Grieving Our Children’s Choices

I could see that my husband was in agony. His heart was breaking from rejection. Again.

In 2008, we attended the first Wait No More Conference held by Focus on the Family. We had no idea how our lives would be changed forever on that day. Walking up the aisle after the final presentation, my husband tearfully told me, “That’s unacceptable.”

He was referring to the onslaught of images of older children pictured on the big screen. David, entered foster care at nine, now 15, still waiting. Meghan, entered at 7, now 13, still waiting. Amber, entered at 10, now 17, still waiting. Jeremiah, entered at 4, now 16, still waiting. Still waiting. STILL WAITING.

As a storyteller, I know this presentation was meant to stir hearts for the plight of the orphan. It was specifically designed to expose the plight of fatherless children in the American foster care system. It worked. Perhaps too well, as would later be reported by the surge of adoptions and then the outcry of challenges derived from said adoptions. Adopting older kids is very hard and requires intense special training in order to manage almost impossible behaviors at times. It’s not for the faint-hearted.

We were not faint-hearted individuals. Naïve, maybe, but lacking drive to do what’s right – NO.

My husband sat slumped in the seat of our new minivan. The kids are all out of our home, we sold everything, and left on an RV trip last June. But what did we do? Came back home and bought a minivan instead of the sporty car just so we could help out. It’s in our blood.

I listened as my husband shared his discouragement over one of our children’s recent decisions. How many times have we been at this very same place? Too many.

The pain seems unbearable at times. We opened up our hearts and our home to three older children in need of a loving home. We’ve showed them how to live life differently from that of their original parents, who each had their own mental health struggles and personal addictions. These challenges didn’t develop overnight. They took years to manifest in these men and women who eventually chose self-preservation over raising their own kids.

We don’t want this outcome for our precious children. We continue to encourage each one that the choices they make now, at 18, 19, and 20, will indeed affect the trajectory of their adult lives. Choices have a snowball effect. One leads to another and another and another until there is no turning back, short of a miraculous and life-changing encounter.

How do we cope with the tremendous grief?

There is no guarantee for any parent. As much as a new mother and father are excited to have their "mini-me", there simply is no child that has turned out just like their father or mother in every way. And I say, “That’s a good thing!”

Our children expose our own faults and shortcomings. Perhaps that’s why the grief is so deep. We realize that some of the very things we did growing up, are the same things our children are doing – in their own way of course.

We may have corrected our path a little differently, or earlier, but regardless the same hard choices have been made. And without correction, bad choices will tip towards a pattern of constant destruction.

My heart goes out to our trio. I don’t agree with all their decisions, but I do understand the confusion. Just imagine having six or more sets of parents. Each home you enter has a different set of rules and standards to follow. Then add in six or more school districts with a variety of teachers. Toss in some caseworkers, therapists, and other specialists. How do you figure out which way is the right way to live? Some methods look easier than others, even when the destination will eventually lead to downfall.

My husband was silent as we sat parked in front of the grocery store. It was one of our few spots of total privacy, since we live in someone else’s home at the moment. I sat in my own grief, overwhelmed by the desire to fix things, but recognizing our interference would not provide lasting relief.

The current situation is beyond our control. So, we let out a big sigh and take in another deep breath. All those special techniques taught to our children in therapy – they work on us too. It’s going to be okay. We will get through this moment. “This too shall pass,” as Grandma might say.

If you’re a parent struggling with your child’s choices, you aren’t alone. We encourage you to pray over the situation, talk to a trustworthy individual, and be patient. There is no promise things will turn around, but we can always be available for love and support when the opportunity arises.