How Adoption Changed My Life

Who knew that something so beautiful could be so difficult? Adoption led me to a season of surrender, hurting, and healing, but most importantly, a place of grace and perception.

Soon after my fourteenth birthday, my family invited a young boy who had been struggling in his original, adopted home to come live with us. Adopted from Ethiopia at the age of 10, Elias arrived in Texas, only to be sent to my family in Kentucky one year later. Being the oldest child and only girl in my family with three younger brothers, I figured another brother would be a breeze. With exceptionally supportive parents, I assumed that any and all difficulties would be handled. I imagined this was going to be an adventure, an exciting new page in my story. However,

Helping Elias to read proved difficult. I was determined to show him something different from his past experiences. Praying for fortitude, I challenged his stubborn attitude with compassion. At times it seemed grim and hopeless. Honestly, there were times I felt defeated in my efforts because I could see no evidence of improvement. My unenthusiastic kindness was showing little progress. Yet over several months and lots of patience, he made significant advancements in reading. While he learned to read, I learned patience. To my surprise, I secretly began to enjoy my new role. Seeing his improvement gave me unexpected pleasure. He began to trust me despite his resistance. No longer was I the unwanted older sister; I was a teacher and a friend. Despite annoyances and difficulties, we also became brother and sister.

Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, he had to leave us. This left me not only fighting emotions of sorrow and grief but also with a sense of hope. I was an influence on him as he learned to trust and learned to read. I also became a safe place to open his hurts so healing could begin. It was a privilege to wrestle with him through some bleak and painful