The Call

As you may remember, adoption has popped up on our radar again. I've been seriously thinking about and looking into adoption for several weeks. There are some things that I really love about adoption, and other things that continue to make me a little nervous. I'm just being honest. None of these things seal the deal one way or another; I'm trying to be exceptionally open and think through adoption (and all of our next step opportunities) from the most unbiased view I possibly can. As I've been reading books on adoption, I keep getting hung up on one thing. Really it's one phrase, one idea: "called to adopt".

"Called to adopt" gets tossed around in the midst of all types of books; books on saving for adoption, books on fundraising for adoption, books on adoption processes. I wouldn't say that I particularly feel "called to adopt". I've been interested in adoption for more than a decade. I have pictured a family with both biological and adopted kids for most of my adult like. I've wanted to adopt for a long time, but I'm not so sure that I've been called. I'm pretty sure this is a strictly Christian ideology (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) as it sounds pretty close to the idea of being "called into ministry." As a teenager and college student I struggled with that phrase as well. I certainly wanted to work in ministry, but I couldn't pinpoint a time in my life when I'd heard or felt God direct me towards ministry. Because of that, I decided not to pursue ministry as a career path, but rather to hope opportunities might arise later in my life in which I could leverage my gifts for something I really valued.

I once heard Andy Stanley speak on the very same subject, on being called into ministry. He says that he never felt called. He doesn't dispute that other people feel called, but simply that he never heard or felt the prompt to follow in his father's footsteps. And yet, I think it's pretty undeniable that Andy Stanley has done great things during his time in ministry. The Lord has surely blessed him, his family, and his church. Andy's story certainly calls into question whether a "call" is required. As he states it, he simply decided to volunteer.

I started reading a book, Adopted for Life. I picked it up downloaded it because it seemed to make the claim that as Christians, we've ALL been called to adoption. Maybe not everyone has to actually adopt a child, but we've all been commanded to "look after orphans and widows in their distress" (James 1:27). This idea really appeals to me. It's not about a call, it's about a command. 

There are some parts of the book that I really like, and then there are some parts of the book that I absolutely hate. I know that there are a few other bloggers out there (and maybe some lurkers) who are looking into adoption for the first time. With that in mind, I decided to do a quick book review so you'll know if this book is worth diving into.

 Adopted for Life: The Priority of Adoption for Christian Families and Churuches

by: Russell D. Moore

In case it wasn't abundantly clear from the title, this book has a specific target audience of Christians. This is not a book about adopting, as in it doesn't tell you how to adopt, but rather why you should adopt (or contribute towards adoptions) if you're a Christian. I'd love to say that the book could be read by anyone, but really, I don't think anyone other than Christians would enjoy the book. (As a Christian, I'm not sure I enjoyed the book. See below.)

The Good: Russell Moore has a story a lot like mine. He and his wife struggled to conceive. Russell admits that he didn't initially want to adopt because he wanted his "own kids". I really appreciate that type of honesty because I think the biological connection is a big sticking point for a lot of people. His transparency regarding his initial fear and his reluctance to follow his wife into adoption are both important to his story and his argument. He claims that adoption is not just for those who have warm and fuzzy feelings when thinking about orphans in another country, it's also for the realist, for the pragmatist, for the doubter.

Even though he has children now (four total), he still mourns the loss of his fist three children. This really resonates with me. He writes, "infertility isn't good. Miscarriages are evil. Death is horrible. I don't shrug my shoulders in resignation at those things. I lost three children, children I'll never know until resurrection morning." I know that pain intimately and appreciate that he still gets it. He does have a bit of that "all will turn out right" attitude that I personally just can't drum up these days, but I think that comes from being out of the trenches. I've witnessed it within my own friends who have resolved. The important thing to me is that he doesn't diminish the pain he and his wife went through. He admits the pain, the grief, the frustration, and the fear. I appreciate that vulnerability.

He doesn't recommend adoption as the "solution" to infertility. Infertile couples often hear that we should adopt because so-and-so decided to adopt and they got pregnant. He writes, "if you're thinking about adoption as a way of bargaining with God, as though He'll repay you for your adoption with 'kids of your own' later, then put adoption aside. Your potential children need parents-- not to be a pawn in someone's attempt to manipulate the Almighty." Amen, and amen. I think I should have that line printed on index cards to hand out when people recommend adoption "because everyone knows when you adopt..."

His ultimate argument is that the Church, as a whole, should be pro-adoption. We should of course be adopting children in need, but he also argues that the Church should be contributing towards foster care, visiting foreign orphanages, raising money when a church member adopts, supporting adoptive parents, giving aid to birth mothers, etc. I love his overall argument.

The Bad: He likes groups and he assigns people boxes and labels. He spends a large part of the book discussing how Roman Catholics feel about "X" or how pagans (his word, not mine) think about "Y". I personally really hate labels, particularly within the Church. The dramatic simplification that all Baptists think this way and all Lutherans think that way is obnoxious to me. I spent my early years as a Roman Catholic, by choice switched to Baptist, and now consider myself non-denominational... and while yes, I would agree that my time within each denomination has certainly affected and infiltrated my beliefs, I'm also my own person, with my own set of beliefs and I've never once agreed completely with one group. He also makes broad generalizations in order to make a point. He also makes assumptions about groups of people. He regularly postulates that all children raised in foreign orphanages will grow to be prostitutes, drug addicts, or commit suicide. Now I'm sure that the odds of that type of life are higher for an 18 year old leaving a Russian orphanage for the first time than a middle class American teen, BUT it's not a guarantee. He also assumes that ALL social workers are not Christian and that they are against placing children in Christian homes... I have no idea where this belief comes from, but he brings up social workers and demonizes them as a group multiple times. The group thing is just not necessary. 

He is an extremely opinionated man, which is fine. I'm an extremely opinionated woman. However, his writing comes across a little self righteous at some points, which I don't think is the best tone when trying to convince someone to think like you. Everyone who already believes as he does will be fist pumping and nodding right along, but the people whom he's trying to convince probably shrink back at his word choice a few times... I know I did. His language has the potential to offend readers right into putting his book back on the shelf if they don't already agree. This is unfortunate because I think his overall argument and his story are worth sharing.

The Ugly: That self righteous attitude really rears its ugly head during one chapter. Interestingly enough, it's the chapter directed to couples struggling with infertility. If this guy hadn't admitted to infertility himself, I'd shake my head and say "fertiles just don't get it," but the fact that he does get it means he has no excuse. Essentially he rips anyone who pursues IVF. He views it as highly unethical and incredibly immoral to do IVF, even if you don't discard embryos, even if you use all your embryos, even if you don't freeze embryos... it's all wrong to him. The kicker for me was that his rationale centers around "designer babies". He argues that IVF opens up all these options and avenues that couples might walk down because they are hurting, because they are desperate. I really had to force myself to keep reading. I wanted to stop reading and start writing him a letter: "Dear Sir, did you even ask any IVF couples if they care about blue eyes, or intelligent genes?" I guarantee you, this is NOT the reason infertile couples pursue IVF. Maybe fertile couples turn to IVF for things like that, but not infertile couples. Sam and I wouldn't care one bit if our kid had two different colored eyes. We are most certainly not trying to isolate our favorite traits... we're trying to have a freaking baby. I have not met a single couple concerned with anything beyond a healthy baby. I've admitted that I have ethical questions that swirl around IVF, but my issues have never been from fear of designer babies populating the earth. He is perpetuating a myth. He writes, "the galloping forward of such technologies means we may one day see a world in which only Christians have Down's syndrome babies in their strollers, only Christians have bald little girls fighting through chemotherapy, only Christians have little boys in "husky"- size pants struggling against childhood obesity." I want to respond, "Dear Sir, you think far too highly of Christians and far too negatively of anyone who doesn't think exactly like you."

Not only is he opposed to IVF, but he's also opposed to donor egg, donor sperm, and surrogacy. He writes, "unlike adoption, wherein the third party already exists, these means intentionally set out to make such a situation." I agree with the statement... It's exactly what I was talking about in my post, Hard Choices. The third party aspect makes things complicated, there's no doubt. Anyone thinking about pursuing any of those options needs to consider a lot of factors. But that's my point; the choices are hard. We should all weigh the good and bad things about any family building option, but they all have negative aspects, including adoption. His argument lacks authority because he refuses to acknowledge any issues surrounding adoption, and refuses to look openly at any other reproductive options.

The ultimate last straw for me was when he wrote, "but think about the very way we speak of these children [IVF babies]. They are 'used.' They are 'produced.' This is not a pattern of life as a gift given to us by our God." Umm, no. I really want to say, "Dear Sir, please check yourself before you wreck yourself... or more appropriately before thousands of mamas of IVF babies maul your face off." IVF is not bigger than the God I serve... he's not allowing a new race of people to populate the earth. We're not two groups; we're all just people. And the fact that a little boy was created in a petri dish and was transferred into his mother's loving womb as a grade 2BC blastocyst doesn't make him any less loved or valuable to his earthly parents or his Heavenly Father. If Mr. Russell actually believes that IVF children are not gifts from God, he gives far to much credit to science and he's placed his God in far too small of a box.

So, should you read the book? Well, I really think there are some valuable parts. His story of adopting his two sons from Russia is a beautiful story of redemption and rescue. It's exactly the kind of story we love to hear about adoption. I also think he raises some really interesting and valid points about adoption: things about transracial adoption, or adopting without the support of parents or inlaws, and even going into debt for adoption. There were certainly some spots where I felt like my toes had been stepped on, but in a good way. He makes you think about the family dynamic, and how we view adopted children vs biological children. It's a really good read in those spots. So if you're interested in an interesting, philosophical, and theological discussion on caring for orphans in the present day and what that looks like, by all means read the book. Maybe just skip Chapter Four, less you believe I did IVF in order to have a 6'6", star athlete, with an IQ of 125, with leaf green eyes and chestnut brown hair.

Like I said, I really like how he explains "the call"...  we've all been called to care for orphans. However, even after explaining that view, he himself still slips in a few "if you've been called to adopt" and "if you feel called". I guess ultimately it's just a phrase, and my hangups with the phrase won't keep me from reading, researching, investigating, or potentially pursuing adoption.