Spotlight Family: Knox family of GA
Category None
Bookmark :
The
China Team thanks the Knox family of Georgia for sharing their story!
We were a family of five when I felt God press upon my heart the idea that we had more than enough resources – emotionally, financially and physically – to bring another child into the fold. Our two sons (11 and 7 at the time) were somewhat hesitant but still excited about the idea of a new sibling. Our daughter, then 6, was especially eager to be a big sister. Leah had been adopted as an infant from South Korea and had grown tired of being the youngest, the only girl in a sea of Star Wars, and the lone brown child on the block. My husband, although enthusiastic about another child, had only one stipulation: no infants. Adopting another Asian daughter seemed a natural solution – surely there was a need to match our want.
We agreed on China and began the long paper route to parenthood for the fourth time. We studied Bethany’s COP list month after month, searching for the face that would complete our family portrait. We did our best to prepare our children for the coming changes. We read books on bonding and attachment with older children. We bought new furniture for the girls’ room. But mostly, we waited. We waited for a year.
Then one day, finally – I mean suddenly - she was there! A little five year old girl with Hepatitis B and bowed legs: our daughter, Sarah. She was (and still is) just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Obedient, polite and sweet as pie, we all lived “happily ever after.” Well, almost.
For the most part, adjusting to life with our “instant daughter” took very little effort. Sarah was lovable and loving. She was eager to learn and eager to please. We delighted in watching this child experience life – a real life - for the first time. There was a giddy sense of benevolence in our labors: we had changed the world by changing her world. Sarah embraced every new adventure she was offered, from language to food to American culture. If I squinted really hard, I might have thought she’d been with us all along.
I wish I could say that, as experienced parents and mature Christians, it was all easy. I wish I could say that, due to an overwhelming sense of gratitude for her new life, Sarah appreciated everything we did for her. The truth of it is that there were moments when I thought, perhaps, I’d made a mistake. I wondered if there was enough of me to give. I feared I may have wrecked the good thing we all had going.
Because, mixed in with all the good feelings, there was grief. Jealousy. Temper tantrums. There were heart aches I could never have foreseen, such as the rejection Sarah showed to her new sister because she didn’t see a need for a sister (she’d had 300 sisters in the orphanage), she just wanted a mother. Sarah’s insatiable need for affirmation of my love and her own self-worth awakened a sense of insecurity in my older daughter. Time and again, Sarah’s physical age belied the immaturity trapped within. She took on an air of self-entitlement and blustery bravado that wore on all of us.
Were the troubles really so big? I don’t know, certainly they were different than the ones we had anticipated. But after awhile it didn’t matter, because something happened.
It’s called Time. And it’s crazy, but the sheer passage of it is enough to heal wounds and form bonds. A little over a year has passed since Sarah joined our family. A busy year of “newness”…for her and for us. The best part of that year passing is, quite simply, it’s passing. Now we’ve done it all at least once together – the big things like birthdays and Christmas, sure. But also the little things like a game of Crazy Eights and sharing a bag of Skittles. To our delight, Sarah and Leah have found firm footing as sisters and often look to each other as playmates.
Oh, don’t get me wrong, we still have our bumps and there’s more up ahead for us - that’s just the nature of life, parenting, growing up. We’ve learned to accept, or at least to expect, the unexpected. In the more challenging moments, we remind ourselves that time is a trusted friend. That sacrifice, unconditional love and forgiveness is what this life is all about - this truly is Kingdom work, and can’t be entered into lightly. But as all parents know, the effort poured into these little people, whether adopted or biological, is worthy – so worthy! - of the endeavor. In fact, lately I’ve been noticing there are still two more unclaimed chairs around the dining table…
Bookmark :
We were a family of five when I felt God press upon my heart the idea that we had more than enough resources – emotionally, financially and physically – to bring another child into the fold. Our two sons (11 and 7 at the time) were somewhat hesitant but still excited about the idea of a new sibling. Our daughter, then 6, was especially eager to be a big sister. Leah had been adopted as an infant from South Korea and had grown tired of being the youngest, the only girl in a sea of Star Wars, and the lone brown child on the block. My husband, although enthusiastic about another child, had only one stipulation: no infants. Adopting another Asian daughter seemed a natural solution – surely there was a need to match our want.
We agreed on China and began the long paper route to parenthood for the fourth time. We studied Bethany’s COP list month after month, searching for the face that would complete our family portrait. We did our best to prepare our children for the coming changes. We read books on bonding and attachment with older children. We bought new furniture for the girls’ room. But mostly, we waited. We waited for a year.
Then one day, finally – I mean suddenly - she was there! A little five year old girl with Hepatitis B and bowed legs: our daughter, Sarah. She was (and still is) just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Obedient, polite and sweet as pie, we all lived “happily ever after.” Well, almost.
For the most part, adjusting to life with our “instant daughter” took very little effort. Sarah was lovable and loving. She was eager to learn and eager to please. We delighted in watching this child experience life – a real life - for the first time. There was a giddy sense of benevolence in our labors: we had changed the world by changing her world. Sarah embraced every new adventure she was offered, from language to food to American culture. If I squinted really hard, I might have thought she’d been with us all along.
I wish I could say that, as experienced parents and mature Christians, it was all easy. I wish I could say that, due to an overwhelming sense of gratitude for her new life, Sarah appreciated everything we did for her. The truth of it is that there were moments when I thought, perhaps, I’d made a mistake. I wondered if there was enough of me to give. I feared I may have wrecked the good thing we all had going.
Because, mixed in with all the good feelings, there was grief. Jealousy. Temper tantrums. There were heart aches I could never have foreseen, such as the rejection Sarah showed to her new sister because she didn’t see a need for a sister (she’d had 300 sisters in the orphanage), she just wanted a mother. Sarah’s insatiable need for affirmation of my love and her own self-worth awakened a sense of insecurity in my older daughter. Time and again, Sarah’s physical age belied the immaturity trapped within. She took on an air of self-entitlement and blustery bravado that wore on all of us.
Were the troubles really so big? I don’t know, certainly they were different than the ones we had anticipated. But after awhile it didn’t matter, because something happened.
It’s called Time. And it’s crazy, but the sheer passage of it is enough to heal wounds and form bonds. A little over a year has passed since Sarah joined our family. A busy year of “newness”…for her and for us. The best part of that year passing is, quite simply, it’s passing. Now we’ve done it all at least once together – the big things like birthdays and Christmas, sure. But also the little things like a game of Crazy Eights and sharing a bag of Skittles. To our delight, Sarah and Leah have found firm footing as sisters and often look to each other as playmates.
Oh, don’t get me wrong, we still have our bumps and there’s more up ahead for us - that’s just the nature of life, parenting, growing up. We’ve learned to accept, or at least to expect, the unexpected. In the more challenging moments, we remind ourselves that time is a trusted friend. That sacrifice, unconditional love and forgiveness is what this life is all about - this truly is Kingdom work, and can’t be entered into lightly. But as all parents know, the effort poured into these little people, whether adopted or biological, is worthy – so worthy! - of the endeavor. In fact, lately I’ve been noticing there are still two more unclaimed chairs around the dining table…

Comments