The Decade of Daniel

Can I tell you about our first hours together?  I knew - the minute I held that boy - he was mine.  The Mama bear in me didn't waste any time to jump out of my own unprepared skin and take hold of a sick and feverish child that needed so much more than love alone.  Jim and I gradually nursed him back to health in his birth country,  not knowing that the repair of his heart condition would ultimately take him from us in short time on our home soil.  Those rosy cheeks,  his milky white skin,  his cherry lips,  his Elmo-ish voice - Lord,  thank you for the most precious gift.  And now,  it hits me...how can ten years have possibly passed since we held that boy for the last time?  I just don't know...

What I do know is that we can't rewrite the story.  We can't go back in time - ten years ago - and change our choices about Daniel's heart surgery and how his life ended here on earth.  Lord,  if we could,  I promise I would be so much smarter.  I would have known so much more.  I would have researched more...

I would have,
I would have,
I would have.

But - regretfully - I can't change it now.

.

Jesus has now been holding him for 120 months when we only held him for just over 120 days. Sometimes my brain screams silently in the agony that few understand, and sometimes the joyful beat of his heart is so loud and clear in my brain that it completely overtakes my sorrow.  It's all just so complex...some days tear me apart,  but then most days I find a way to look at the blessings and celebrate the fact that we were - we were able to spend a birthday together,  a Valentine's Day together,  an Easter together, a Mother's Day together.  And I delight in awe that he was born on February 2nd - 40 days after Christmas, on the Candlemas or the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus Christ,  and then he died was born into eternal life on the Holy Trinity - the Feast day honoring the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  It felt like a great big holy God-hug saying "I've got him!"  I trust the Lord with all my heart, and I know we did what we thought was best at the time - that I loved with all I had  was enough.  I think of Daniel's first mother, and I feel the sting of tears.  Does she wonder where he is in the world?   Will she ever know he's safe with Jesus?

 

Since then,  I've looked to mentor devastated mamas who walk the same painful path.  It surely takes one to know one when it comes to child loss,  and adoption adds an extra layer of hard when you've survived the palpable pains of an adoption process with all the red tape and approvals and paperwork and waits and obstacles.  It seems so unfair to trek all that way across the globe and then lose everything just four months later.  But, yet, we haven't really lost, have we?  Ten years into this newly-paved road of emotional twists and turns,  I know, without doubt,  I'm changed for the better.  I'm richer in spirit and clothed in humility;  my tested and seasoned soul so much wiser.  Compassion lives in me so boldly for God's most vulnerable.  It's like part of Daniel's soul somehow melded  into mine;  like all of who he was,  is now living in me.

While we can't rewrite his story,  what we can do is keep writing the story God made for His purpose.  The beauty from ashes is evident in three more children home after Daniel.  Each additional gift from God is a sweet reminder of him and they know his name - they know his face.  We always have five children even when the headcount is four.  Ignorance is such bliss, isn't it?  If we had only known that four months after meeting our son,  we'd be laying him to eternal rest,  I'm not sure we would have been brave enough to say yes to bringing home our beautiful son.  It pains me to say that,  but it's truth.  We weren't heroes - we were just ordinary people who wanted to be obedient to God's calling and give love.  We are immeasurably grateful that we chose faith over fear, and our "unknowing" was a gift from our gracious God to help us give our glorifying YES to Daniel - surely one of the very best choices of our lives.  Sharing his story in a memoir was only the next right thing to do in order to preserve each precious detail of how he changed us - how the beauty of his soul oozed all over us.  And then, six years after his passing, our charity to bless orphaned and abandoned children was born in memory of Daniel and all the other heart warriors gone too soon.  Sometimes I wonder if,  deep down,  I do all this work in his memory because I feel guilty that he's not here.  And, honestly?  Maybe that's part of it buried in the brain somewhere. But, what I do feel is tremendous honor - that God chose us to be his parents and that my job to mother him now has become about ministering to the voiceless children on Earth who deserve to have a mama too - they are royalty in the eyes of our Father.

It's my adoptive mama friends (Daddies, too) who understand this place the most.  They've taken risks of the heart themselves and they know what it's like to dance on the edge of a cliff with a medically-fragile or special needs child.  They know what it's like to fall head over heels with an image - a dream that comes to life in a paper pregnancy and a grueling process that gives you no choice but to cry out to our Heavenly Father for help along the way.  Some of them have sent off little ones to Heaven, too,  and it's in our solidarity that we weep with grateful hearts for the immeasurable gift of our children we were given the chance to love.

Mamas out there,  I know it sounds so - I don't know - "cliche" to say hug your children like it's your last day.  I say that preaching to myself because on exhaustion-filled days,  I still fail too,  but it's so important to remember.  If I could go back and give myself advice, I'd say, "Please, Lisa, take more pictures with you in them."  I was always behind the camera snapping away,  and Lord,  how I wish I had more of them to treasure and study.  Go and do it now.  I would also tell myself to "lighten up."  As a hyper-vigilant and over-protective mama,  I thank God he has an earthly Daddy who treated him like a rough and tumble boy.  He loved that so so much.

I'm not living in the past,  because Daniel still very much IS to me.  I joke and tell people that he's the most well-behaved of our children.  How can that not be true when you are up there shining brightly in the light of Jesus?  Our love story wasn't "supposed" to end,  and it hasn't really.  It's just changed from how we once thought it would be.  My mind's baffled by the fact that we've been without him so much longer than we were with him.  But, then again, we're not without him, right?  He's still such a strong part of us, and Lord knows we're connected by the pieces of our hearts he took with him up there.  The wounds are there, but they have healed so very much and they are now faded scars that I wear with gratitude.  Ten years - I know there's people in our lives who read my writings on these anniversaries each year and wonder how and why we're not "over" this loss - like there's some sort of time limit on love.  The world tells us to "move on" to "get over it."  But,  get over what?  Love??  I think you and I both know that isn't what the Good Lord intended for our tender hearts.  He wants them cracked open and exposed so His love can seep into the crevices,  take up space,  and begin to heal our wounded souls through His grace.  And those wounds are the most tangible proof that we have loved!  Why would we ever wish to diminish that or make it go away?  I do not believe that is His desire for us. We all lose loved ones in this lifetime,  and it's our choice to either blossom from that painful experience in the loving hands of our Father, or let it stronghold us at the roots and wither away in our own grief.  This child was so loved and we will wear that love like a badge of honor every day of our lives

 

On this ten-year mark of our Daniel's Heaven Day,  I'm just plain thankful.  It makes my heart swell to see how our work at Open Hearts for Orphans continues to grow through the goodness and generosity of so many people who - in one way or another - loved Daniel too and wish to help us keep his spirit alive. His chapter in our lives is not one that happened,  but rather one that still happens daily through our God-glorifying work and will continue...as long as I'm alive and able.  Serving through charitable works in Daniel's memory may seem like a "consolation prize" to some - and perhaps it is compared to having him physically here with us,  but it's in the giving of ourselves to "the least of these" and laying our grief at the foot of the cross for others that we find the most soul-satisfying comfort from our gracious and loving Father.  We know that the ultimate prize is waiting for us up there, where our son is basking in glory with His Heavenly Father.  

Perhaps today we would be having a graduation party for our son. But I guess he received the ultimate graduation when he entered Heaven's gates ten years ago. And we shall celebrate our Forever Family together with him again someday.

- Lisa Murphy

Stories of Yes #48

Casey Cleveland, the Lead Pastor of The Avenue Church in Delray Beach, preaches the gospel to his congregation and also lives the gospel in his own personal life. Pastor Casey says, "We felt God calling us to adopt out of foster care. We fostered our son Cade (currently 5 yrs old) almost from birth first, and then his sister Cora (currently 4) came along about a year later. My wife and I were able to adopt Cade and Cora two years ago and have been richly blessed by having the opportunity to share the love of God that we first received in Christ. They are God’s best YES for our family, and we are forever grateful!"

The Avenue Church not only supports adoption and foster care missions, but - when not in a pandemic - they also host a monthly "Foster Parents' Night Out" providing much-needed respite care to local foster families. They say, "Not everyone is called to be a foster parent, but each of us can spend an evening per month supporting a foster family."

Stories of YES #47 - Real Life Foster Mom

If y'all don't know Chelsea, the "Real Life Foster Mom," you should. She shares from the heart, so transparently and REAL. Today she's sharing a piece of her story here with you, and it's a glimpse into domestic foster care and the needs of the "modern day orphans" here in the US who may not be orphaned by definition - but they are still vulnerable and need us too. ❤️

"I had been sitting in the emergency room for eight hours when I got the call for a six month old baby boy. “Of course we can take him tonight, I’m sure I’ll be out of here in a few hours” I explained. Our friends & family thought we had finally lost it. I mean, not everyone views hopping off of a hospital bed to pick up your sixth kid as sane; but this is what we do, we’re a foster family, we say yes, even when it’s not the most convenient.

I stopped on my way home for some diapers, wipes, formula & a playpen. I was now prepared to love this sweet baby boy just like all of my other children & that’s what I did. What I wasn’t prepared for, was just how far my love would spread. You see, I’ve watched kids come, some stayed forever & some I watched leave. I loved all of them hard & fought even harder for what was in their best interest; but my very first prayer when we started fostering was to walk alongside biological families & I never had that chance. In fact, it had been years since I even had the opportunity to take a child to a parent visit.

When I walked through the door to drop him off for their first visit, the feeling of nervousness quickly changed to complete contentment & love for his mom. I saw how much he looked like her, how much she missed him & how his face lit up when she kissed his chunky cheeks.

This right here is the side of foster care I needed to see. The side I didn’t know I was missing out on—to journey alongside biological families through healing & reunification.

We can’t ever expect saying ‘yes’ to be easy, but we can always expect it to change lives." 

- Chelsea Floro 

Find Chelsea as "Real Life Foster Mom" on Facebook

Stories of YES #46 - Foster Care Diaries

My husband and I started our adoption journey almost five years ago. We got our foster license in August of 2015 and received our first placement less then a week later. We got the call saying, "A newborn preemie baby boy needs to be picked up at the hospital later today." Naturally, our response was, "We will be there!" They told us he weighed seven pounds, and I was ready for him with an assortment of boy clothes in a variety of sizes that we'd stored away in anticipation of this very day. My husband came home from work early, and we drove to pick up this baby boy who desperately needed us. We arrived at the hospital, and they brought out a tiny little four-pound munchkin - Immediately it was love at first sight! He was so scrawny and needy, but he was just absolute perfection in my eyes.

"Reunification" was the goal for this precious boy, and we knew that going in. We were prepared mentally if that were the end result; however, after about six months in our home, the goal for him changed to adoption. As the process went on, there were many ups and downs, with plenty of "roller coaster" feelings and new surprises showing up. Along with all the legal situations we dealt with for two years, our son had many medical needs that came with a 29-week, substance-exposed, low birth weight, and premature infant. We had tons of doctor appointments, therapies, and even an unforgettable scare that he was going to need skull surgery.

This child is - and will always be - our Superman! He’s overcome so much in his short lifetime and it's hard to believe he’s almost five years old now. We still have some issues we are working on with him - but our son is an amazing soul, he’s physically strong, and smart as a whip! He is also incredibly determined, and sometimes when this characteristic of his drives us crazy (kdding), we remind ourselves that’s WHY he survived...because he is a fighter!!

My husband and I have had eight foster placements after him - some for short periods of time, and others for longer. All of them have had varying situations, some very similar to our son's, but with different end results. And, as difficult as it can be to let go sometimes, we know it’s God’s plan in the end, not ours. Foster care life is definitely not for the faintest of hearts - but the rewards of the heart have been beyond amazing! Witnessing how our love and devotion has helped each child who comes through our home - no matter how long they stay - is enough for us, and will always be.

- Alissa Marks Silvestri