The Day I Met Royalty

It seems fitting that I write a blog about my daughters' arrival in light of the recent blog about my son, Cruz. This is the story of the day I met two princesses who turned my world into one of fairies, hair bows, and a constant battle for Cruz and I do do anything manly...

Two weeks before we finalized Cruz's adoption, we received a phone call from Social Services regarding a sibling group of two girls who would soon be available for adoption. They were looking for a home that was open to a minority placement, and our file came up. A year or so previously, we had added that to our file since there had been an influx of Hispanic children to state custody. I told the social worker that I'd have to return her call as my wife and I were planning to finalize Cruz's adoption and take a break from resource parenting in order to try and have a biological child.

Ashley and I had planned to adopt Cruz, have a few children of our own, then adopt again far down the road. We had just purchased a small new home that we intended to outgrow over a few years. Adopting again wasn't going to be our plan for another 5-10 years. After all, we wanted children of our own too.

I spoke with Ashley the first chance I got. I filled her in on the information I had about the girls. Two sisters, half Hispanic, 14 months and 2 and 1/2 years old, adoption placement. That was a huge burden. We knew this. It was impractical, and from the perspective of secular wisdom, it wasn't a good choice for us to pursue at the time. However, our hearts said differently. With our minds, we thought, "How?" With our hearts, we silently said, "Yes."

We decided to pray about it. We prayed together. We prayed separately. We talked and looked at all the pros and cons. We discussed the practicality of it and how it would affect Cruz, our families, and our lives. But in all the discussion, our hearts pleaded their case. So, rather than to simply discuss whether or not we should take them, and rather than discuss whether or not we could take them, we simply asked God to confirm in us which course was obedient. We came to the conclusion that it wasn't a matter of should or could, but of obedience. "Lord, not our will, but yours. Not with our understanding, but with your wisdom."

After prayer and reflection, we knew that God had put this desire in our hearts. We were delighting in Christ, and our steps began to show brightly. I returned the call and explain that after talking and praying, we would accept the placement. We were told that drop off would be scheduled after Cruz's adoption as the state does not allow placement of a child during adoption proceeding. We had 2 weeks.

We could not wait. And at the same time, we could. We were nervous, apprehensive, jittery...scared. Cruz was 3 when we got him. These girls were 14 months and 2 and 1/2. We needed to get our house ready, fast...2 weeks fast. We didn't have 9 months of preparation or years to get each kid accustomed to our home, our schedule, our ways, our expectations. We were taking a leap from zero kids to 3 kids, 4 and under, in a matter of a year and 3 months. Only God could have given us the strength it was going to take to adjust to this life.

The day of Cruz's adoption I was so full of emotion, I didn't know how to act. The adoption was that morning, lunch with family, and I was going back to work for the afternoon. The girls were to be dropped off that afternoon. The day was full of emotions and I rode them, highs and lows, all day. In retrospect, the $50 I was making for half a days work really wasn't all that worth it for roller coaster I was on. After I clocked out, I walked, quite awkwardly, to my car. I couldn't decide whether to move quickly or to move slowly. I spent the whole day thinking I needed to use the bathroom because of my nerves. I got in my car, crossed the railroad tracks behind the bank, and headed home.

I pulled in to my driveway and realized that I didn't want to move slowly at all. I wanted to run inside and look at the girls that God had sent us. I had never met them, and only had two weeks to prepare for the idea of being a dad to three, but I could not wait to see them and hold them and love them.

I walked in from the garage and there they were: two princesses, at the table, shirtless and covered head to toe in spaghetti. Both were smiling and squealing. My mom was sitting at the table too, also covered in spaghetti. Ashley was running around looking busy, but I think she was just nervous and afraid to sit down. She gets extremely productive when she is anxious, and this was enough to keep us both on our toes. I immediately became productive too as I wasn't sure what to do. How do you act? Do I pick them up and say, "I'll be dad, this is mom, this is your brother, this is Grandmama, and this is your new home." They were small and didn't know us. They were covered in spaghetti and I didn't want to be dirty (yeah, don't laugh..we were new to the parenting thing).

Eventually, my mom went home, and we were left with them alone. This time was even more awkward than the day we got Cruz. They didn't want to go to bed, they cried, they screamed, they took over our house. We laid in bed that night silently. For the next few weeks, we constantly asked each other, "Are we doing the right thing?"

It was hard, and rarely fun. They were needy, strong-willed, and had Cruz in a tizzy fighting for attention. For the next six months, we went to bed tired, ugly, and nearly surrendered. But during that time, God began to foster a love in us that we hadn't known before, a love in me that was very new. The love for daughters. I didn't love Cruz any less. And I didn't now prefer my girls to Cruz, but as any parent with more than one child knows, you love all your children differently. Not in preference or favoritism, but with great love that is as different as their personalities.

Now, almost 5 years later, my children are my blessing and heritage from the Lord. We still have hopes of biological children one day, but we are content with these precious jewels the Lord has given us to care for. My daughters are truly royalty, and I would defend their honor to the death. I teach my son, now with greater concern, how a prince should act and how he should treat a princess. This is because only a prince is worthy of a princess, or a princess a prince. I teach my daughters that they are valued and loved and that I would cross great deserts, deep waters, and ferocious dragons to protect them. I raise them to know that they are daughter of the High King and joint heirs with Christ, who is the savior of the world. My daily goal is for them to see the way I treat their mom and to expect nothing less from a future husband. I want them to know the lesson of humility though it hurts, courage though it is difficult, and kindness because it is right. I want them to be every bit the queen their mother is. My most valuable gift in this life, other than my precious salvation, is the privilege to be the man I am: husband, dad, and priest of my home.