Today at EMN: "The Adoption Mystique"

In my last article about anti-adoption advocacy at "Catholic Exchange," I mentioned a book by Joanne Wolf Small entitled The Adoption Mystique. I review it today at EMN ...

I also want to take this opportunity to apologize to Ms. Small for associating her with those who are seeking to abolish adoption. The issues surrounding adoption are complex, and the different sides of the triad often shout over one another. I should have listened more carefully!

Although I doubt the CE review hurt her book sales, there are enough misunderstandings in the world of adoption that I need not add to them. I appreciate her taking the time to comment on my article. (I'm putting this comment here on my blog for those who may not see it at CE, where I will post it as well.)

Thanks, Julie ... and Lisa ... and Colleen!

Julie Davis (at "Happy Catholic") posted her review of Raising Up Mommy ... and a bonus review of one of my other books, Let Nothing Trouble You (about Teresa of Avila). Thanks, Julie, for making me such a "Happy Catholic" today!

Today Lisa Hendey also posted her interview with me on her "Catholic Moments" podcast. Thanks so much, Lisa, for a wonderful interview!

And for your daily dose of adoptive parenting inspiration, I'd like to alert you to this article about the Caviezel's adoption -- I hadn't realized until reading the article that their two children had such extensive medical needs! I found the link to this article on Colleen Hammond's blog ... thanks Colleen!

Heidi

"I Will Not Be Broken": The Book by Jerry White, Survivor Corps

I have not read this book ... but this looks like a worthwhile read for those who are struggling to rise above circumstances from their past or present. So I wanted to pass it on to you!

In his website, White offers five steps to turn "survivors" into "thrivers":

1. Face Facts. One must first accept the harsh reality about suffering and loss, however brutal. “This terrible thing has happened. It can’t be changed. I can’t rewind the clock. My family still needs me. So now what?”

2. Choose Life. That is, “I want to say yes to the future. I want my life to go on in a positive way.” Seizing life, not surrendering to death or stagnation, requires letting go of resentments and looking forward, not back. It can be a daily decision.

3. Reach Out. One must find peers, friends, and family to break the isolation and loneliness that come in the aftermath of crisis. Seek empathy, not pity, from people who have been through something similar. Let the people in your life into your life. “It’s up to me to reach for someone’s hand.”

4. Get Moving. Sitting back gets you nowhere. One must get out of bed and out of the house to generate momentum. We have to take responsibility for our actions. “How do I want to live the rest of my life? What steps can I take today?”

5. Give Back. Thriving, not just surviving, requires the capacity to give again, through service and acts of kindness. “How can I be an asset to those around me, and not a drain? Will I ever feel grateful again?” Yes, and by sharing your experience and talents, you will inspire others to do the same.

Sarah says...

There are some friends who have a seventh sense for when to step in and say or do something at just the right time, in just the right way.

For me, Sarah is one such friend. Today her review of Raising Up Mommy brought a smile to my face, and hope to my heart. If my little book is only half as good as she and her mother say it is, I'm a better writer than I thought! (*grin*)

Now if I can just get a handle on the chaos that is the rest of my life... *sigh*

Have a happy day!

Painful Truth: A Review of "Silent Prisoner" by Amanda Young (BookSurge Publishing)

From the angry, drunken brawling of her parents’ house to the soul-chilling austerity of a children’s home, eight-year-old April learned early in life that her best chance of survival involved keeping quiet and making herself useful. And so she cultivated a habit of silence.

She was silent as she stood in the yard of the orphanage, exposed to the elements, nearly dying of pneumonia. Silent as she endured unspeakable verbal, physical, and sexual abuse. Silent as the only family who had ever shown her kindness died untimely deaths. Silent as she married hastily to escape her childhood horrors, only to find the nightmares multiplied. And now the eloquent silence served her again as she faced a phantom of childhood.

April looked into her aunt’s eyes … This woman had done as everyone else had done years ago. She had closed the doors of her beautiful home while her nieces begged on the street for food. April did not want this woman to touch her, and she sensed that her aunt felt it.

“I hope you can forgive your mother,” her aunt said, carefully touching her perfectly styled hair.

“It has not been a concern of yours, how I feel now or have felt. Am I correct?”

Her aunt stepped back from [April] and looked as if she had been burned with acid. She pulled her collar again in a nervous manner. April stared at the woman and felt as if she wanted to say more, or ask why she hadn’t put her mother in a hospital, especially since her aunt’s ex-husband was an attorney and could have helped her mother. She held back and simply stared at the woman in silence (p.297-98).

Silent Prisoner is not easy reading. Yet woven throughout are silvery threads of hope: distant relations and other strangers who showed momentary kindnesses. A little boy, the product of a loveless marriage that became for her a promise of a better future. Above all, the comfort of angels and glimpses of God … not overt and overwhelming, but beacons of something better, urging her on. It is the portrait of someone truly powerless, yet ultimately unbeaten.

Foster parents and those hoping to adopt older or difficult-to-place children will particularly benefit from this unforgettable story. Even the grim details of this young woman’s life offer a glimpse into the secret burdens that are common to many of the children in the system. Some details particularly struck home:

• April kept her things stored in the paper sack she came with, not trusting that she would be able to stay anyplace “for good” – or for long.


• The emotional reserve that kept her from joining in family activities unless explicitly invited – even watching television – because she was unsure her presence would be welcome. April's resolve not to tell when someone was hurting her, fearing no one would believe her – or care enough to help.


• Her rich imagination, inventing a friend and a mountain of treasure to tide her over in the darkness.


• The pressing need to find some area of control – what she ate, where she hid, to whom she spoke – when life seemed most out of control.


• Sadly, the patterns begun in childhood continued into adulthood; on three separate occasions she married men who began to abuse her.
  

Like many victims of domestic abuse, “April” becomes disenchanted with organized religion. And, like many victims of domestic violence, she has reason to be. Instead of defending her against her abusive husband, religious figures in her story – particularly one priest, “Bill” – side with the perpetrator, urging her to be a better wife and even testifying on her abusive husband’s behalf.

While the Church has made some significant inroads into understanding the dynamics of domestic violence, such as their pastoral letter released in 1995 entitled “When I Call For Help”, stories like April’s are grim reminders that there is still much work to be done. Catholics of all stripes – laity as well as clergy – need to be aware of the realities of this particular offense against the dignity of women and the sacrament of matrimony, so that they might be able to assist these prisoners from their dungeons of silence.

Based on the author Amanda Young's true story, Silent Prisoner is valuable (though difficult) reading for all those who wish to identify with the poor and powerless. Excellent Lenten reading.

Come Be My Light: Thoughts on Spiritual Motherhood

Persistent. Fearless. Noble. These are words frequently associated with Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta and her sisters, the Missionaries of Charity. I had heard (who hasn’t?) that an oppressive spiritual cloud had plagued her during all but the earliest years of religious life. Some (hack journalist with ulterior motives, mainly) were quick to denounce her when these letters first surfaced, claiming they were proof of Mother Teresa’s lack of sanctity. Fortunately, wiser and more discerning heads prevailed, as this lack of consolation is not unprecedented among Catholic mystics.

So when I began to pore over Brian Kolodiejchuk’s Come Be My Light: The Private Writings of the “Saint of Calcutta” (see Resources), I was expecting the darkness.

What surprised me was the light … the sense that I had found a kindred spirit, someone who could help me to make sense of my own vocation.

In fact, as I delved into the book it occurred to me that Blessed Teresa of Calcutta is the perfect patroness for adoptive and foster mothers. She embodied a number of qualities and gifts that foster and adoptive parents need to emulate in order to succeed:

• A heart for the poor and defenseless, and a desire to serve them wholeheartedly,


• An ability to wait patiently, despite multiple and seemingly interminable delays,


• The ability to love, regardless of the cost,


• A willingness to look ridiculous, if necessary – and to stand by one’s convictions even when it flies in the face of popular opinion,


• The wisdom to draw strength from others when our own inner resources are depleted. (I was particularly struck by the concept of “second self”.)

In the early chapters of the book, the thing that struck me is that when she received the “call within a call,” she responded to it despite the fact that (1) she was perfectly happy where she was and (2) her perseverance nearly ruined her reputation with her superiors (who had difficulty reining in the diminutive Albanian) as well as her own sisters, and caused great consternation within her religious order.

Mother Teresa had every reason to ignore the call, and only one reason to persevere: to satiate the thirst of Christ for souls. She writes:

I used to get goose bumps at the thought of suffering – but now I embrace suffering before it actually comes, and like this Jesus and I live in love. Do not think that my spiritual life is strewn with roses – that is a flower which I hardly ever find on my way. Quite the contrary, I have more often as my companion “darkness.” And when the night becomes very thick – and it seems to me as if I will end up in hell – then I simply offer myself to Jesus (p.20).

When Craig and I first started the process to become foster parents, Johnnette reminded me that spiritual motherhood (which is what she saw me doing with Christopher and Sarah, as I had not given birth to them myself) was an important component of the feminine vocation.

At first I resisted this strongly – there was nothing “spiritual,” I thought, about changing dirty diapers and wiping down walls. I felt that by calling me a “spiritual” mother, she was diminishing the role I was going to play in the life of these kids. As far as I was concerned, I was their honest-to-goodness real mother, especially after the adoption came through.

As I make my way through these pages, however, I’ve come to see this differently. Despite the fact that her work was as down-and-dirty as it could possibly be, bathing and feeding the indigent and dying, and educating the children left in the gutter, the primary battle Mother Teresa fought was an intrinsically spiritual one – one within herself, and often by herself.

She and her sisters went into the worst slums and gutters of Calcutta to touch the lives of thousands of men, women, and children who had known only suffering, in order to break the bonds of the spiritual forces that enslaved them. She believed her most important task was to “bring souls to Jesus, and bring Jesus to souls.”

And it is this that takes my breath away: She did it all with a smile. She smiled at Jesus, no matter how the darkness raged, how the isolation threatened to smother her. She gave Him everything she had, and then she gave even her poverty.

She did not worry, or look for escape clauses. The work was not hers, but God’s. She had only to give it her all … and trust God for the results.

And, I need to do the same. What a challenge ... and what a relief!

Blessed Teresa, Mother of Calcutta and of all the poor and powerless,
You saw America as a land of desperate poverty, despite our wealth.
Hundreds of thousands of children are neglected, abused, unloved.
Pray, please pray for them and for us, that the Lord of the Harvest
Will wake up His servants, who will gather the harvest not into barns
But into our very hearts and homes.

Blessed Teresa, Patroness of Spiritual Parents, Pray for Us!