And the question is, Just How Pathetic Am I

If you saw me right now you might laugh, or you might just conclude that I am one of the most pathetic people you have ever encountered in your life.

As you know, we are visiting with John today. His idea of a fun time is walking through the mall looking for guetto clothing, hats, and jewelry. My idea of good time is not walking through the mall looking for guetto clothing, hats, and jewelry. I’d rather do almost anything but shop – except, of course, run a marathon. I think I’d rather even ride an exercise bike than shop.

So I was in the food court – very uncomfortable chairs – and I was going to work a while – and low and behold, surprise surprise, there was wireless internet. I was quite excited until I realized that I only had 11 minutes of battery power left on my laptop.

So I looked for a plug in and the closest one was in the bathroom where, fortunately there are very comfortable chairs – much more comfortable than the mall food court chairs which, in this particular mall, are most hideous. But the internet signal does not reach the bathroom, so I am typing this blog entry while my laptop charges to transfer after I walk back out to the food court.

The day is going well, although I am always annoyed by many of the conversations my teens have with one another. I am probably a typical mother in this respect, but I find a lot of what they do and say most frustrating. This led my brain onto another topic that I have been thinking about today, which is spiritual formation of people adopted as older children.

My spiritual formation began at conception. I was living inside of a woman who prayed at 4:30 a.m. every day, and read her Bible daily, journaling her thoughts. The sounds outside of my womb were ones of hymns and spiritual songs, preaching more than once a week, Christian radio, and my parents praying aloud together and reading the Bible. I was born on a Saturday, and so I was not in a church service until I was 8 days old, but I probably have not missed more than 15 Sundays of church in 43 years.

My parents ingrained Scripture and biblical principles into my head from the time I was a small child and I knew very little else for years. By the time I headed into adolescence, I had made up my mind about my faith.

Contrast this experience to the experience of my children. While in the womb they heard arguing, fighting and partying. Drugs and alcohol entered their blood stream in the womb. Domestic violence was part of their pre-birth experience, and the sounds outside of the womb were frightening ones. When living with their birth parents they most likely never attended a church service.

Fast forward 6 or 8 or 11 years later and they are thrust into a pastor’s family. And a few years after that they reach adolescence and they begin to determine exactly who they want to be. Some of them conclude that Christianity is 1) White; 2) Middle Class, and 3) a value of their parents. They conclude that they are not like their parents and do not want to be. Plus, using God, or their rejection of God, as a punishment to us, especially considering that their Dad is a pastor, they are not open to anything resembling spirituality.

When you factor in FASD, it complicates things even further. Isn’t our idea of Christianity based on the idea of rewards and consequences for behavior? Be holy, follow the ten commandments, accept Christ as Savior and by God’s grace you’ll get into heaven. Don’t do those things, and there are consequences.

What if I don’t understand consequences? What if I cannot control my impulses? What if my disability prevents me from being able to make good choices?

I do not have all the answers. I struggle daily with how, and how much, I should attempt to communicate spiritual truths to my children. I see them headed down paths that are not only harmful to their bodies and their minds, but also to their souls and I never really know exactly how to approach it. I learned early on after my brothers, raised just like I was, “turned out” completely different, that parents cannot necessarily take away freedom of choice.

I do have this one answer: that God’s grace is bigger than I imagined, and that this grace will sustain me and my children during the years ahead. I will be faithful to instruct, to preach when necessary, and to pray and trust God for the rest. It’s not only all I can do, it is all I’m being asked to do, and it is enough. My actions, not the results of them, are all I am responsible for. The results I will leave with God, and trust that Galatians 6:9 is truth: “So do not grow weary in well-doing, for in due time you will reap a harvest if you do not give up.”