The Beautiful and the Ugly

The following post was written by Shellie Salza- a dear friend and sister whom I admire and deeply love. We have the honor of walking out this fostercare journey alongside eachother and I can honestly say it has kept us going when we want to give up.  Having someone understand the depth of the pain and joy that comes with this "adventure" has been essential to our ministry.  

Last Friday, the Salzas adopted their foster son Malachi.  He has really been a "Salza Boy" for 18 months, but watching the official milestone unfold was incredible. 
Shellie- Thank you for your willingness to share a part of your story.



Reflections of Adoption/Fostercare a week later
Because I continually call out Facebook as a liar, an easy way for us to portray a highlight reel of our lives without including the reality of life (and I feel called to be real in all my circumstances) I'm sharing more of what last Friday represents for us as a family:

Last Friday was beautiful. I laughed and smiled so much my cheeks ached. I cried so much my water proof mascara was a joke. I loved every minute of sharing our precious Malachi with friends and family. I cherish every message and thought received through our announcement about this major milestone. I will hold every conversation, hug and well wish from all those who came to celebrate with us in my memory bank forever. 

Friday was beautiful.

I read an article last week titled "Adoption is Ugly". It was written by a Mom being real. It resonated. And now, after that beautiful day, I'm letting myself reflect over the last eighteen months. 

My conclusion is clear.

Adoption is beautiful. 

Adoption is ugly. 

Fostercare changed our family. 

It's a simple matter of mathematics. The extreme attention we had to give in the beginning to this little stranger in our lives directly took time and attention away from our older two. 

While we mourned for all that this little guy had endured and wanted nothing more than to love it all away, getting to know him and looking past the initial behavior to figure out who was underneath all the layers of hurt was hard.

Fostercare has changed me.

The screaming, the biting, the head banging, the long nights were taxing...on all of us. My patience wore thin. Babysitters became a thing of the past. Even sitting next to Mike in church, relaxed and attentive ceased with a three year old testing and fighting every boundary. 

Outside our home as we ran into people who were meeting him for the first time I was so proud of him. At the same time, I was frustrated at how often strangers, friends and family dismissed our older two children as they went on about our newest member. 

The looks we got when we decided to try any normal outing when our family dynamic had become anything but normal were palpable. We were 'those' parents with 'that' child overnight. 

I learned a lot about myself. I'm not always kind, I'm not always patient, I'm not always loving, I'm not always forgiving. I care a lot about what others think when out in public. I fall short of what these boys need and deserve daily.

Fostercare has changed all of us. 

It's forced me to really see what goes on in my own town. Addiction, abuse, neglect, trafficking, homelessness... 
It's so easy to believe it happens somewhere else. It doesn't. It happens in all our towns.

The boys, especially my oldest, have been forced to see it too. They have a heart for people all around us I know I didn't teach them. They're more ready to love most days than I am.

Today we're a family of five. We have been for a long time.

Adoption is the perfect picture of who we are in Christ. 

Adoption comes from brokenness. 

Brokenness is all around us. 

Beautiful things come from it. 

All of us can play a part.