There is a part of our journey that we intentionally left
out of our previous blogs. As I (Dave) have been reflecting, I realized the
past few years have played an important part in why our adoption is important
for us personally, and felt the need to share.
The opportunity for us to adopt arrived at the tail end of
the hardest year of our married life. Some might not know this, but up until
last year I had been working as a youth pastor for 7 years. In 2012 I accepted
a new position at a rural Manitoba church. We sold our house, moved closer to
the community and entered this new chapter of our life with joy and
anticipation. 7 months later this position ended after nearly destroying us
both. It has taken months of counseling for me to be able to formulate and
understand what happened.
I can say now (for the first time publicly) I was
manipulated, abused, beaten down, publicly humiliated, pushed out, and lied to
in the name of dysfunctional church politics and heavy legalism. We left the
church with little to no sense of self worth and a loss of identity that left
us close to divorce. I can remember praying together with Jen that we would
find a place where we could genuinely serve and give in to a social context as
a couple, something we were ready for after 8 years of marriage. We were
devastated when this did not happen, and broken over a feeling that we did not
belong and had little worthwhile to offer.
It was easy in response to become defensive, angry and
spiteful (and to my shame I did). It heightens your insecurities and breaks
down your ability to trust. It makes you cynical of church, people and life in
general. It makes you vulnerable to hurting others in exchange as well. I have discovered
through the process of healing that the voices of this experience reached much
broader than this particular church. In my own life they resonate from the
struggle to emerge from the long shadows of a family of strong, type A leaders.
They linger from years of growing up in a highly competitive evangelical church
environment. It remains in the hallways of my junior high school where I was
beat up and bullied, and in the warehouse where senior workers had little
patience for a young guy looking to learn their methods.
The voices persist as
I try to rebuild an identity through personal interests and passions that feel
forever overshadowed by those who are more educated, better writers, better
musicians, more adverse theologians, more politically responsive and socially
aware, better animal care givers, better husband/son/brother, better youth
leaders than I will likely ever be.
When you struggle with a lack of self-confidence, any sort
of social/professional rejection gets compounded in its ability to impact your
life negatively. It highlights obstacles to social acceptance, such as getting
married later than most of your peers (and for some not at all, and still
others wrestling with divorce), struggling with severe anxiety and depression,
struggling with self image and weight, the feeling we have failed to live up to
societal pressures of what it means to be a true man/woman, struggles with
faith, struggles of staying in the church, and ultimately the struggle with
infertility. In truth we have many who care for and support us on our journey,
and we are forever grateful for that. With family and friends we know that we
are not alone. But the truth of our challenge, which I have also found in the shared
story of others, has more to do with the struggle of “feeling” alone. This
feeling flows out of an inward guilt over not being “more” than we were
supposed to be, however far down this guilt might be buried. It is a persistent
feeling that often flies in the face of our reality despite our efforts to
change it.
Social identity comes from balancing the ability to give and to serve and to receive in to a social setting in a meaningful way. When life deviates from perceived social norms it tends to throw this out of balance. It leaves one fighting for the kind of relationships and social/professional success that appear to come naturally to others. When one adds to this picture a degree of social or professional rejection (that often comes from having to try too hard to), it becomes nothing short of a daily struggle to simply choose to reenter the competitive world with confidence. It is easier to simply isolate oneself from a world that continues to remind you of what you are not.
I have found answers to the struggle of loneliness and
isolation in a number of different worldviews. Popular atheism and traditional
religion have both left me with a similar sense of guilt for not “being” more
than I was supposed to be or not “being” able to live up to (any forms) of a
“survival of the fittest” mentality. After leaving the church I had an
opportunity to return to seminary to finish my masters.
I wrote one of my major
papers on the word ‘adoption’ in the first century world. Adoption has allowed
me to look at life through a different lens. The only one to use the term in
Christian scripture was the apostle Paul, and he borrows it from its legal and
political context as a way of defining and making sense of his experience with
this man named Jesus. At the heart of his experience is recognizing how the
Gospel (which declares this Jesus to be both man and God) directly addresses
issues of belonging and social isolation. Adoption as a legal/political
practice represented the burden of living up to social expectations and
honoring the family name. Adoption as a Christian experience represented the
freedom “from” these expectations: two different approaches to “belonging” and
“being” in the world. Through learning about the process and definition of
adoption I have come to see three things:
1. Life is messy and seemingly unfair despite my efforts to control it
2. My faith in God is still relevant even when I felt it wasn’t
3. There is hope to be found in reclaiming an identity as a
couple who has something to give in the midst of our social struggles and loss
of identity.
Our current adoption from the Ukraine has been one long
legal process that never seems to end. And yet as time moves forward, adoption
as a ‘Christian’ idea keeps
pressing further in to view. It is a journey that we can claim as our own
instead of feeling like we are stuck comparing ourselves to the success of
others. It has become a crucial part of rebuilding our identity together. And
we can do this understanding that it is not just about our “choice” to “place”
(two words at the heart of Paul’s “huiothesa”) our child in to a new family,
but rather about the opportunity to see God’s choice to place us with a new found
freedom to both give and to receive in to a social context despite how we might
feel we measure up to others.
*I have edited and
cut and paste a portion of my essay and attached it with this blog. It was
written as both a paper and a sermon. I tried to take out the quotes and
references so that it didn’t get bogged down as an academic paper, and fused
it with the sermon, so it will come across as a bit choppy. If you feel you
would find worth in reading through it, please feel free to do that. At the
risk of extending an already overly long post, I simply wanted to post it as an
add on.
To read it simply click on the title "adoption thesis" that should be located on the right hand bar of the home page (beside this blog).
To read it simply click on the title "adoption thesis" that should be located on the right hand bar of the home page (beside this blog).
7 comments:
Given the sensitive nature of this blog entry, I wanted to note that the description of my church experience is not so much important as a label that the "church" needs to carry, as much as it is an important part of our own journey that "we" need to carry in moving forward
Dave and Jen your journey, though so incredibly painful, is such an inspiration to those who are struggling with similar emotion and events. It gives hope that though people fail, God doesn't. It reveals to me the incredible gift of compassion that He has continued to grow in you. I am so very sorry for the pain inflicted on you through the name of God. It happens. It is wrong. I am equally amazed at how God is using this journey to reveal Himself to you and through you. ((hugs))
thank you lois. we continue to appreciate you very much
dave and jen
A very courageous and vulnerable post. There are many of us who would like to stand in and say how sorry we are for the abuse and devaluing that occurred in your last church experience. It did not, and never will, represent the heart of the Father. His plan for you is to give you hope and a future filled with success and blessing. May the Lord continue to strengthen you in your journey of forgiveness and rebuilding. May He shower your hearts with joy as He unfolds His plans for your family. Hugs and Prayers from us both. Uncle Carl and Aunt Ruth
Thank you Ruth.
Dave. Thanks for your vulnerability. Reading this was a gift. There are so many ways in which I look up to you. The depth and character that shines through these words are one of them. Through some incredibly well crafted words, you have given me a very gripping glimpse into your journey. Thanks for risking and being willing to write this.
Jon
Thanks Jon
(Dave)
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