Peace in the Process

I was going to share a post about the Thanksgiving holiday today. I had it written up in my notebook, ready to type up and add a cute graphic. I changed my mind when I saw Kristin Hill Taylor’s book, Peace in the Process, kindle version is free today! I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to support another adoptive parent and author.

Kristin runs an online support group that I belong to. She is an encourager and an activist for adoptive parents. She rocks.

This is her story of the heartache of infertility followed by the blessing of adoption! She found peace in the process. ❤️ Also, weaved into her book are little writings of other adoptive Moms (including me).😍Get your copy today!

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(Click on image to go to Amazon and grab your free Kindle copy!)

Here’s my excerpt from her book: Make sure you get your copy to read Kristin’s story and hear from other Moms like me!

 

In Their Words :: Kathleen Guire

Adopting an older child is like reading a novel from the middle instead of the beginning. We parents enter in the middle of the story. The child, or children in my case, have a history. Their history usually has trauma. Child development expert Dr. Karyn Purvis calls referred to them, as “children from hard places.”

My children were just that; they didn’t have a picture-perfect beginning. They had two years of orphanage living under their belts to boot. When my four adopted children “came home” from Poland to the Guire household in West Virginia, they had nothing to their names, physically, but so much emotional baggage that it barely fit through the doorway. These beautiful, half-written stories entered our household with their survival mode in full swing.

My three biological children were learning the language of grace as my adopted children learned the language of family. It was an interesting dance. Some days it flowed like milk and honey in the Promised Land and other days we seemed to be lost in the wilderness. But we persevered. We laughed and cried together. We fought the demons of their pasts linked arm in arm and often fist to fist.

What does adoption look like later? With sixteen years of our forever family behind us and most of my children grown into adults, I’d say it looks good on the Guires.

My bios have come to me and thanked me for adopting. It has given them a sensitivity to pain in others they would not have had otherwise. When one son took a job in a homeless shelter, he had compassion built in from early life that poured out of him into relationships he formed there. The residents could tell he cared.

My adopted children have thanked me, all but the youngest (give him time). Truth be told, I didn’t adopt for a showering of thanksgiving. I did it to build a forever family. However, it is a true sign of maturity and healing my children – all of my children – recognize the gift of adoption. It is the gift of grace offered one day, healing another and daily dying to self. Isn’t that what family is?

Kathleen Guire is a mother of seven, writer, teacher, and encourager who blogs at thewholehouse.org.

Peace in the Process and Thanksgiving!

kristin hill taylor head shotKristin Taylor is guest posting today, visiting from kristinhilltaylor.com. Kristin is the author of Peace in the Process

The same year my middle-child Ben was born and adopted into our family, our small group from church started a tradition. I’m not sure we knew it was going to be a tradition, but this group – equal parts kids and adults – gathered around a table for a Thanksgiving meal.

That was 2009. And, actually, Greg and I didn’t get to go because Ben was born on that Monday afternoon. We brought him home Tuesday afternoon, just hours before they had our first Thanksgiving. Not only did we not go, but my friend Sarah – who had a boy just shy of a month old – made the green bean casserole I was supposed to bring. And then our friends brought us plates overflowing with delicious food. We weren’t at the actual table with them that first year, but we were with them and they were with us.

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Community works that way.

Four years later, we still gathered around the table for a Thanksgiving meal, and it was when I broke out my china plates for the first time. For more than eleven years, that china has been sitting around, supposedly waiting for a “special occasion.” Truth be told, I was persuaded to register for the china and really wouldn’t regret had I not added it. But I have it. And I decided having it sit there was pointless.

Really, everyday community is a special occasion.

We’re not technically in an official small group with these people, but they are our community. Together, we’ve mourned and prayed and dreamed and hoped and planned and played and cheered and cried and laughed.

My girlfriends even washed, by hand, the china plates I probably would have put in the dishwasher. They’re into the ordinary details like that. They’re helpful like that. We’re in this life together like that.

In 2013, I snapped a picture of the nine kids who ranged in age from seven months to seven years and were gathered for the Fifth Annual Thanksgiving with Friends. I noticed Ben being part of the group in his school uniform, little blue shirt. He was a day old when this group first gathered around a table, literally, to give thanks for how we gather around the table, figuratively, with each other in our daily lives. He’s grown up knowing those other kids who surround him on the couch and their parents. He’s grown up in community.

In 2016, the kid contingent had grown to eleven for our Eighth Annual Thanksgiving with Friends. I still didn’t have a clever name for the gathering, but we still had each other, even though one family had moved several hours away. That was the year we traded the china for paper plates – and nobody cared.

God made Greg, Cate, Ben, Rachel, and me a family. But He’s expanded our family because we’re part of His family.

Truth be told, this community amazes me. God built community around me with these families and others when I wondered if it would happen. He surprised us with community in a town I wasn’t sure would be able to offer us new friends. Some friends have moved. Other friendships have changed with the normal rhythm of life. We’ve made new friends and kept the old.

 

Thankfully, that community continues to happen right here around my table.
*This is an excerpt from Kristin Hill Taylor’s new book, “Peace in the Process: How Adoption Built My Faith & My Family.” Kristin believes in seeking God as the author of every story and loves swapping these stories with friends on her porch. She lives in Murray, Kentucky, with her husband and three kids and shares stories at kristinhilltaylor.com.

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Book link – bit.ly/PeaceInTheProcess