His Ways Are Higher Than My Ways

“Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.”—Psalm 143:8 (ESV)

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.”—James 1:5 (ESV)

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.”—Psalm 32:8 (ESV)

Five years into our fostering journey, Brendan became our 22nd foster child. He was an “easy” foster child who was respectful, affectionate, and thoughtful. Six months later, we found ourselves in front of a judge who legally declared him our child.

As soon as the adoption was finalized, it was like somebody had flipped a switch. We were shocked when Brendan’s sweet, easy-going temperament changed and we began to see sides of him that we hadn’t encountered before. He challenged everything, had to have the last word, screamed hateful things, and slammed doors.

You see, Brendan had come from an unstructured environment where he was an only child living with a single parent. Brendan ate whatever he wanted and had no enforced bedtime. No one had ever read a book to him, and at age six he didn’t know his letters.

Despite Brendan’s efforts to push us away, we leaned in. A whole team of caring adults surrounded him, including us. We enlisted the help of our foster care agency; a therapist for Brendan; our church’s foster care program, and a support group.

We now understood that adjusting to our home, with its discipline and structure, must have been overwhelming for this boy who was used to having everything his own way. And, instead of being an only child, Brendan was now the youngest of four kids. Fighting us when life didn’t go as he expected and needing to control his little world were his survival techniques.

It has been two years since we adopted Brendan and he’s developing respect for his siblings and for us. Although there are still emotional outbursts when he may shout, “I hate you,” we’re also seeing the hope of beautiful change and growth in him. Last Father’s Day, Brendan’s handmade card included these touching words: “I love you so much. Thank you for teaching me many things, like how to throw a football and how to be self-controlled. You are the best daddy ever!”

Our goal isn’t to have our son fit our mold; rather, over time, we hope we can help him shift his belief system. This means moving away from believing he’s unwanted to understanding he’s unconditionally loved, accepted, and free to be the amazing, kind-hearted boy God created him to be. Our hope is that we, too, are being changed in the process—by letting go of the need to be right, learning how to offer a humble apology when we blow it, and surrendering our will to God when things don’t go our way. Just as Brendan is learning to trust us, we’re clinging to the truth that God is with us and will guide us as we learn to trust in Him through this beautiful, broken, hope-filled journey of adoption.