Broken

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They told me that this would be hard. That adoption comes from brokenness and that it is never as joyful and sunny as it seems like it should be. In our minds, adoption should be happy. A child has been rescued, right? It’s difficult to wrap our brains around the fact that “rescued” is a terrible way to describe it.

Yes, a child was without a forever home, and now s/he isn’t, and that’s so great, but they often don’t feel rescued, and what happens before, in between, and after the courtroom is still broken. (I’ll be using that word a lot in this post, broken, so buckle up and prepare yourself for some redundancy.) I haven’t even had a taste of the heartbreak that some adoptive and foster homes experience, and I am already exhausted. Exhausted from things not going my way, exhausted from the system, exhausted from waiting, exhausted from everything being out of my control.

Some of you are familiar with our adoption process. If not, you can find previous posts here, here, and here. As for a further update, we are still waiting. Sorry. I know some of you want precious, and I just don’t have any of it for you yet.

We have been selected as the pending adoptive family for a boy, but he has not been placed in our home yet. I’m finding it difficult to write about all of this without betraying anyone’s confidence or integrity and I’m sorry for that. I will share more as I feel more comfortable with the situation. That’s the hard part about being known as a writer who is brutally honest. I want to be, but sometimes even I have to have a little more tact.

Here’s some brutally honest for you, though. Seeing the intricacies of the system and how broken it is in and of itself makes me want to quit. It does. I’m so burnt out, worn down, and discouraged that it makes me feel like my small part in what is supposed to be the solution feels like it doesn’t matter. If all I get is pushback, what’s the point, right? This is the ugly side of adoption. It’s not all rainbows and butterflies like our unseasoned brains think it should be. Kids are broken. Homes are broken. The system is broken. WE, are broken.

The formula we make up where a kid is abandoned and then we come in on our white horses and “save” him/her and they are eternally grateful and happy and everything is beautiful just isn’t realistic. Not even a little bit. Yes, it can be beautiful in the end, but something had to break first. God never intends for those kids to be with adoptive parents. They were always supposed to be with their biological families, but through turmoil and heartbreak, we are second-best. We, who God commands to take care of the widows and the orphans. The members of society who are most desperate and in need of love and care. He doesn’t say “Take care of them if you feel ‘called’.” There’s your calling. Take care of them.

He paints a beautiful picture of adoption through the death of His Son. His intention was never for sin to enter the world, but it did, and it took brokenness in its worst form to fix it. The world was broken, so He became broken to come to our rescue. These kids come from situations that most of us can’t stand to imagine, and it’s our job to break and bend in order to take care of them. Not if it’s easy. Not until it’s not worth it anymore. Not to make us happy. But because those kids need to see God in us. Because if we aren’t patient while they figure this out, and walk through the process slower than we’d like, and are hesitant when we feel like they shouldn’t be, and when the system gets us down, who will?

Love, Alex

That Time at Mentor Camp

april seggebruch

This is April Seggebruch. She owns a company called Movista. She also played basketball for the Razorbacks. Soooo yeah, it was a pretty cool interview.

This is probably going to totally embarrass my husband, but let’s be honest, when has that ever stopped me? (That was a joke, it has actually stopped me a lot, believe it or not. Oh the stories I could tell…)

On Wednesday, I went with him to Mentor Camp, which is a thing that happens in different cities around the world (for reals) where people who are successful in business and entrepreneurship come together and meet with less seasoned companies and coach them. The founder, Permjot Valia, chose Northwest Arkansas as one of these cities. We’re officially the cool kids. Forbes thinks so too.

Mentor-Camp-Logo

Anyway, because my husband does cool things, namely, The Go Rogue Podcast, he and our friend Jason from Red Barn Studio  were able to set up a mock studio at the event and interview some really cool people from all over the world. I’m not gunna lie, you guys, seeing my husband talk shop with the big timers was pret-ty sexy. The sexiest part, however, is that he is super respected in this field. There were plenty of times where he was asked a difficult question or put on the spot in a way that made me nervous for him, but every single time, he handled himself so gracefully that I was impressed with him all over again.

joe stump

This is Bryan interviewing Joe Stump from Portland, Oregon. PORTLAND! Needless to say, Bryan had much to talk to him about his favorite city.

Uh, here's me "helping" with mic check. It was really just a lot of snarky answers to Bryan's test questions.

Uh, here’s me “helping” with mic check. It was really just a lot of snarky answers to Bryan’s test questions.

There have been lots of times recently where I have questioned how thinly Bryan spreads himself. He does a lot of stuff. And don’t get me wrong, I still hold to the fact that he needs to learn to manage his time with all of his side ventures in a better way, but it’s reminders like this that remind me to encourage him to keep going.

It’s only recently that I’ve been able to admit to myself that my husband is cooler than me. This is a pretty deep subject to delve into, but let’s explore it a little. There are two different reasons why this statement is not bad, but actually a good thing.

First, it helps me see the division of responsibilities that must exist between us. After working together on our businesses for almost 5 years now, we have finally started learning the importance if roles. I am not as outgoing or “Salesman-y” as Bryan, and that doesn’t make me less-than or a slacker. I’m good at the administrate stuff. And that has to be ok with me.

Second, it shows me the areas in my life where I could stand to be less afraid. Bryan is cooler than I am, he has less fear, I’ve written before about how much of a dreamer and eternal optimist he is, and that’s true in every facet of his life. He is doing such amazing things, and instead of thinking that he has worked hard to get to where he is and that he has earned it, he feels just so truly honored to get to be there with all of these successful people. It makes me want to be more like him. More brave. Less fearful. More carefree. Less cautious.

I strongly encourage all of you to support your significant other. Sure, we have to keep our dreamers grounded sometimes, but I never want to tether his soul too close to the earth. I needed this reminder, Mentor Camp. You keep doing you.

Love, Alex

P.S: Keep checking in at goroguepodcast.com to hear all of the interviews from Mentor Camp, including Stephanie McCratic (Who I LOVE), Permjot Valia, Joe Stump, April Seggebruch, Ross Webb, and Abby Kiefer.

Spicy


Don’t let this photo fool you. My child is everything they said babies wouldn’t be. He is never cold, and has always gotten too hot for me to put him in those adorable fuzzy pajamas. He is strong willed and opinionated. And he is the opposite of cuddly and sweet.

I tell him all the time that he is not sweet, he’s spicy…just like his mama. I’m telling y’all, this child may look a lot like his daddy, but he is 100% my personality. I’m both proud of this and terrified for my and his (and Bryan’s) future.

This photo was taken while trying to get him to wind down and get ready for bed. He had been fighting me and trying to buck out of my arms. I held him tightly and said calming things to him as he fought and fought and finally was still.

God uses adorable little scenarios like this to gently wave my behavior at me like “Oh hey, see that? That’s you.” He tries to help and teach and refine me and I just fight Him. Nonstop. No matter how many times I’ve “learned my lesson” Having a baby has taught me a lot about how God must see us. Babies are ridiculous and irrational and unwise and clumsy and everything seems so obvious to everyone except them. Hm… I mean really. Babies be crazy. Perfect baby logic: “What’s this? The edge of the bed? Seems smart to just crawl off of here.” God tells us to trust Him, that He knows the way and that it’s better than ours, but we would rather just roll off the bed and hope for the best.

I love this Spicy child with my whole entire heart, and I am beyond grateful that someone loves me that much and more through all of my shortcomings and stupid behavior.