December 2018 – This Eternal Journey

the heart part…

“Wow”, he whispers in his husky, little boy way as I open the locket for the 9th time that Christmas day.

“Who is that in there?” I whisper back. He smells like juice and crackers and boy.

His dark eyes meet mine. “Mama.” and he solemnly points to himself. Leaning down he plants a wet kiss on the locket. I brush off the goldfish crumbs and close it.

Stay close to Mama’s heart. Here you are. And I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that isn’t this every child’s desire? That connection…that love…to be held close to their parents’ hearts? It’s such a basic desire….so easily given to our biological children….and yet, there are so many who never feel that love.

Lian just revels in this closeness….being this sweet center of the family. Not in a spoiled way…well, sometimes…yes…

but in the undeniable way that he is something that he never was before.

A part of a cohesive group of people who just adore him.

Have you ever been in a large group of people, sometimes for many years, and yet you’ve never felt like you were ever truly a part of them? As if there’s this whole whirling universe of connection out there and you see it, but you’ve never experienced it?

orange and and brown chess pieces

You don’t know what it feels like to be a part of the group, but you see that some people have it, they are IN, they are a welcomed, beloved part.

Take that feeling, because we’ve all been there, and magnify it by about 1000….because being a part of a family, feeling that closeness is something that children absolutely long for, dream of, cry out for.

The least we can do is hear their cries, make them a part.

I’ve always kind of been a loner in my life. I’ve longed for deep relationships, longed to be included, but I’ve always struggled. Being left out is my normal. I don’t say that for sympathy at all. I say it merely because I understand it thoroughly.

I cannot even imagine what it is like for some of these children who see their friends, their bunk mates, their buddies in the cribs next to them, be taken away to be with family. And many of these older children fully comprehend what is going on….that the more beautiful or the less medically challenged children get chosen first….they get to go away to be the heart of a family….and she is left alone for a myriad of reasons.

This just kills me.

You know what else kills me? Yesterday I was scrolling down the adoption list for children 3 and under….the number 1 age group to adopt from, the most requested age group…..

And this list went on and on…and every other child was Down syndrome, Down syndrome, no other health issues but Down syndrome….quiet, healthy, has Down syndrome, extroverted, healthy, Down syndrome, VSD Down syndrome, repaired heart with Down syndrome.

Why? LOOK at the videos of our son! He is a happy, wonderful, sweet PERSON who simply has ONE EXTRA CHROMOSOME.

And yet the world says that because of that chromosome, most children don’t even deserve to LIVE and if they DO live, they don’t deserve families. They will sit, day after day, in a crib in an orphanage….

This KILLS me.

And it’s one thing to look at Lian, to look at us and say, “Oh, it’s so amazing what they’ve done, but I COULD NEVER DO THAT.”

Yes, yes you could do this! This is doable for you, for many people. These children deserve you, a family, to LIVE and thrive in.

They deserve to be put in a locket and worn close to their mama’s heart every day. They deserve to be sung to at night and to choose between whether they want blueberries or blackberries for snack.

THEY DO NOT DESERVE TO BE CONFINED AND TREATED WORSE THAN CRIMINALS in broken systems that churn out damaged human beings.

They deserve to know that God loves them, that they are valued more than they could ever imagine.

Church, Christians, we need to EXAMINE ourselves and our priorities….examine why we elevate comfort over sacrifice.

selective focus photography of child s hand on person s palm

We are not called to live this way.

We are called to be leading the way to rescue these small souls.

If you are feeling called to adopt, please consider a child who has Down syndrome. They are the least of these. Trust me, their extra chromosome will fill up your family with so much love and life, excitement and wonder. You won’t know what hit you.

Let’s live life this way. Without fear. Let’s say “yes” to hard things.

What you think it the hard part will definitely be the heart part.

if I were a shoe….

I’m a writer, so my mind works in mysterious and often strange ways. In the weird way that I commonly contemplate life, I was thinking the other day about shoes…and if shoes were friendships, what type of shoe would I be in a friendship?

After much imaginative deliberation, here’s what I’ve concluded.

It goes something like this…If I were a shoe, I think I’d liken myself to a pair of rain boots that sit on your back porch. Steady, dependable, waterproof, I get you through the floods of life. The deluges. The storms, mud and rain. In the spring, you take me out and I splash through the muddy puddles of life with you.

person wearing pink knee high rain boots standing on brown floor

On warm, summery days, you clickety-clack out the door with your swishing skirt, bedazzled throat, with your party-shoe friends on, all of you so strappy, thin, and sparkling. Your party-shoe friends make you look tall and beautiful, perfect for your selfies and party photos…and I sigh, sometimes, as I watch and wait, steady and dependable in my ordinary spot in the back steps.

fashion person woman feet

Some days, you bumpity-bump down the steps with your bulging luggage and your travel-shoe friends. You are all elated, rugged, and trendy, ready for all of the world’s adventures. They exude excitement, anticipating the journey and you’re so excited to be with them, for they will take to you to exotic places where your photos will look like paintings and you’ll bask in foreign suns.

person wearing pair of brown suede work boots facing body of water

I flop to my side while you’re away, in the strong, evening breeze, flexible and sturdy. The milky stars appear one by one, distant and clear, brilliant and soft in all of their eternal glory.

And I wait.

Here or there, you flippety-flop out of the house with your shopping shoe friends, all chattery, lip gloss sparkling, earrings catching the light, phones at the ready to capture all of the laughter and fun for your girls’ day out.

feet summer dress sandals

I know that later I’ll see the photos, hear the stories of you adventures. I’ll laugh, listen, and wistfully agree that you had great time….I watch the sky, and the seasons slide by, and I know that sunny days don’t last forever…and I stay because who will see you through when the floods come?

And I watch and wait.

And one morning, I see the storm clouds billowing in, hearing the distant thunderous announcements, and I know that, once again, I will be donned. You see, with my ridged soles and sturdy sides, I will wade you through the storms of your life, slow and steady, strong and resilient. When you’re slogging through the mud, you know I’ll be there…dependable and quiet, but always there. My thick soles will keep you from slipping on the rocks of troubles into the torrents of tearful despair. You lean into my tall sides against the onslaught and I can give you balance through the rushing rivers.

person wearing clear plastic raincoat and pair of yellow rainboots

On other days, when you need to pull the stubborn weeds that threaten your growth and mar your garden, I’ll be in the mud right there with you, keeping you clean and dry. If you’re mucking out stalls, working on the farm….well….I’m there to keep you from getting too stinky.

monochrome photography of children wearing boots

You see, I don’t look good with party clothes, unless it’s to get you to the party through the rain….arriving, you quickly take me off to don your cheerful, brightly colored party-shoe friends…they’re so much fun at parties!…with their sparkly laughter and witty conversations. I’ll sit on the host’s porch and wait until you need to get home.

And you clomp home with me, depositing me unceremoniously by the back door while you go inside to nestle with your comfortable, evening, fireside slipper-friends. They are warm and cozy, agreeing with everything you have to say in their philosophical airs and theoretical opinions. You discuss great matters with them over coffee and I listen quietly from my home by your back door. I know I’m not educated enough to opine about world issues or understand the intricacies of the trendy, modern dialects.

person wearing pair of black slides

I listen and thoughtfully wait.

Honestly, I have tried to be a different kind of shoe friend. Oh, how I’ve tried! I didn’t want to be a rain boot friend! They aren’t fun or special….too serious. They aren’t pretty or popular…..to ordinary. Nobody says, “Just wait until you see this AWESOME pair of rain boots that I saved up for and got!”

No, I’m mostly bought in a pinch. “Oh no! It’s raining, quick! Grab that pair of rain boots, I need them right now!”

In my younger years, when I was just a little Croc, I tried to be a party-shoe friend, but I lacked the sophistication and sparkle. Parties are exhausting! I’ve tried to be the travel-shoe friend, adventurous and daring….ready to take on the world….but when I was along for the ride, I longed for home, and when I returned, I was happy…content to not be continually amazed. Besides, I wasn’t built to be worn for long periods of time…I’m not comfortable enough and you need thick socks with me.

For a brief period, I attempted being a dance-shoe friend…what a miserable time that was! The lights were too bright, the crowds too rambunctious, my cheeks would ache from the forced smile that never made it past my face to my heart.

boots bridal bouquet bride celebration

Then, could I be a flip-flop friend? Bright, breezy, easily replaced every season…but no…that didn’t work either. I’m too long term. I don’t dispose of people easily and I do not like being disposed of.

And so, after much experimentation, I have decided that I am happy to be a rain boot-friend. I’ll be here if you need me and it’s ok that I’m not in your party photos or shiny-shoe friend selfies. Even if you don’t need me for a long time, I’ll just be waiting on your back porch where you left me, watching the clouds for the storms…glad to get you through until the sun shines and the puddles have dried.

You see, you need all of these friends in your life and all of these friends serve a beautiful and cohesive purpose for you. Your party-shoe friends, your plucky travel-shoe friends, your dancing-shoe friends, fuzzy slipper-friends…and yes, even your rain boot friends.

Whatever type of shoe friend you are, just be the shoe that the Designer made you to be. I can never whittle down my sides and glue on some sparkles to become a party-shoe friend, nor am I good with travel…too bulky. I’ve learned the hard way that I’m happiest being what I am, what I was designed to be. I cannot force myself to be a different shoe when my design was pre-planned.

So, wherever you are in life, even if you’ve needed me before and haven’t needed me since, I’ll still be there for you….waiting by the backdoor of your existence, watching the clouds and anticipating how I can ease you through your next rainy day.

I’m a happy pair of rain boots.

And I really only look good with a tutu if I’m worn on a three year old.

photo of yellow boots near flowers

screaming into the wind…

We can no longer exist in this state of soft and sleepy Christian denial, we must move forwards as the army of Christ and sacrifice everything we have for the cause of those who are lost. We want to stand confidently before God, look him in the face and say that we did all we possibly could to lead these small ones to Him.

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I’ll be straight up honest with you. In the church, I feel like I’m screaming into the wind, banging my head against a wall, yelling underwater…my voice is breaking.

And I keep screaming, even through the funny, uncomfortable looks or the rolled eyes or the “it’s not what God is calling us to do” statements…because there’s too much at stake here to simply let my voice take a permanent vacation.

You see, it’s not that there is an actual “no” being said. You can’t even get to the point where people actually make a yes or no decision. What always get me is the vast, unending silence and it relentlessly presses down upon my soul. It’s the total lack of interest, lack of questions, it’s the uncomfortable look people get when I start talking about the rows of cribs, the little faces, and how many children there are who wait.

It’s the endless excuses and statements of “Well, you can’t guilt people into adopting,” and “Adoption isn’t for everyone,” and “We just aren’t called to this.” And, honestly, I somewhat agree with every statement here…

You CAN’T guilt people into adopting, but you CAN challenge them to at least be honestly, wholeheartedly open to praying about it and being willing to accept the scary answer. Adoption ISN’T for everyone, I agree…but orphan care in some way, shape, or form IS. “We aren’t called to this” is the most frustrating one…because you ARE called, you ARE equipped, you ARE strong in the Lord and the power of His might.

Now, I know that people look at adoptive families and think we are all a little crazy. And we are, in all the good ways. We are CRAZY about getting children into homes…we are CRAZY about lost souls for Christ…we are CRAZY about having completely open eyes to the reality of the crisis in this world…sometimes, we are just plain crazy from lack of sleep. 🙂

When you get to the bottom of the problem, it’s an idol of convenience and comfort that we, as American Christians, must battle. Never before in all of history have American believers been so rich, so comfortable, so healthy, so free, so crowded around a man made wealth/health/prosperity theology…and it weakens us greatly. For while we think we are so strong with our coffee/Bible instagram photos and our trendy worship services, these children are going to hell in a hand basket and we are fully, completely, undeniably responsible for our utter lack of interest in them.

I AM responsible. I fully know that ONE DAY, I, Cady Beth Driver, will stand before God and give an account for my life. For the time I have spent, the resources I have spent, the talents I have spent….and I am guilty in so many ways of unrelenting selfishness. I AM so spoiled, I fully admit that. I FIGHT these urges to just continue my life, that I’ve done enough, I’ve adopted one special needs child and isn’t that enough?

dawn sunset beach woman

Well?

I don’t know….I’m not calling for legalism, but, I beg of you, please stop making us shout into the wind. I’m imploring you, as a church body, to HEAR our hearts, ask the hard questions, fully open your eyes to the reality of what is all around you. Just because you cannot see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

Orphans are a hard and ugly reality.

It’s a slap-you-in-the face reality. We can no longer exist in this state of soft and sleepy Christian denial, we must move forwards as the army of Christ and sacrifice everything we have for the cause of those who are lost. We want to stand confidently before God, look him in the face and say that we did all we possibly could to lead these small ones to Him.

I KNOW that there are parents out there who adopt terminally ill children. I know that when they walk through those pearly gates, that that child will be flying into their arms. I know that there are parents who walk incredibly hard roads for the sake of these small souls for eternity, but what if we all did it?

What if every church service had the hiss of oxygen machines, the humming of special needs kids, the adorable off-key singing of children with Down syndrome?

What if we had to turn up the pastor’s voice just to hear him speak over the din of welcoming the least of these into our church bodies with open arms?

What if?

Why must we shout into the wind? Why???

Why must we beg and plead, why can’t we all be this giant crowd of believers running to the helpless?

I don’t have all the answers and yes, I AM fully crazy for this cause. Because I don’t want to close my eyes and pretend like these children do not exist or that they’re not worth every piece of paperwork, every penny, ever sleepless night, every mama’s broken heart…they are WORTH IT.

My heart’s cry is this…Ask questions of adoptive parents…ask them how many children are in their child’s orphanage. Ask them what you can do to help, how you can be involved, how can you pray, how can you support.

Asking is the first step in a journey of illumination and let me tell you, you’ll never want to go back to the time when you didn’t know the answers.

This will break you in all the right ways. All the God ways.

And you’ll join the crowd of adoptive families who are shouting to come and experience the good, the bad, the heartbreak, the triumphs that make up our topsy turvy worlds of adoption.

Come and shout with us. Join us and do hard things…

love spelled with stones