People often ask me what I love most about being a dad and I guess the response will be different depending on what has happened that day. Yet there is one thing that makes me smile without fail…it happened just a few hours ago.
I have class every Thursday (I’m finishing my Masters of Arts in Ministry Leadership at George Fox Seminary) and I am blessed to have in-laws that will watch Asher so I can go to class. Today I also had an afternoon meeting after class so I was going to be gone extra long. My in-laws had a prior engagement later in the day and so they dropped Asher off at our friend’s house where I was to pick him up after my meeting. So after a long day of class and a great meeting I walked through the door of my friend’s house and called out “Hello?” Somewhere in the distance I hear a little voice start to babble and slowly get more and more excited, and as I walked around the corner and looked at Asher he started clapping his hands while saying “Dadadada.” There is something about knowing you are needed that warms the heart. In the case of an adopted child this type of reaction is even more significant.
One of the main emotional concerns with children of international adoption is what experts call Reactive Attachment Disorder or RAD (Great, now I bet you’re totally thinking back to the 1980s cult classic about BMX biking). RAD stems from the failure to create normal attachment to primary caregivers in the infant stages of life. On the surface this may not seem like such a dire strait but the effects can be severe. What is feared most in this situation is that the child displays extremely inappropriate relational behaviors which can involve haphazard or excessive attempts to receive affection from any available adult. It can also manifest in a child’s extreme unwillingness to accept comfort from a parent or a move to deep isolation.
So, when Asher looks at me, gets excited, claps his hands and calls me dada I melt because I know he sees me in a different light from all the other people around him (besides his mom of course). He looks at me and somewhere inside he knows that I will meet his needs and that he can trust me to be there. The expectations that come with that are of course daunting, but the coupled excitement that comes from those expectations make me crawl out of bed each morning, grab my coffee, walk into Asher’s room and say “Good morning.” to an amazing blessing.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The Chain
So I was on my way home from the grocery store the other night and I found myself tearing up to a song on the radio. There are a couple things that make this situation a little odd. 1) I’m not a crier. I have nothing against criers. In fact I wish I was more emotional the simple fact is you’ll rarely see me tear up. 2) I was listening to a country station. Now I know not everyone has the sophistication it takes to listen to the heartfelt songs pouring forth from these country bumpkins but I find I relate to this genre, whatever that says about me. So there I am a mile from my house tears rolling down my cheeks and asking "What in the world is triggering this?!” The song on the radio was Zac Brown Band’s Highway 20 Ride. The basic premise of the song is the story of a divorced father who makes a trip each week on Highway 20 to pick up his son and spend time with him. The line that got me going is this:
“A day might come and you'll realize that if you could see through my eyes There was no other way to work it out And a part of you might hate me But son please don't mistake me For a man that didn’t care at all.”
In a time when 50% of marriages fail, I have been blessed with a family that has stayed together despite tough times. But there is something deeper in those lyrics that brought out my emotions. It’s the idea that good or bad we pass on our “stuff” to our children. Some call this family of origin issues, some call it generational sin, but whatever you call it, the fact is, we either continue to add links to the family chain of dysfunction or we break that chain and offer our children freedom from those bonds.
There are things my family has given me that I cherish, there are things I wish were not there and this is a truth of any family. Whether the good outweighs the bad or vice versa we would all do well to ask ourselves the question “What are we passing on to our children?” As we ask this question and the answers start coming I hope we commit to break the chains that foster dysfunction, strengthen the chains that foster health and pray for grace in the times that we will fail.
I’ve included a link to Highway 20 Ride for those of you brave enough to listen :-)
“A day might come and you'll realize that if you could see through my eyes There was no other way to work it out And a part of you might hate me But son please don't mistake me For a man that didn’t care at all.”
In a time when 50% of marriages fail, I have been blessed with a family that has stayed together despite tough times. But there is something deeper in those lyrics that brought out my emotions. It’s the idea that good or bad we pass on our “stuff” to our children. Some call this family of origin issues, some call it generational sin, but whatever you call it, the fact is, we either continue to add links to the family chain of dysfunction or we break that chain and offer our children freedom from those bonds.
There are things my family has given me that I cherish, there are things I wish were not there and this is a truth of any family. Whether the good outweighs the bad or vice versa we would all do well to ask ourselves the question “What are we passing on to our children?” As we ask this question and the answers start coming I hope we commit to break the chains that foster dysfunction, strengthen the chains that foster health and pray for grace in the times that we will fail.
I’ve included a link to Highway 20 Ride for those of you brave enough to listen :-)
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