Who Am I? Adoptive and Foster Parents Can Help Kids With Identity Issues

Who am I? This is the subconscious source of anxiety for many adopted and foster kids, no matter our age.

I don’t know of one adopted or foster kid that hasn’t asked that question. Should I identify with my birth or adoptive parents, or both?

What if one of them rejects me?

Here is the unshakeable identity I found along my journey. I long to share it with you. Please copy and share with as many people as possible.Identity with Jesus5

 

My Christmas Gift for You!

Everyone who knows me, knows that I have trouble waiting for the proper time to give gifts. I just can’t wait.

That’s how I feel about my gift to you this Christmas.

I made this with you in mind. I thought you might enjoy as you draw closer to God, not only during the Christmas season, but in every season of life.

Feel free to make as many copies as you want….and share!

One Adoptee’s Grief Dolly

An Adoptee’s Grief Dolly

When my dad died nearly 20 years ago, I couldn’t bear to get rid of the things from his house. The fine furniture he tried to refinish at retirement. The white leather  golf bag stuffed with every club conceivable. The framed photo of him and Mom from the bank where he worked for a lifetime.

Bob’s parents were very generous and let me house all of the furniture in their barn.

One time, my sister-in-law Mary was looking and found a dolly from my childhood. She was somewhere in my grief pile in the barn. I imagine her turquoise dress was covered with barn dust and bird droppings.

To Mary, she saw something else as she secretly took dooly home and went to a doll doctor, got her fixed, and then made a dress for her.

One Christmas, we opened the front door and there was Mary and daughter Julia with dolly all restored and dressed in a new red-checkered dress and red-polkadot ribbon. Her cheeks were as rosy as ever.

Suddenly, an object from my grief pile connected me to the warm memories of growing up at 609 S. Oakland Street, St. John’s, Michigan. The Christmas trees with snowball colored lights and gobs of foil icecicles adorning the branches.

Something lost became found and restored.

Restored by someone I love.

My reaction to grief has always been to get everything out of my sight that reminds me of painful loss.

After all, when I can’t see it, the grief will go away, right?

Ya, right.

I will always miss Dad.

He is the one God chose to be my dad from eternity past.

Was he perfect?

No….none can claim that.

After the last few months of searching for my biological father and finding such negative results, I am even more thankful that my life has been touched by adoption.

Grief and loss are what God delights to redeem.

He has done that for me multiple times, but today He did it with my childhood dolly dressed in a red-checkered dress, rosy cheeks, and black painted-on patten leather shoes.

What precious thing can you pull from your grief barn this Thanksgiving and Christmas?

I doubt its a dolly like mine, but something absolutely unique. That’s how God works.