The hardest thing about finding out I was adopted was what I looked like. No longer could I look in the mirror, at my pictures and see my parents in me. I could not expect to see parts of my parents "show up" in my children. It felt like I lost them all over again, and in a way I did. So I avoided mirrors like the plague and put away all the photos of me that were easily visible. Each time I looked in the mirror my heart would break a little.My grief, not of being adopted, but not having that physical part of my parents is what hurt.
But that's all I lost, the physical. What I kept was the unconditional love, joyful memories and a foundation in Christ; they gave me that. The same things I desire to instill in my children. And if we are ever blessed to adopt our self, why would I morn the loss of the physical? After all, the way my eyes look, the flecks of gold and green and brown, He made
them that way! My smile. My cheeks. My monkey toes. He created me in His
image. His design for me was before the foundation of the earth. I was made in the image of my Father! We all were and what a wonderful thing to see when we look in the mirror.
Now mirrors are no longer my enemy. Photos are on display and appreciated for the moments in time they captured. I no longer look for physical glimpses of my parents in my children but instead I look for the quality's my parents instilled in me that I'm passing on to them. And most importantly I am teaching them who they are in Christ, so that there identity is always rooted in Him.
Got to buzz, I've books to read with my little pastries.