Beyond The Papers

As an adoptee, one of the challenges I grapple with is navigating questions about my faith. What exactly do I believe? How can I be certain that I haven’t been ensnared in a false religious belief system? When we are taught, using Romans 8:15 that earthly adoption mirrors what God does for believers, and many adoptee’s experiences have been fraught with negativity, it’s natural to question the appeal of Christianity. These are big question that not only I face but I believe many other adoptees as well. They’re questions that can cause feelings of insecurity, anxiety, and depression.

Yet, too often, when adoptees attempt to articulate these struggles, those who should care seem indifferent or fail to grasp the importance of our questions because their perspectives stem from vastly different backgrounds.

Consider for a moment being uprooted from your family, thrust into an entirely unfamiliar community, and told, “This is what God does to us, his children.” Wouldn’t you too question your faith?

The circumstances surrounding adoption frequently harbor dark secrets and negativity. A mother, pressured by her family’s disapproval of her baby, reluctantly relinquishes her child for adoption. Political systems coerce new mothers into surrendering their infants, furthering their own agendas. A financially strapped mother, unable to provide for her newborn, makes the agonizing decision to give the child up to someone more capable. These circumstances, among others, contribute to a web of trauma for the child.

Personally, I was adopted as a newborn and didn’t meet my birth family until well into adulthood. Despite having no conscious memory of the event, my body bears the imprint of that traumatic experience.

Adoption, in many respects, hindered my personal development. My childhood interests often went unrecognized or were discouraged by my family and my faith community. My autonomy was nearly non-existent because I was raised to conform to a mold that wasn’t really “in my genes”.

As a transracial adoptee, my siblings and I were the only people of color in our community. Insensitive remarks about race and ethnicity were not unheard of. Even in adulthood, some of the worst instances of racism I’ve faced have come from within my own Anabaptist community. In response, we’re often told to simply “suck it up” and that the offender “didn’t mean it that way.” Respected church leaders respond with remarks such as, “Adoptees don’t usually turn out right.” The dominant narrative consistently places blame on the adoptee rather than scrutinizing the systemic issues that create these struggles. Such experiences only serve to further alienate adoptees from viewing the faith community in a positive light.

Why do I share these things? Because, I’ve come to realize that our beliefs and thought patterns are strongly informed by our past. The trauma of being an adoptee, the injustices that are often shown towards adoptees, and the many times lack of belonging make it so much harder to understand and process these questions. My plea to the church is: be willing to listen to the questions of adoptees. Don’t dismiss their insecurities and their struggles as being fleshly desires, but rather extend love and patience to them. Allow them the space to grow and become autonomous individuals. Provide a safe space to ask these big questions and don’t force answers on them.