My journey toward an adoption mindset started a long time ago, but I didn’t realize it until I watched Hotel Rwanda.
I’d heard about adoption often. My friend told me that I should read Adopted for Life by Russell D. Moore, and asked me to help her brainstorm about how to begin a foundation that might be able to help families afford the cost of adoption. Another friend had a heart to work with orphans in third-world countries. A couple in my church, after years of infertility, successfully adopted an adorable little girl. Some friends of ours adopted multiple times from all over the world, combining a family of children with Asian, African, Hispanic, and Caucasian roots. My work at a crisis pregnancy center put me into contact with adoption agencies in the area, since adoption is a beautiful (and often undervalued) option for women facing unplanned pregnancies.
I had always considered adoption a wonderful thing, but it didn’t personally impact me until about a year ago.
Having written about how to confront someone lovingly, I feel it is important to add a postscript to the discussion, and that is: It is not our job to change the other person. It's simply our job to communicate with the other person. Change is up to God.
Over and over, I see people (particularly women) reinterpret the idea of lovingly confronting someone into subtly manipulating someone to change. Let me explain how this works, and why it can be a relationship-killer.
I am a perfectionist. And, as a perfectionist, I often fall into the trap of believing that what I do or what I give must be perfect--or very close to perfect--before it is of any value.
If I give of my time to someone, I want to be able to give a lot of it; what good is a half-hour?
If I write a book or a story or a blog post or a poem, I want every word to be in place before I share it; what can someone gain from an imperfect thought?
If I write a letter, it must be an "epic tome"; who would be encouraged by a short note?
None of my life has gone the way it was "supposed to go," but I don't love my life any less because of the hardships and new directions. I see so much unexpected good in it, and I want others to see the good in theirs.