Alaska Archives - Page 22 of 24

a path which few can tell

Posted on October 18, 2014 by ShannonMarch 12, 2026

She says, “I ya you, mama,” and I’m not sure if she means it, or if she even knows what it means yet, but she hears it from us and feels safe to repeat it back, finally. It has taken two years.

And him…he waves. He smiles. I give him thumbs-up, and he gives thumbs-up back, instead of any equivalent to the middle finger, which is what we’re used to. He also has recently started saying “I love you” – and it was heart-meltingly sweet at first, but then we realized that aggressive or defiant behavior follows it every time. Now, it just puts us on alert.

So there is progress, but we are hard to please because we want it to be faster than two steps forward, 1.9 steps back. We are past the stage of not recognizing our home anymore, but not yet to the point of getting to go out of the house for dates yet. I have vague memories about our life before adoption, including certain things that made it possible for us to leave the house without children. Maybe you’ve heard of them – I think they’re called “babysitters?” – but I don’t think they exist anymore.

Yes, it’s still hard around here. But most days, we see light at the end of the tunnel and we’re pretty confident that it’s not an oncoming freight train. We’re starting to make headway, and the emotional trauma involved in fighting our childrens’ past no longer slays me like it used to. This was not always the case.

So Perseus started on his journey…and away through the moors and fens, day and night toward the bleak north-west, turning neither to the right hand nor the left, till he came to the Unshapen Land, and the place which has no name.

And seven days he walked through it, on a path which few can tell; for those who go there again in dreams are glad enough when they awake; till he came to the edge of the everlasting night, where the air was full of feathers, and the soil was hard with ice; and there at last he found the three Gray Sisters, by the shore of the freezing sea, nodding upon a white log of drift-wood, beneath the cold white winter moon; and they chanted a low song together, “Why the old times were better than the new.”

There was no living thing around them, not a fly, not a moss upon the rocks.

– Charles Kingsley, The Heroes

The journey often feels like the place which has no name.

A dear friend of mine said this:

I told my husband just yesterday, “Adoption is the loneliest thing you will ever do,” and I wondered out loud why would God call people to adopt if it only leaves them feeling alone and isolated….an island in a world that pays little attention…and he said, “It is not God’s will that we are alone…it is a heart condition of our society.”

And I agree with both of them. I don’t think it’s an intentional heart condition, but an undiagnosed heart condition, made possible by the combination of decades of misinformation via the media, and a shallow culture that is discomfited by those who get their hands dirty because it threatens to mess up the manicures of the elite.

Deep breath. All this, with a broken coffee pot. I guess we should be grateful that this wasn’t a caffeinated post.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.

– 2 Corinthians 1:3-

But friends, post-adoption depression…it’s real, and serious. It’s a different beast than post-partum or any other depression, and it comes with a myriad of its own mutilated griefs, but they’re all spawn of the same ugly monster. Life doesn’t go on hold for families who bring hurting children into their homes, and in many cases, they deal with drama and attack from several directions outside the home as well. If you know an adoptive/foster family, or a special needs family, or a family who falls into both categories (and many do) – for the love of all that is holy, pray for them.

If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.

– 2 Corinthians 1:6-7

Jesus, we pray for your peace and patience and wisdom in homes that need you utterly right now. Adoptive families, special needs families, foster families, blended families, grieving families – come over each of them with Your Spirit, and flood their homes with peace and joy, unity and healing, that makes the enemy flee.

You have great days ahead for us. Your plans are good. You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make all things new.

The Unshapen Land…it’s not a place we linger or stay, but it has lessons to teach for those who trod the bleak path there. They come out wiser and well-armed to slay the monster, and finish the task before them.

________
This story is now told in Risk the Ocean: An Adoptive Mom’s Memoir of Sinking and Sanctification.

battleground

Posted on October 9, 2014 by ShannonJuly 9, 2020

*This is an excerpt from Oh My Soul: Encountering God in Honest, Unconventional (and Sometimes Messy) Prayer, available on Amazon and everywhere books are sold.

_____

You’ve probably seen the headlines, too. They’ve been pretty much the same for the past several weeks, only louder, larger, and more looming.

Ebola. ISIS. Spongy borders. Other illnesses. Other enemies.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

– Ephesians 6:12-13, ESV

Sometimes it’s all I can do just to keep our kids from throwing things at each other; I really have a hard time wrapping my mind around the bigger, broader issues outside my door. And I feel guilty, even, for praying for what seem to be comparatively small needs in our home when there are immensely huge things happening out there. It feels like we have to choose, and it feels urgent, and what if something tragic is happening to issue B while I’m still praying over issue A?

That’s just me. You are probably far more calm and level-headed about all this.

But I find myself slipping into this anxiety over prayer – which is really ridiculous, since that is the opposite of what prayer really does – and it takes me a while to realize that it’s just another slimy ploy of the enemy to make what is productive and powerful seem burdensome and impotent.

And that’s a lie.

Like most lies, and like most doubts, it is a half-truth. It’s true that terrible things are happening all over the world and we can’t possibly pray over all of them at once with the proper urgency to pick them all off one at a time, as though we were playing some sort of spiritual Galaga or whack-a-mole.

But God is not limited to our time frame, either. Otherwise, He would be limited to making us take our turns so he could listen and respond to us one at a time, which sorta defeats the point of praying without ceasing.

If you picture Time as a straight line along which we have to travel, then you must picture God as the whole page on which the line is drawn. We come to the parts of the line one by one: we have to leave A behind before we get to B, and cannot reach C until we leave B behind. God, from above or outside or all round, contains the whole line, and sees it all.

– C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

The enemy is a liar who is afraid of God’s people praying. He will do whatever he can to convince us not to do it, which is a very good reason to do it without ceasing.

And this isn’t neat and pretty – I’ve been sick for eight days and have strict orders to get to bed before, oh, 2 am tonight – but there’s one more thing I want to share before I go there, before we wake up to more headlines in the morning, before we feel overwhelmed by the struggle. It’s from the story of Perseus in Greek mythology (and if you have qualms about studying ancient myths, please consider this and this), when he was first given a glimpse of the calling on his life, before he saved lives and slew monsters:

But to the souls of fire I give more fire, and to those who are manful I give a might more than a man’s. These are the heroes, the sons of the Immortals, who are blest, but not like the souls of clay. For I drive them forth by strange paths, Perseus, that they may fight the Titans and the monsters, the enemies of Gods and men.

– Charles Kingsley, The Heroes

Oddly, I feel that it is for us, too. We are the children of God, we are the blest, we are the souls of fire. We are those who do not shrink back.

Lord, our country is in dire need of You tonight. Give our leaders wisdom and repentance; make them go back and regain ground lost due to foolishness and error; we pray for the safety of towns and cities and homes on our borders. We pray for healing for the sick and peace for the scared. We pray for health and joy in our families and protection over our churches.

Our nations are at a pivotal moment, and your prayers – for small things, for big things – make a difference. He hears and moves because your prayer is powerful and productive. Keep going, and pray from victory, not fear. Years from now, we will look back on these days and know that we saved lives and slew monsters through relentless intercession.