As a person who was mal-nurished in an orphanage and then adopted by two Christians, I feel that my soul can connect with all the adoptees who resemble my seemingly odd beginnings.
No one dreams of being put into care and then “cared” for by people who would treat you so poorly. Christians who adopt children often miss the mark. In the process of “Saving” them, they often kill their soul. Many strip them of their culture, language and even race. Too many are “happy” that they are finally forgetting their birth language and assimilating into the new culture instead of encouraging them to stay connected to what wove them together in the womb.
As I cried about another adoptee’s death, I realized that too many adoptive parents believe that adoption is God’s plan or that God has a “new” plan for this little human who was in need of saving.
But too often we see this tragedy and though people are affected for a few days, they move on with life, forgetting that the real tragedy in it all was believing these children needed to be saved in the first place.
It comes down to so many different forms of death. As adoption gives life to the adoptive parent, it often murders the adoptee.
I can’t talk about the death of adoptees who were entrusted to strangers (especially Christians) without talking about God, Jesus, and what God and Jesus are not.
I was raised in a home that simulated a cult. We had things we had to do, ways we had to pray, things we had to say during prayer, and then there was always the need to be grateful, thankful and appreciative to people we never chose as our parents and can’t link biologically.
“Biology does not make a family, love does,” was what I heard every day from the age of about three. But I always wondered then, where was the love? I seldom saw it. I never felt it, and as a matter of fact, I thought love meant that people could do anything they wanted with me; to my mind, my body, my heart. I thought that love meant I belonged to someone, not with someone.
They were chosen for us with the hope that they would protect us. Often however, adoption is worse than staying in an orphanage. At least at the orphanage you are surrounded by your own people, by familiar faces, and voices. And like in my case, my mother visited me. She loved me. That love does not just “stop” because you are in an orphanage.
Adoption is a temporary solution to a very big problem.
And because it is a temporary solution to a very big problem, adoptees become the victims of so much abuse once they leave the place in which they may feel “at home”. Adoptees too often are just products. Our pictures show up in catalogs or “Wednesday’s Child. ” We appear on facebook pages to be re-homed because we could not fit into the new lifestyle. We are advertised at church, like a give-away drive or an auction.
We are objects that can be picked up, handled, touched, pushed, kicked, spat on, sexually abused, pushed around, drowned, stabbed, punched, rolled, displayed, envied, sold, and sold again, and sold one more time.
We are people that should be loved, and cared for, and treasured, and respected, and educated, and appreciated, and honored.
We are people and other people forget that we were:
Purchased but priceless.
Loved but not in love.
Stolen with the possibility of being returned.
Hugged with enough room to breathe.
Given up but not forgotten.
Appreciated with no strings attached.
Left for dead but given the tools for survival.
Rescued but not saved.
Vulnerable but not stupid.
Freedbut in a corral.
Adoptees are so many things, we are so complex and we can’t be shoved into a box, buried in a ditch and left to die. Though our bodies may be mangled and lifeless, our souls are connected.
When one adoptee dies:
There are too many adoptee deaths to even list in this blog. The deaths are not always by adoptive parents or society. A number of adoptees have freed themselves of their suffering. After being deported, adoptees have chosen freedom.
But there are way too many adoptees whose lives are in the hands of people who are supposed to care for them. Adoptees borrow us and hope and trust that we will raise them to be the best people they can possibly be and this includes making sure they are ready to return to who they were born to sooner than later.
Adoptees like myself grow up confused and wondering what we did that deserved the treatment we received at the hands of Christians.
God is NOT for separating families. God is 100% for keeping families together. Take care of the orphan AND the widow and this does not mean take the child and leave the family. This is a mandate to care for them together. But what benefit does an adoptive parent have if they are forced to adopt the widow too? There is no ownership and there is no feeling of raising the child as their own if the mother or father is part of the transaction.
If Jesus is truly the Son of God, and paid the ultimate price for our salvation, wouldn’t you think Christians should stop trying to “save” the world? If salvation already has been granted, a temporary rescue is all it takes to change the life of a person.
Salvation is no longer necessary.
Too often in adoption, Christians want to save children, but they are already saved. Why not rescue and reunite? Why not strengthen families? Why not keep families together?
I have an inkling that adoption never really was about the adoptee but instead about the one adopting.
And because this very well may be the case, it is possible that this is the reason all adoptees are connected. We may not have the same exact experience, but we all may feel that a bit of help on our biological side may have allowed us to be less disconnected.
When one adoptee suffers, every adoptee feels it and in turn, suffers. Sometimes we suffer in silence, and in other times our suffering is so big, so strong and so important that even the rocks cry out.