful child, so I have had some experience with this feeling.) Never in my adult life, since walking closely with the LORD, had I felt such a crushing, terrifying weight of fear on my soul. I could hear the audible whispers of the enemy in my mind: "She's not your problem. Leave her there. Just return the file, move on, and pretend this never happened. You're in over your head. You won't be able to handle her. She's too retarded, too disabled, too much of a burden for you. Leave her there." After much prayer, including asking for and receiving confirmation from God that He was indeed telling us to move forward bold and confident in adopting this child, we committed; and the lifting of the burden was instantaneous. As soon as the enemy knew that battle was lost, he retreated, moved on, and waited for another opportune moment.
The opportune moment came 8 months later in Atlanta as we hustled to our gate to catch our overnight flight across the Atlantic. Just typing these words is making my heart race as I return to the moment of this attack. The entire day had gone smoothly, including everything from saying an anticlimactic goodbye to the children to enjoying our first flight. I remember the moment the doors to the "plane train" in Atlanta opened and we entered a car that was empty except for one man. We smiled at him, though he did not smile at us, and we rode until the stop for our terminal. He exited at the same stop. I remember he seemed a little lost and asked someone for directions while Mason confidently led us to our gate (he's so good at that). We took a quick restroom stop, dashed out just in time for the boarding call for Air France, and then got in line to board. As I looked around at our fellow passengers, I noticed the same man from the subway. This is very difficult to explain, but when I looked at him this time I was overcome with an immense weight of dread. He suddenly appeared to be in great turmoil, raking his fingers through his hair and fumbling with his passport, nervously patting his one black rolling suitcase and looking as if he was under a great deal of stress. I was sure at the moment, irrational as it sounds, that getting on this airplane was a death wish. I voiced my concern to Mason. (The enemy tends not to attack Mason in this way because he only fights battles he has a chance at winning, and Mason is not easily panicked or made anxious. Our adversary knows his opponents well.) Mason took one look at me, then one look at the man, and knew that something was going on - with me, not with the man. I feel certain that Mason saw something completely different when he looked at that passenger. At that time, however, I felt 100% sure that this man was going to blow up our airplane. Looking back, this was quite an unforgettable lesson in the importance of not trusting my feelings. I wanted nothing more than to alert the Air France attendant to a potential terrorist situation and bolt away from the gate. Thank the LORD, I did not do that, but as I handed my passport to the attendant I fully believed I was going to die on that flight. It didn't get any better as we made our way onto the plane. The man ended up directly behind me in line. He sat a handful of rows in front of us, in perfect view of my seat, so I could see his every move. He carefully searched for a good place to put his one black carry-on, but seemed unsatisfied with his options. All this time I was watching his every move like a hawk and narrating to Mason what he was doing. At one point he walked towards the front of the plane with his bag as if he was going to get off the plane. Mason actually asked me if I wanted to get off the plane! I think I told him multiple times to please pray, please pray for me, and he did, but he also had no idea the duress that I was experiencing. At that moment, in our final few minutes of cell phone service before crossing the Atlantic, I texted two key people: 1) my dad - without wanting to share the details, I asked him to pray for my peace, and 2) my dear dear friend Jacque (I don't think she will mind me sharing her name with you). I did text her the specific details, because that is just the kind of friendship I am blessed to have with her. She is an amazing pray-er who has taught me much about how to pray.
What happened next changed the game. God is so amazing to send His Spirit, our Encourager, when we need Him most. She texted back with this: "the Holy Spirit had already told me to pray for you in this way, and now you are confirming it." Game changer. The moment I was reminded that God, Father to the fatherless, Creator of us all, was already working on my behalf to encourage me through this panic attack and get me across the ocean to our little girl, His little girl, I knew victory was mine in Christ. That was one of the most important text messages of my entire life. (Another one would have been about 3 days prior when Mason texted me that he got approval at work for us to go on this trip!) Mason prayed with me more and we took off. I still felt nervous about the man, and I still saw him doing suspicious things that made me tense, but I knew my God was fighting for me and that He had brought me onto this plane. One by one, the lies started to fall off of the table, lies that sounded suspiciously like the ones I had heard over the summer, except more desperate and far-fetched sounding: "You are going to die on this flight. You will leave all three of your children at home as orphans. You will not live to adopt Kamelia." These gave way to the promises of God, one of which was actually printed on Mason's sweatshirt - the words of Jesus: "I will not leave you as orphans, I will come to you," and "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion." Recounting it now brings to mind Exodus 14:13-14, when Moses said to the Israelites leaving Egypt these words that the LORD gave him: “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today...The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
Really, God was fighting for Kami that day. This intense, paralyzing, terrifying panic attack was the enemy's last-ditch effort to keep this mother from getting to her child. He had tried once months ago and failed, and he wasn't going to give up without trying again. You see, the adversary did not want us to set foot in that orphanage in that economically and spiritually depressed town or to cover it in prayer. He did not want us to speak the Name of Jesus in the halls, and he most certainly did not want Kami to hear it and be released from the bondage that a life of neglect has imposed on her. He fought us tooth and nail with good reason... but if God is for us, who can be against us?
I carefully submitted this to God before choosing to share. I chose to publish it because I have desired from the start that this page would be a place for truth and encouragement. There is no room for pride or trying to maintain a false image. I want my friends who are considering adoption, or who maybe are at a decision point right now, to enter into the battle prepared. It's really not charity. It really is war.
What happened next changed the game. God is so amazing to send His Spirit, our Encourager, when we need Him most. She texted back with this: "the Holy Spirit had already told me to pray for you in this way, and now you are confirming it." Game changer. The moment I was reminded that God, Father to the fatherless, Creator of us all, was already working on my behalf to encourage me through this panic attack and get me across the ocean to our little girl, His little girl, I knew victory was mine in Christ. That was one of the most important text messages of my entire life. (Another one would have been about 3 days prior when Mason texted me that he got approval at work for us to go on this trip!) Mason prayed with me more and we took off. I still felt nervous about the man, and I still saw him doing suspicious things that made me tense, but I knew my God was fighting for me and that He had brought me onto this plane. One by one, the lies started to fall off of the table, lies that sounded suspiciously like the ones I had heard over the summer, except more desperate and far-fetched sounding: "You are going to die on this flight. You will leave all three of your children at home as orphans. You will not live to adopt Kamelia." These gave way to the promises of God, one of which was actually printed on Mason's sweatshirt - the words of Jesus: "I will not leave you as orphans, I will come to you," and "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion." Recounting it now brings to mind Exodus 14:13-14, when Moses said to the Israelites leaving Egypt these words that the LORD gave him: “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today...The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
Really, God was fighting for Kami that day. This intense, paralyzing, terrifying panic attack was the enemy's last-ditch effort to keep this mother from getting to her child. He had tried once months ago and failed, and he wasn't going to give up without trying again. You see, the adversary did not want us to set foot in that orphanage in that economically and spiritually depressed town or to cover it in prayer. He did not want us to speak the Name of Jesus in the halls, and he most certainly did not want Kami to hear it and be released from the bondage that a life of neglect has imposed on her. He fought us tooth and nail with good reason... but if God is for us, who can be against us?
I carefully submitted this to God before choosing to share. I chose to publish it because I have desired from the start that this page would be a place for truth and encouragement. There is no room for pride or trying to maintain a false image. I want my friends who are considering adoption, or who maybe are at a decision point right now, to enter into the battle prepared. It's really not charity. It really is war.
2 comments:
When adoption is right, it's right. My birth mother wanted to keep me, but her parents wouldn't let her. She told nurses in the hospital that she wouldn't sign the papers unless she could hold me first (which just DIDN'T happen in 1973). She held me and heard a voice telling her "she's not yours to keep."
My parents had been trying to adopt for some time and were about to give up when their bishop told them he felt they should try again. Shortly after that they received the phone call saying the adoption agency had a baby that they believed should be placed in their home.
God will help you get Kamelia if that is His desire, which you feel it is. It won't be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is. The adversary will definitely test you even more through this process, but if you continue to put your faith in God and follow His will, you will win the war with God's help.
Holly, that is an amazing story, thanks for sharing it with me!
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