After eight months in our home, I am thrilled to share that this past week, we adopted our sweet boy into our family. The adoption hearing took place over Zoom; when I found out the judge arranged the hearing this way, I was disappointed. It felt anti-climactic to adopt over a screen. But, surrounded by friends and family in our home – and joined by my brother and his family from afar – we logged on and walked through a special morning full of joy, tears, delicious food, and lots of photos.
The Gift of Permanence
I’ve been chewing on the idea of permanence – and what that means for him and for us. He is fully a Snyder, fully our son. No one can take that away from him. There are no lingering questions or waiting periods. No more random documents we have to get notarized right away. No more home visits. No more wondering what could happen or thinking through eventualities. No more explaining to the airline why we don’t have a birth certificate. We get to use permanent words without any hesitation – ones we hadn’t previously used in our only-child home – words like: brother, sister, children, kids, son. Though, I wonder at some point if TJ will need to mourn the idea that a relationship with his bio family won’t be possible for him. Because of his situation, he will never know his biological parents’ identity. Permanence, then, allows us to walk through that process with him, to be fully present and available over the course of decades, and provide him with the resources to form and claim his identity, his story.
Position
TJ’s position is forever changed; during his adoption hearing, the judge declared it is now “as if he was born to us biologically.” His name is changed – from an assigned alias to his given name, the one we’ve been using all along, the one he adorably turns his head to when called. He has all the rights and obligations of a biological child. He has a birthright – he can fully claim his inheritance and identity. He’s entitled to take part in what it means to be a Snyder, a Futrell, a member of the Center Point Community Church family, and a part of the Naples Christian Academy community. He will certainly continue to be immersed in all those cultural realities: family camping at Caloosahatchee Regional Park, hiking in Acadia, listening to the Lord of the Rings trilogy on family road trips, AWANA and family dinner on Wednesday nights, mountain biking trips, staying after school for staff meetings, cheering on his sister at track meets, playing in the cul-de-sac with neighbor kids before dinner, sneaking extra donuts on Sunday mornings between church services, Christmas Eve in Victoria Park, and countless other rhythms.
His position is clear, but he may need to grapple with our family culture and grow into it as he gets older. He is – and is becoming – a Snyder; it’s the now and the not yet working hand in hand. We see that with biological children, certainly – they assume family culture and identity, and they help form it. With foster and adopted children (depending on the age and situation), it may take more time, it may involve fight or flight response loops, and a level of questioning and processing. We’re here for it.
We don’t get to choose our children’s talents, abilities, or passions. We get to discover them in the context of family culture. It’s exciting and nerve-wracking. As a parent, I want to encourage my children to discover and develop their gifts. As they mature, I want them to be able to answer questions like: “Where do my heart’s passions meet the world’s need?” or “What doesn’t feel like hard work, even though it really, really is?” One of the secrets of being a great parent is sharing my kids’ passions. You’re suddenly into sharks? “Let’s check out all the books we can about them and learn together!” Interested in chess? “Okay, let’s play every afternoon!” When we demonstrate interest, we weave trust and relationship and excitement and joy into the fabric of our homes. My goal is to make our home the place our kids love the most – a place they want to be more than anywhere else.
When we thought and prayed about becoming a foster family a little over a year ago, our ultimate goal was to open our home and invite vulnerable children in; we want to use our resources, live with open hands, and hold nothing back. To provide safety and joy, to meet the needs of our community, and to demonstrate – in tangible ways – the love of God. Even though we have no open beds right now and aren’t able to take any foster placements for the next few years, we still have these same goals. When we open our home to others, we want them to feel comfortable and safe so that they can set their burdens aside, eat delicious food, and take joy in relationships. So, adopting our son isn’t the end of the road. It’s a continuation of who we’ve been all along. And it’s just the beginning for him. If only you knew, dear TJ, all the rejoicing to welcome you! Happy Adoption Day!
Read the other installments in Anna’s fostering journey here.