I recently came across something I had never thought of before.  It's obvious enough, but not being musically inclined it had simply never occured to me. 

In a sermon by N.T. Wright, he points out that when it comes to singing we can only sing one part at a time.  No matter our vocal range, regardless of whether we are a tenor or bass, baritone or alto; we can only sing one part at a time.  As a result, we must each be willing to contribute our voice and sing our part in order to create a beautiful harmony.

As I thought about this it occurred to me that the adoption journey is similar in many ways.  Whether you are a father, a mother or eagerly waiting, whether you are a son, a daughter or a grandparent, whatever the case may be . . . your life, and the story that God is writing with your life, is but one thread.  It's your part, but alone it cannot make a 'harmony' - or as we like to think of it, a tapestry.  In that sense, no adoption story consists of a single thread.  Only as God takes many threads and weaves them together with great care do we more fully see His grace and redemptive plan beautifully displayed through the miracle of adoption.  And this transforming reality is certainly not limited to our physical adoption journeys.

This issue of the Tapestry Newsletter features four inspiring stories, each highlighting how a 'yielded thread' in the hands of our gracious God can be woven into a beautiful expression of His redemptive love.  We hope you enjoy and are blessed.

Click here to view past Tapestry Newsletters.

One of the most profound days of our lives had finally arrived. It was August 9, 2004. We were pacing the floor of our hotel room in Nanchang, China, nervously awaiting the arrival of our soon-to-be daughter, Mia Joy.

Will she look anything like she appeared in her six-month referral photo? I wondered, realizing that Mia was now 15 months old. Will she bond with both David and me? What will her little personality be like? Will she be healthy?

We had prepared for this day for roughly 13 months…divulging to the U.S. and Chinese governments virtually everything about us, spending numerous hours with a social worker, getting our finances in order.

We had joined 10 other U.S. families whose daughters were from the same orphanage in Jiangxi. Great anticipation filled the air as we met on Gloria Plaza Hotel’s ninth floor. One by one, our Chinese guide called out the baby’s Chinese name, and she was presented to her new family. Soon, it was our turn.

“Cen Ye Feng,” he announced, and we quickly stepped forward to receive one of the greatest blessings known to humanity: flesh and blood, a soul capable of—and longing for—affection. God knew long before Mia was born that we would become a “forever family.”

When she left the familiar arms of her nanny, Mia clung to me, crying. Her eyes look scared (and so did mine!). Though underweight, she appeared healthy—and quickly Mia proved that she was a strong little girl with a flair for drama. We vowed to raise her to the best of our ability. 

Read more . . .

In a bible study, I came across this sentence, “…a precious little stranger wondrously comprised of the two of them.” The precious little stranger is a new born child in the hands of his or her biological parents. My first thought was I can’t relate or that excludes me from the moment. But it so happens, that after some thought I can relate.

I looked back at our videos from our trip to Vietnam, and I see a different Elise. When placed in my arms for the first time, she was “a precious little stranger wondrously comprised of the two of them (her birth parents).” 

Read more . . .

We moved into our current home about two years ago. As with any previously owned home, there were a few not so welcome surprises. Those were easily overcome, however, by the beautiful landscaping, in particular the well planned and maintained backyard garden that we inherited with our new home.

Surrounding our stone pool deck is a lovely haven of green boasting an array of interesting flowering plants and trees. From the four varieties of roses to the multitude of crape myrtles, lilies and blooming hedges, color graces our little backyard retreat virtually year round. While maintaining our backyard garden requires some effort, we humbly admit that most of it existed long before we claimed it as “ours.”  

As the seasons change we love the new surprises that bloom to seemingly greet us – lovely things we did not plant and therefore are delighted to discover. Having moved in October, we were completely unaware of the multitude of lilies that were lying dormant below the surface until they bloomed into full color in the spring. There is a daisy bush in one corner that grows wildly green all summer and then explodes with yellow flowers in late summer and early fall. We even discovered a pomegranate growing on a three foot tall tree! And so, throughout the year we reap the benefit and enjoy the pleasure of our backyard garden. 

Read more . . .

I can vividly remember the moment that I saw my oldest son for the first time. I’m not talking about the day I first laid eyes on him when he was only 18 days old, or the next day when we brought him home, changing our lives forever. I’m talking instead about that cool November afternoon, nearly two years from the day we first met, when I began to look beyond all of my assumptions and even hopes and dreams concerning my son, and caught my first glimpse of the ‘real’ him. That was the first time I believe I truly met my son, as I started to let go of who I thought he was and would become and began to fully embrace the adventure of discovering who God had uniquely made him to be. 

Not Made in My Image

No two adoption journeys are exactly the same, but many adoptive fathers encounter similar questions and challenges as we grow into our role. So much of an adoptive parent’s experience is identical to that of any other parent. And yet, adoption offers a few ‘extras’ that come with parenting a child that claims so much of us but does not share our genetic fingerprint.

For some adoptive parents, maybe especially adoptive dads, one such ‘extra’ is the temptation to assume or even secretly desire that our children – especially sons – will grow to resemble and reflect us in many different ways. We dream that they will share our same likes and dislikes, our same habits and traits, even our same quirks and mannerisms. In some ways we dream that our kids will be a “mini-me” of sorts – a scaled down version of ourselves. 

Read more . . .