A different point of view

Our family has gone through some big changes in the past few days that have brought on some stress and chaos....not that our lives aren't always full of stress and chaos, but this time is different. 

Since God lead us to adopt 3 years ago, our family has been in a constant state of chaos - hence the name of this blog.  Adding 4 people into a famiy all at once is not going to happen without some stress, and we were prepared for that.  However, when one of those four new people is extremely challenging, your view of what "normal" feels like begins to shift.  Although you can tell that your life is not like 'most people's lives', you're not able to really define how different it is.....it's the whole seeing the forest for the trees thing.  It feels so overwhemling that stepping back and looking at what's going on with a new perspective seems almost impossible. 

Yet, that is what we've been challenged to do over this past month.  What we had intended for our family of 7 and what we were stubbornly determined to make happen was getting further and further from reality.  We began to see that no matter what we changed, the end result was going in a completely different direction. 

So, I began to pray and ask some sweet, faith-filled friends to pray with me, that I would be able to 'see' the situation through different eyes.  Instead of viewing what was happening in our family from my perspective....as Christian mommy, hopeful caregiver, adoptive mom, determined-to-make-it-work adult, educated woman, family-oriented person.....I needed to look at our situation from Mr. Adventure's point of view.  That meant learning to look at life as an anxiety-filled 8 yr old boy, a child who had been hurt and abandoned by this birth mom, a child without the ability to bond, a child who believes anyone who is 'family' is likely to hurt him, a child who constantly feels like he doesn't fit in, a child who knows he makes bad choices but still chooses to make them, a child who sees his biological siblings blending into a family that he doesn't want to be in, a child who is struggling at school, a child who deserves a chance to heal from his past. 

As I prayed for the ability to shift my perspective, I saw our family differently.  I saw that Mr. Adventure usually sits on the sidelines of activities we do as a group.  I saw that he's always watching to see if an adult will see his next move.  I saw his choices to jump from 2nd story windows as the deperation he felt to find a place where he fit in.  I noticed his lack of bond or emotional attachment with not only me and My Hero, but also with all four of his siblings.  I realized that they feel completely different toward him than he does toward them and that it likely is very uncomfortable for him.  I started to understand that the never-ending expectation that people in a family love each other and enjoy being together made him miserable because he couldn't feel those things.

What a different world a loving, fun-filled, active family is when you see it from his point of view!

Condescending?

con·de·scend·ing/ˌkändəˈsendiNG/Adjective

1. Acting in a way that betrays a feeling of patronizing superiority.

2. (of an action) Demonstrating such an attitude

This weekend, I was told that something I said "came across somewhat condescending".  My first response was just to clarify what I was intending and move on (this all happened via a social networking site, and the tone behind written words is easily misunderstood).  But, the more I think about it, the more it bothers me.

The main thing that bothers me about it is that what I actually said would be almost impossible to take in a negative way.  Someone I knew was upset about something, so I stated that it made me sad to hear they felt that way.  To me, that seems like a normal human emotion...to feel sadness when others are sad.  I also knew a little of this person's history, which added to me being genuinely upset that their situation was not going well.  It was also odd to me that my comment was taken negatively, when many other comments were very directly opposing her opinion and plans, but they were met with lighthearted conversation. 

Knowing that, it appears to me that the only way my comment could have felt condescending to this person would be based on her perception of me.  Or her perception of my perception of her.  Or something.  

This revelation got me thinking.  What could have caused that person to see me that way?  Was there some history of me acting superior toward them or anyone else?  Does my life appear better than theirs?  Is my attitude one of criticizing others?  Is it that they just don't like me?

In this specific situation, there is actually a history of me reaching out to this person when they were feeling isolated during a very difficult situation.  My last encounter with this person was almost a year ago and centered around me asking her for advice/information about a medical procedure that I was going through.  Right before that, she had babysat my child and we talked extensively about some things going on with her that I thought we connected through. 

Yet, despite our history (or maybe because of it), my comment definitely hit a nerve and was met with defensiveness.  What I really want to understand is if any of this perception is shared by others.

I am completely certain that the friends that I spend time with would never consider anything I said to be condescending.  They know my outlook on life.  They have spent time really getting to know my family.  They have shared my darkest times and supported me the whole way.  They know that this year has been the hardest I've ever had as a mom.  They pray for me and love me unconditionally, not just when my opinion matches theirs or when my life makes them feel better about theirs.  Instead of assuming my life is something it's not, they call me or come visit.  They put some effort into knowing who I am.  I am so thankful to have those friends in my life. 

But what about everyone else, and does that even matter?  I've always been very open and honest about my situation and my struggles.  I am not one to plaster it all over my facebook page, but I don't pretend to be someone I'm not.  Seeing a photo of all my kids smiling doesn't mean that I am the perfect mom to perfect kids.  Watching us walk into church or sit down at a restaurant together doesn't show you what my life it like.  All it shows you is that my kids can sit quietly for an hour...that's it.  It means nothing about my attitude toward others.

I am also not someone who is going to make all my conversations about poor little me.  I am thankful that God has given me the desire to look for the good and focus on glorifying Him.  My story is unique and even though it is not ideal in my eyes, it is not my job to take away the glory that He deserves by complaining.  How does that make me condescending?

So what can I do to glorify the Lord in my situation?  Do I make every bad moment public so that others can see how we come through it in the end?  Should I focus on the horribly negative interactions that I have with my family so that others feel better about their parenting skills?  Do I withdraw from those who criticize me or do I work to correct their misperceptions?  What would offer God the most praise through my situation?

Another friend of mine likes to say that our Mess is our Message and our Tests are our Testimony.  I believe that.  I know that the way that I handle stress and disappointment in my life will either point those watching me toward or away from God.  But, it seems like that is most important with the non-believers that I'm witnessing to.  Is it important for me to always let my worst moments be known to everyone I encounter?  Should I accept that fellow believers in my life are going to be critical of me no matter how little information they have about my situation?

It's also interesting to me that this blog is full of stories about my disaster of a life and my failures as a mom.  I'm not hiding it.  I'm not misleading anyone.  I am incredibly sad and completely brokenhearted that anyone who knows anything about me would assume the worst about my intentions.

To be condescending by definition assumes an attitude of superiority.  I am so far from feeling superior to anyone!  I would guess that my interactions with my adoptive kids are so much worst than anyone I know.  I am regularly humiliated in public by Mr. Adventure's rages.  I have stood by as others see my kids cry and wonder why I'm not comforting them because they don't understand the situation.  I have been investigated by the school and our adoption agency over false accusations.  I have held back tears as other parents ask me why my kid ran away and had to be picked up by the police.  I've had to answer questions from other kids at school about where my son was during the week he spent at the mental institution.  I have been told by countless doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, social workers, and other professionals to practice bonding exercises with my son, yet nothing has worked.  I've been crushed by my biological daughter looking at me with tears in her eyes and telling me that it scares her when I am so angry at one of her siblings.  Believe me, God has made me painfully aware of the flaws in my life, and I am under no misperception that I am better than anyone. 


With that being said, anyone who assumes that something I say is meant condescendingly doesn't know me at all.

No Guarantees

Being an adoptive mom is difficult.  It isn't always fun or rewarding.  Learning to parent children with extreme backgrounds and histories is tough. Really tough.  I've had my share of days that seem like they will never end.  Days that drain every ounce of energy out of me and reveal a side of me that I wish didn't exist. 

For me, being an adoptive mom is very different than being mom to my biological daughter.  I understand her.  Her reactions to situations make perfect sense to me.  I know what to say and do to comfort her.  She completely trusts in my love for her.  We've still had days where we don't exactly mesh.  But few things in my life bring me more happiness than my relationship with her.  I am also extremely aware of the blessing that it is to feel that way. 

Parenting my adoptive kids, on the other hand, almost never comes easily.  Knowing how to handle their reactions, feelings, comments, and moods is so hard.  And I'm not very good at it.  I try to not make the same mistakes too many times, but even the new strategies that I attempt tend to flop on a regular basis.  It is a rare occasion for me to get through a whole day without at least one huge failure with at least one kid.  Very. Rare. As in, it's maybe happened twice in the 3 years since I've been their mom. 

I keep hoping that things will get easier or that I'll get better at this whole mothering thing.  I couldn't imagine even attempting this without the Lord's help.  It's during the most difficult moments that I try to force myself to remember that He brought these kids to me for a specific reason.  And by try, I mean that I usually lose sight of the bigger picture until after the fact. 

I also remind myself that He has not promised me success in this situation.  He has not promised that I'll be able to be a wonderful mom or that I'll even know what I'm doing as a mom.  When God asked us to adopt, it didn't come with a guarantee that my kids will be so thankful for our decision.  I wasn't promised that my life will be without challenges or struggles after we adopt.  I wasn't even promised that I'll ever see anything positive come from this situation.....that's a hard one to accept. 

I am only promised that same things that God promises to all of us in His Word.  That obedience to the Lord pleases Him.  That He will use all things to work for His good (not that I'll see the good in this lifetime).  That His plan is perfect and that I'll likely never understand it.  And that above all else, the point of all of this is for His Glory.