>I’m discovering that adoption is like marriage and parenting: it completely exposes all my worst faults. Even when I am going with the flow (not often) in this adoption, right below the surface is a little girl, stomping her foot, red-faced, demanding her way.
I have a tendency to white-knuckle my way through the important stuff. I just. want. to. control it. As if I know best. I want to grab hold of my kids’ willpower, twisting them to just do what I say. I want to gently persuade my husband to do things my way (this time my white knuckles are behind my back, but my hands are clenched all the same). I want to control the process of this adoption, whether it’s by writing an e-mail, dedicating my yoga practice to it, or taking my frustrations out on a trusted friend, accusing and wounding both her and me.
It’s like so many things: God has so many purposes for this adoption. Even before it’s an official adoption, you’d better believe he’s using it to work on me. Even if I can maintain an illusion of control in my current relationships, there’s no pretending here. It’s like he wants me to give up the pretense in other areas and realize it’s all the same: control isn’t the answer. It’s not healthy. Control isn’t love. And I am called, above all else, to love. Even when I’m weary and broken. Especially then.