Perspective

If you're reading this post right now, please get a piece of paper and a pen or pencil. I have a story to tell you but first you must write down 5 things. Really. Please do it. It'll be more effective if you write them down instead of remember them in your head. Okay. Ready?

1. Write down the name of someone close to you. Someone significant. Someone you wouldn't want to live without. Can be someone living or not.

2. Write down something you'd like to do or a place you'd like to go if money were no object.

3. Write down your favorite food. I know it may be hard to choose, but just pick one of your favorite things to eat.

4. Write down somewhere you like to go to be alone.

5. Write down your spoken language. Most of you will write English.

Okay, here's the story...

Imagine with me that the world is coming to an end. Not the kind of end where Jesus is coming back...but there is some sort of tragedy approaching and we're all being evacuated. We watch the news and learn that preparations are being made to bus everyone to a safe place. BUT we can't bring everything on our list. We must choose one thing that we'll leave behind. Okay, cross off one of your things.

We all begin to pack and continue to watch and listen to the news for updates. We're nervous and anxious and a little scared. We've just been told that our accommodations aren't quite as large as originally thought and we must leave one more thing behind. Go ahead and cross off another item from your list that you will leave behind.

The day has come for the buses to arrive. We hear them barreling down the street and walk out to meet them. We know that our home will be destroyed in the tragedy and say a short, sad goodbye as we close the door for the last time. As we approach the buses, we can hear one of the drivers on the loudspeaker saying that space is limited on the bus and we must leave one more thing behind. Now choose one more thing and cross it off your list. Is it getting a little difficult to decide?

We all start cramming onto the crowded buses. We're hot and uncomfortable, sad and scared, and grumpy. The last thing we want to hear is the driver say that several buses have broken down and we'll need to fit more people on. But that is exactly what he says. Which means we have to cross off another item from our list. One more thing must be left behind.

So, we're down to our one precious thing. Our one last remembrance of home. We travel high and low...it's a long and tiring trip. We arrive at our destination to find that some of the accommodations for us have been destroyed by the tragedy. There is not room for everyone and their one thing. We all must leave our last item behind. Go ahead and cross off your very last item.

This was one the exercises we did at our training for hosting Leanna this summer. We actually discussed adoption for most of the day. Which I found ironic since we're not even supposed to say 'the A word.' I did this exercise with the kids a few days ago. This is what it will be like when we adopt Leanna. She'll be leaving everything behind. Her family members. Her friends. Her home. Her school. Her favorite foods. Her books. Everything she's ever known. Even her language. Can you imagine leaving something like your language behind? And I don't mean that she'll forget how to speak Russian, although many adopted children want nothing to do with their native language once they come to America. I mean that she won't be able to communicate easily with us for awhile. When she was here last winter it was very frustrating for her not to be able to talk with us. Sometimes she would grunt...an exasperated, "ERRRRR!" when we just couldn't figure out what she was trying to say.

All this to say, if you notice some less-than-desirable behaviors from Leanna this summer and when she's home for good, please remember this exercise. It's easy for us to get excited about her coming. It's easy for us to think only about the good...we're adopting her. She'll finally have a family. A home. She'll finally be loved. And hugged. She'll finally have parents. And siblings. It's easy for us to wonder why she wouldn't be grateful for taking her out of a hopeless situation. I know. There've been many times when I've wondered if we're doing the right thing. For Leanna, I mean. Taking her away from everything she knows and loves? How can that be the right thing for her? Some days it seems a bit unfair. But then I'm reminded that Leanna has no future in Russia. Her future is likely prostitution. Drugs. Death. Most orphans don't live past the age of 24. Twenty four. At the training, we got to hear from several kids who have been adopted. They ranged in age from 11 to early 20's. One of the girls mentioned that before she was adopted, she was preparing for prostitution. She knew that was her future. I can't even imagine what these precious kids have been through.

So if, as you're getting to know Leanna, she acts indifferent towards you, please remember that she has learned to trust no one. She has learned that she can't count on the people who are supposed to love her. She has learned that the people who are supposed to nurture have not. She has learned that the people she should be able to trust with her life are capable of hurting her and are not worthy of trust. She is likely afraid of being hurt again and it will take time to build trust with her. We live in a world where big people take care of little people (in most cases). Leanna lives in a world where big people hurt little people. I just ask that you love her where she's at. Try to understand her perspective. And pray for her. For her transition into our family. That she'll learn English quickly. And for her healing heart.