I waited outside the door. My foster children would soon finish their visit with their parents. It had been a month since the kids had been removed. This was their first visit. I had never met the parents, despite two of the three siblings having been my students.
The door opened and the kids burst wildly into the hall. āLook what they brought me!ā the youngest said. I felt the awkwardness of the connection that he had with me, in the midst of his parents being there.
Then SHE walked out the door. She was six feet tall with tattoos on her skin and gauges in her ears. We were conspicuously different.
As the months passed, I watched the kidsā pain and confusion. āWhy donāt our parents love us enoughā¦?ā Promises were made and broken and I was left to pick up the pieces. There were failed drug tests, missed visits, and arrests.
I was angry. Indeed, why didnāt they love the kids enough to make progress? Why hadnāt they set boundaries for the kids, made them read, and made them brush their teeth? They hadnāt protected them from harm.
When the termination of parental rights became inevitable, the parents signed over their parental rights, knowing that I had agreed to adopt the kids and would care for them.
I was eager for these kids I already loved to become my sons and daughter.Ā I wanted to give them a stable home, where they didnāt have to ask, āAre we going to have dinner tonight?ā I wanted them to continue to have to make their beds ā because they actually had beds. I looked forward to giving them new experiences and showing them the many possibilities open to them.
I became āMomā to three more kids and now they had a pair of ābirth parents.ā Visits continued, sporadically.
When both parents ended up in prison for long sentences, I secretly rejoiced. Now the kids wouldnāt feel confused about my role as their mom. I would get them all to myself. I didnāt want to share.
Written communication also ceased when serious questions about past events surfaced. I knew the parents were in prison, but not where. When it began to look like the birth mother was not connected to those past events, I still didnāt look for her.
But, Godā¦
Someone close to me chose adoption. I saw her pain and my thoughts turned to the birth mother of my younger kids. I thought of her loss and how she didnāt even know how the kids were doing or how theyād changed.
Still, I was afraid of renewing contact. I knew this would mean sharing and loss of control.
God kept working. Relentlessly He kept nudging me. I was reminded that itās healthy for adopted kids to stay in contact with their birth families. My daughter talked about missing her birth mom. God directed my thoughts to trust Him. He changed my heart, one step at a time.
I found the birth momās location. The kids and I wrote to her. The letters began flowing both ways. The birth mom and I continued writing to each other, getting to know each other. She was off drugs. She explained how God turned her to Himself in prison.Ā Hearing from us was an answer to her prayers.
Two months later, I visited her in prison. Then I took the kids. She looked each one in the eyes and apologized for letting them down and not being the mom she should have been. She asked for their forgiveness. She reminded the kids that I am their mom now and that my adoption of them was a good thing.
I watched in amazement. I was seeing healing and redemption happen and God had privileged me with a front row seat.
Subsequent visits were sometimes with the kids and sometimes I visited alone. Ā The ābirth momā was now a real person to me ā not a label but a name, āAnnie.ā Ā I watched God bring us together and make us into friends. The way God has worked is incredible.
Sixteen months after renewed contact, it came time for her release. How that would look had been on my mind for months. On one of those last pre-release visits, Annie asked if she would be able to attend our church. I explained that I was still trying to figure out what would be best for the kids. I then spoke words I never would have expected to come from my mouth ā āI love you friend. Iām not trying to shut you out.ā
There are many days that I still look back and am in awe. This is Godās story. He CAN change hearts, heal the broken, bring redemption, and form friendships that donāt make sense.
Angela Leffel is a teacher and single mom with four adopted kids, one of whom is now an adult. She enjoys heart sharing with friends, especially over a cup of coffee. She feels closest to God and most at peace when in a forest. She shares what God is teaching her here.
Beautiful words. Beautiful heart. I love you and your story, Friend. Thank you for sharing your writing here. š
Thank you, friend. You have been a big help to me in supporting me and helping me process through my feelings on this part of my journey.
Extraordinary! Love stories like this of supernatural Love, forgiveness and redemption!
Dear Angela,
Thank you for sharing this incredible story. It brought tears to my eyes. The forgiveness, transformation, and redemption that has taken place is miraculous. I admire your bravery and your huge heart. My son is adopted from China. He is six now and we are having more frequent conversations around the dinner table about where he is from and the idea of birth parents. I don’t think he understands it all yet and it pains me that he/we will never know his birth mom, and that she will never know him. He will always have a question mark about his history and identity. He is a miracle that God brought into my life. I look at him and marvel and I feel sad for what his parents have had to miss and grateful I get to hold such a sacred role in his life. The whole thing is loaded with the tension between sadness and joy. Adoption is a miraculous journey, and everyone’s path is a little different. Thank you for taking the time to share your story. It truly touched me!
Carry On ā¤ļø Libby.
Thank you for responding and sharing a bit of your story here. There was a time when I would have been jealous of the fact that your son’s birth parents are not in the picture. God has taught me a lot. Yes, tension and joy are a big part of any adoption. Somebody lost for someone else to gain. It is a blessing that my kids can have a relationship with their birth mom. Even in this, there is still tension though, and questions about how this will all turn out in the end. Thank you for acknowledging that this stepping into the unknown takes bravery.
As a foster and now an adoptive mom I think that you are bold and courageous. We were part of a multi family sibling adoption and keep contact with the birth siblings, and occasionally mom. This hard work that you’re describing and so few words represents so much heart work. It matters to the kids. It matters to my heart
Thank you for your kind comments and affirmation. Yes, much heart work!
Hello…you are one special lady assigned a marvelous gift from God. You have received His gift with so much love and goodness. Thank you for writing and offering your heart in ways that feel so kind and redemptive. Blessings to you, dear one and those so close to your heartšMJ
Thank you, Mary Jane. When I first reached out to Annie, all I could see for me was loss. Stepping out in faith, I have been honored to see how God has worked and brought such good things.