After being home for four months, we are just now beginning to get into a routine of family life -- school and school work, chores, family meals, devotions, and family time to name a few. It seems the self-regulating is a little better – the kids are a little more able to eat at mealtimes rather than snacking heavily throughout the day, go to sleep at a reasonable bed time, and fill up their free time with more than just you tube Ukrainian TV and music. Viktor just finished the fall season of soccer, and watching him goof off and high five his teammates makes us very happy. Tanya needs a little more of a social outlet which we have not yet come up with, although she had no lack of friends at her 14th birthday party 2 weekends ago.
Viktor seems happy at home, especially now that we have acknowledged that he can smoke and we will still love him (although he knows how much we do not like it). In public Viktor still tends to keep a good amount of distance from us, and often will wander away, promising to come find us in “5 or 10 minutes,” and then finally reunite with us when it is time to leave. It hurts us to see that in public he doesn’t seem attached or bonded to us, maybe even embarrassed of us, but at least at home he is playful, affectionate, mostly helpful, and good-natured.
Tanya seems happier at home, too, but she seems to teeter between solemnity and silliness. It seems any little smell, word, picture, or thought can trigger an immediate response and send her in a downward, depressed spiral. Some of that is probably 14 year old girl hormones, but another part is being a girl with a difficult past, trying to fit into a new culture, family, and lifestyle and probably feeling like she doesn’t belong anywhere. We are able to get her out of these down times, but it takes much effort and time and can be emotionally exhausting for Scott and me.
The toll this has taken on our younger biological children will probably not be fully realized until they are adults and are in counseling of their own. Two evenings ago, Mary pulled me aside and said, “Mommy, I’m having a really hard time since Tanya and Viktor have been here. You only spend time with them and you never play with me anymore.” There was truth to that statement, which heaped guilt on my already heavy heart, and I stood amazed that my 5 year old could verbalize this to me. Making a conscious effort to spend individual time with each child is something Scott and I must work on, and probably use trial and error to see how this will work with our unique family dynamics.
Lately I have felt very alone. It is not because I do not have an incredibly supportive extended family or church family. It is not because I am not around my large family and children most of my waking hours. It is not because I do not have wonderful friends that I could call in a heartbeat if I had a minute to myself. It is not because I have not had quality time with the Lord each day. It is not because I do not have a wonderful, supportive husband. Ironically, I think it is because there is very little time for me to get away to be alone, or have coffee with a girlfriend, or have a guilt-free, bother-free date with my husband, or a carefree play date with friends and their kids.
Most of our energy, emotional and physical, goes to Tanya and Viktor. There is just no way around it. While we were in the process of doing paperwork and all the waiting that is involved in an international adoption, we talked about this and tried to tell ourselves that our younger four would not suffer, that we would make sure they had what they needed in terms of attention and love and affection. But intentions and reality are two different things. There is only so much energy one has in a day, and when it is spent, it is spent. I am begging God for the grace for my children to be okay, despite the toll this is taking on them.
For us there is no turning back now. This is what we signed up for. At the same time, if I said we never had regrets or guilt or fear or turmoil I would be a big fat liar. We have to keep reminding ourselves of what God has called us to, how directly he spoke to us about this, and stand firm in his promises that he will never leave us, and that he is indeed a good God who would not call us to something and then pat us on the back and tell us, “Good luck with that.”
The gospel is alive and well in our home. To be on the giving end of grace is a difficult task, but it makes realizing how we are on the receiving end of God’s grace that much sweeter. Daily we must offer and receive forgiveness from each other and our children, and attempt to model that to them as well. It is exhausting to forgive someone who is not the least bit sorry or grateful. It is exhausting to love the way God calls us to, loving even our enemies (which often live under our same roof). But then we go back to the ocean of God’s love, which He has been showing to me anew, and we dive in and attempt to pierce the depths of it, but we barely end up skimming the surface of His love for us, and we fill up on it and let it be the source for our impossible task of loving well those in our immediate circle. And resting in Him we find a little solace.
Viktor seems happy at home, especially now that we have acknowledged that he can smoke and we will still love him (although he knows how much we do not like it). In public Viktor still tends to keep a good amount of distance from us, and often will wander away, promising to come find us in “5 or 10 minutes,” and then finally reunite with us when it is time to leave. It hurts us to see that in public he doesn’t seem attached or bonded to us, maybe even embarrassed of us, but at least at home he is playful, affectionate, mostly helpful, and good-natured.
Tanya seems happier at home, too, but she seems to teeter between solemnity and silliness. It seems any little smell, word, picture, or thought can trigger an immediate response and send her in a downward, depressed spiral. Some of that is probably 14 year old girl hormones, but another part is being a girl with a difficult past, trying to fit into a new culture, family, and lifestyle and probably feeling like she doesn’t belong anywhere. We are able to get her out of these down times, but it takes much effort and time and can be emotionally exhausting for Scott and me.
The toll this has taken on our younger biological children will probably not be fully realized until they are adults and are in counseling of their own. Two evenings ago, Mary pulled me aside and said, “Mommy, I’m having a really hard time since Tanya and Viktor have been here. You only spend time with them and you never play with me anymore.” There was truth to that statement, which heaped guilt on my already heavy heart, and I stood amazed that my 5 year old could verbalize this to me. Making a conscious effort to spend individual time with each child is something Scott and I must work on, and probably use trial and error to see how this will work with our unique family dynamics.
Lately I have felt very alone. It is not because I do not have an incredibly supportive extended family or church family. It is not because I am not around my large family and children most of my waking hours. It is not because I do not have wonderful friends that I could call in a heartbeat if I had a minute to myself. It is not because I have not had quality time with the Lord each day. It is not because I do not have a wonderful, supportive husband. Ironically, I think it is because there is very little time for me to get away to be alone, or have coffee with a girlfriend, or have a guilt-free, bother-free date with my husband, or a carefree play date with friends and their kids.
Most of our energy, emotional and physical, goes to Tanya and Viktor. There is just no way around it. While we were in the process of doing paperwork and all the waiting that is involved in an international adoption, we talked about this and tried to tell ourselves that our younger four would not suffer, that we would make sure they had what they needed in terms of attention and love and affection. But intentions and reality are two different things. There is only so much energy one has in a day, and when it is spent, it is spent. I am begging God for the grace for my children to be okay, despite the toll this is taking on them.
For us there is no turning back now. This is what we signed up for. At the same time, if I said we never had regrets or guilt or fear or turmoil I would be a big fat liar. We have to keep reminding ourselves of what God has called us to, how directly he spoke to us about this, and stand firm in his promises that he will never leave us, and that he is indeed a good God who would not call us to something and then pat us on the back and tell us, “Good luck with that.”
The gospel is alive and well in our home. To be on the giving end of grace is a difficult task, but it makes realizing how we are on the receiving end of God’s grace that much sweeter. Daily we must offer and receive forgiveness from each other and our children, and attempt to model that to them as well. It is exhausting to forgive someone who is not the least bit sorry or grateful. It is exhausting to love the way God calls us to, loving even our enemies (which often live under our same roof). But then we go back to the ocean of God’s love, which He has been showing to me anew, and we dive in and attempt to pierce the depths of it, but we barely end up skimming the surface of His love for us, and we fill up on it and let it be the source for our impossible task of loving well those in our immediate circle. And resting in Him we find a little solace.