There is just something about this picture that makes my heart stand still. I could look at it for several minutes. It moves me.
My heart has been super emotional lately thinking about our son. There are definitely super sweet moments of joy as I think about finally bringing him home after 4 years in waiting. Finally holding his little hand. Finally introducing him to his brother and sisters. Finally teaching him to ride a bike and shoot a basketball. Getting to celebrate Easter and Christmas with him. And, then there are these super hard moment where I feel like I can't breath. These moments that are gripping. Moments that wake me up at night and don't allow me to go back to sleep. Moments that paralyze me on the floor of our bedroom closet. Let's just call these moments what they are...fear. The part of adoption that most people on the outside don't get to see. I'm gonna be completely honest with you, fear has gripped me in waves this entire adoption process. And lately, it's been worse than ever.
Can I really love this child as my own? Will he even like us? Is this going to turn my biological children's lives upside down? Am I gonna be exhausted emotionally and physically?
One of my dearest friends taught me at the very beginning of our adoption what to do when that fear creeps in. In those moments, I go back to the very beginning when God spoke into our hearts without a shadow of a doubt that He called us to adopt. That this was part of His plan for our family. And, I remember. I remember that He is in the midst of this. And, I learned from the start of my relationship with Jesus that He always desires the best for our life. And, He never ever deserts us and leaves us to figure it out on our own.
Will this be hard? Yes, but it will refine us and move us out of mediocrity. Can we love him as my own? Not without Jesus. Will this turn my biological children's lives upside down? Probably, but hopefully they will look more like Jesus in the end. Am I gonna be exhausted? Yes, but Jesus will be my strength.
We will be fine.
But, then I think about our son and the transition he will make and I completely come undone. Our son is 7. I have a daughter who is 7 (Hartlee). She is very aware of life and her surroundings. She loves her people, loves her life, and loves being home. She gets nervous with new surroundings. She doesn't like to leave her comfort zone. She still needs her mommy and daddy. She cries when she transitions into a new class at Sunday School. She thrives on routine and structure. Strangers make her more cautious and a little worried.
My son is about to be taken out of his comfort zone. Away from his people. Away from his country of birth. Away from everything. And introduced to two complete strangers he has never laid eyes on before who are now "Mom" and "Dad" and who aren't even the same skin color as him and don't even speak the same language. Welcome to the world of adoption.
Hartlee would freak out. I would freak out.
The crazy thing is, WE get called brave. We get called hero, rescuer, praised time and time again for our great deed, for our willingness to take a child into our home. I've heard comments like "You guys are so brave for adopting". I can't help but think about who the brave one really is.
Shane and I love the meaning of names. Cannon's name means "strong and courageous". Hartlee's means "full of heart". Sutherlin's middle name is Hope because the Lord taught us how to hope for God's best during the season I was pregnant with her.
We have decided to change our son's name. This has been a long and daunting process. Especially because this child has been called the same name for 7 years. But, I can't shake this word, this name, this identity the Lord has on his precious little life. I can't shake thinking about how much courage this will take.
In the Old Testament, the Bible talks about the "mighty men of valor".
Valor: meaning: Worthy. Brave.
Our son's name will be Valor.
He is definitely worthy.
He is undoubtedly brave.
We promise to love you well, you mighty man of Valor.