I hear a lot of ‘what ifs’ in the world of foster care and adoption. In fact, I lived in the ‘what ifs’ before we jumped headlong into an adoption that almost drowned me in fear.
What if the baby I am fostering goes back to the biological parents?
What if I have to give her back?
What if I adopt a child with severe behavioral issues?
What if this destroys my biological children?
What if the child I adopt can never live independently?
What if this is the worst decision I ever made?
What if this destroys my life?
It’s scary. I’ve been there in the ‘what ifs’. And I want to tell you about the death of my ‘what if’. It is not my proudest moment and I share this because I think it’s important in understanding how to let ‘what ifs’ die.
The very darkest moment of my life can be found in the bathroom of a hotel in Eastern Europe. I was curled in the fetal position on the floor at 2 am googling how to “return a child to the orphanage”. The child I had taken “rescued” from an orphanage just 10 hours earlier, had not stopped screaming and raging in the next room. It had been hours of primal shrieking and I could not imagine that I could do this. He was 4 years old, wore size 18-24 month clothing that hung on a skeletal frame and his spine threatened to escape his skin. He didn’t speak any intelligible words, he could only eat puréed foods or liquids (they are faster and more convenient) and he’d never spent time outside the four walls of the orphanage. We were told he was unable to be educated.
I am deeply ashamed that the fear of ‘what if’ had taken residence in my heart and I saw no way out.
What if he lived with me the rest of his life?
What if he remained a feral child who could not leave my home without him freaking out and crying?
What if he never attached to us and I spent the rest of my days diapering a screaming man-child?
What if he never learned to talk or eat?
In the other room was a 4 year-old, emaciated orphan who scared me to death. I believed on the deepest level that I had just ruined my life. I had done things in my life that required sacrifice, but those sacrifices were comfortable and measured. This…this just seemed like drowning and dear God, I was clinging to my fears. Fears are not buoyant and definitely not known to preserve life, yet here I was scrabbling for a handhold that would not be found in the murky waters I was treading.
I did not sleep that night and the next morning I went through the motions of diapering, feeding and faking mothering this child. His very pores smelled of orphanage and his yellowed teeth caused rank smells when he exhaled near my face. I dressed him in the adorable clothes I had packed and I still could not cover my fears. You see, my whole life I had the ability to cover fears and sacrifice on my terms. This was too much, I had gone too far.
Measured Sacrifice
I think that as Christians, we are very good at measuring the sacrifice. We apply logic and control to choices and operate out of unconscious fear.
How can we live a life that dares to make a difference if we are too scared to try? When Peter saw Jesus walking on the water, he asked if he could go to Him. Jesus said, come on…. and Peter walked to him and had an experience that changed his life. It is obvious that fear is a VERY REAL thing, but WHAT IF we dare to go out on the water anyway? When Jesus asked his disciples to leave all that they knew as fishermen, and follow Him, and he would make them fishers of men, I have to think fear was there. There must have been a few real moments where they looked at each other and asked WHAT IF… But they followed, and became friends with the creator of the universe. What if they had instead looked at Jesus and asked Him,
“What if you are not who you say you are?”
“What if things go poorly, and we lose everything?”
What if our families think we are crazy, and they mock us, and ridicule us?”
I cannot imagine how things would have been different for them.
Count the Cost
What if the baby I am fostering goes back to the biological parents?
What if I have to give her back?
What if I adopt a child with severe behavioral issues?
What if this destroys my biological children?
What if the child I adopt can never live independently?
I know all of these WHAT IFs, and they are very real fears.
What if this is the worst decision I ever made? 24. “He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” ~ Mark 4:39-40
I brought my WHAT IF home and this process of adoption absolutely destroyed my life. I can look back and see how I needed to have vain conceit, selfish ambitions and countless fears destroyed. I can look back and be humbled by a woman who lay on a bathroom floor begging God to see me out of this decision. And I can see how He sat beside me as I let go of all the things that I thought gave my life meaning, worth and control. But the most beautiful part is what we find after we have gone beyond the WHAT IFs. At the end of myself, I have found HIM.
First moment in the sunshine, newly arrived home.