A War for an Unknowing Princess {on adoption}

A few weeks ago, I was asked to think about writing a blog for an event coming up in Las Vegas called "Wait No More" so here I am! Writing about it :) The entire focus of the event is adoption. In most states, there are more churches than children waiting to be adopted. Which is the point... they're WAITING to be adopted. They are waiting for homes and families. I started thinking about my own experiences with students who are in the foster care system here in Las Vegas. The ones I've had in class. And I imagined what I think it would be like. I cannot say my writing below is accurate by any means but I can thread together stories of my kids at school and maybe it would be like this one. It does have a happy ending. Because I believe adoption provides happy endings for kids who think there is no happy ending. And I believe that Believers who adopt teach kids in a million ways the love of Jesus and that is always a happy ending. There are a lot of hard and difficult things but there are also some really beautiful things. I hope this portrays the beginning of what that could look like. Through the eyes of a teenage girl who is adopted due to circumstances out of her control. -Melis

I was born in a war zone.

There were no machine guns

Or hand grenades

Or bombs.

My physical house didn’t disappear.

There were no shattered windows

Or broken dishes.

But there were words and those words…

They felt like hand grenades

And bombs

And they were repeated like the rapid fire of a machine gun.

No one lost any physical life at first but there was life lost in MY war zone.

Life and time I thought could not be redeemed.

It could not be taken back and in the hope

That none of it would be remembered

It would reappear in dreams and conversations

And school essays

And the slamming of locker doors made me cringe.

Because there was a war zone there too.

It was in my mind, not my heart or house.

A continual war that never ended. Never died down. Never silenced.

It was so loud and the wrong look from a teacher

Or a word whispered in my direction from a “friend”

Made me breathe deep from my war zone and

Prepare myself for the armor that I must continue to wear.

The leaving was unlike anything I had felt before.

It was like part of me died because the rest of me so wanted to leave

And I could not see in black and white

Or color

I could see nothing. I could hear nothing. My sense of smell barely remained.

I felt nothing. I would touch nothing and hold nothing.

Because anything that I could see or hear or feel or touch or hold

Meant that a part of me was alive and I didn’t want to anymore.

I didn’t want to hear the words, “I love you”

Or have someone pat me on the back

Or hold me at night when I screamed from the terror.

I feared the future and relationships because that meant that someone

Besides a counseling office and a policeman would know

They would know everything

They would see everything

And hear everything

And what if they wanted to feel?

What if they wanted to hold my hand?

What if they wanted to tell me the truth?

My darkest night brought out the longest day

And the day brought me to a house with the light on outside

Even in the afternoon when everyone could see

A sign of safety

Because at my house, the light was never on

The physical light

The emotional light

The mental light

The spiritual light

It was dark and my world had reached a dim point

And the only thing holding me there was a 911 dispatch woman

Who told me I would be safe

That hope was coming

That help was coming

That I was not alone

To stay on the phone

To keep talking

To keep fighting for myself

To keep breathing

To take long, deep breaths

The knock at the door seemed cruel and my mother would surely be angry

But she was passed out on the kitchen floor at the feet of my phone call

Gasping

Hastening a prayer and a hope that something somehow would change

I knew there wasn’t a chance and I wouldn’t believe her if she tried

I’d seen too much.

Too many men and drugs and drinks and stuff that ruined me

That made my mind feel like a foreign place

I didn’t even know myself

And I didn’t know what mother meant

This woman owned a few pictures of me at an early age but now at 14

I was independent and on my own

I got myself ready for school and did my homework on the bus

I let myself in while she carried on and never noticed

The constant flow of people through the place I called mine was never ending

The only greetings I received were harsh and hurtful and misplaced

I knew how unloved I was and how desperate I would someday be if I were to repeat this cycle

And now she was gone and here I was

In a new place

Overwhelmed by fear and grief and questions

The light next to the large red door attracted my attention again

I steadied my step and looked up at the sky for a moment

I walked close behind the man from the services who brought me here

I waited while the doorbell rang

I could hear tiny footsteps running down stairs

I imagined that I had once done the same but I couldn’t remember

My battleground was so messy

So many people…

Who were supposed to be my family

Who let my mother go

Who left her alone when she was sick

And then the large red door opened

The woman there was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans

With her hair thrown to the side

With a bright smile

I was so surprised by her quick hello and 'we’re happy to have you'

I knew this couldn’t be real

I was in a dream

How do I wake up?

And around her knee appeared a shining sing song princess

Carrying a wand and a tiara and a tea cup

“Would you like to have some tea?” She said in her fanciest voice

The silence remained in my head

It pounded. It pierced.

The woman perceived to be the mother and the man who brought me there talked quickly

And he left me sitting at a small kitchen table with my backpack of books and clothes to the side

With a toothy girl sipping imaginary tea

How was I deserving of a castle when I knew war

How could I be a princess if I had no beauty fit for a crown

The little princess passed me the plate of cookies

Unknowing the silence that was now screaming in my head

So undeserving and confused

The smiley mom looked at me holding this silly cup of imaginary tea

“We all wear crowns here…” she said

And she repeated similar words told to me the day before on the phone with 911…

“In this castle, all are safe.

Hope is coming and hope is here.

Help is coming but help is here.

You are not alone.

Stay with me. Here. Not alone.

Keep talking with me.

Keep fighting for yourself. I’ll fight for you too.

Keep breathing.

Take long deep breaths.”

As she exhaled

She handed me a crown too.

And the picture of my birth mother

And a picture of myself at the age of 2 wearing a tiara

“Some of us are princesses, and some warrior princesses.

This castle holds war sometimes but this castle is a place of peace.

And we keep the light on here

The physical light

The emotional light

The mental light

The spiritual light

The world is a dark place and it can be dim at times

But there is One.

That overwhelms the earth with a whisper and oceans roar on His behalf

The rocks cry out when we don’t but those crying rocks built this castle

And we call that castle home. This crown means you’re home.”

And she placed the crown on my head

And I tapped my cup of tea to the princess

“Yes, I would like some tea, thank you very much.”

For more information about the Wait No More event in Las Vegas on February 20, click here :)