That's all we have in the adoption process. Communication. Without it, adoptions go nowhere.
We have been in a time of complete silence. Despite people's promises to communicate with us, we are hearing a deafening nothing. Not even a "we haven't forgotten you" email. Nothing. Even when I have messaged them. Nothing. Not even a "we wish we had something to tell you". NOTHING.
We've cried over this as a family. We pray over this daily. Our hearts are broken. We are beginning to have conversations about how our family will move on if nothing ever happens. And we are devastated.
We feel forgotten and yet we can't forget our girl who is so completely knit into our family.
Humbly we ask you to pray with us...for a word, any word...from someone, anyone...
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Over the holidays Nathan began to announce that he wants to be Santa when he grows up. And he was dead serious about this. (I think the idea of being able to eat a bunch of treats to get fat really appeals to him.)
At one point, while we were spending time with a bunch of family, he was being challenged on this and he turned to me and asked if Santa could be brown.
"Sure he can."
Cue some eye rolling and a comment on how kids are coddled into thinking they can do anything, even when we know they can't.
Look, I get it and in fact agree that we as parents often aren't doing our kids any favors today when we give them trophies when they've done nothing to achieve them and continually tell them that they are so special when really all that tends to do is make them think that they don't need to work hard for anything because they are special and deserve advantages that others don't.
But that wasn't what this was about.
Nate was sitting in a room surrounded by only white people. Nate had been watching one Christmas movie after another, reading one Christmas book after another...all with only images of white people. And he was just trying to figure out where he fits in all of this.
The reality is that even my white son has a slim chance at being Santa one day. And the harsh reality is that there may in fact be things that Nathan may not be able to do because of his color. But he is six and it was Christmas Eve and he wants to be Santa and there was no way in hell that I was going to tell him that it wasn't going to happen because he is black.
And I feel quite certain that in that moment, it was the most loving thing that I could have done for him as his mom.