A man's/father's perspective

A man's/father's perspective     

     There are a lot of things about adoption that are rather enigmatic to me. Over and over, when I tell other men that we are adopting, the look on their face is similar to what I'd get if I'd have asked them to smell my shoes. Sort of a slanted head, "Did you really just say that?" kind of look. Most men then proceed to enlighten me as to what I'm getting myself in to through a series of (I suppose) well intended questions aimed at drawing me to their conclusion.

      The first and foremost questions is, "How are you going to pay for this?" It's the God-given role of a man to provide for his family. It's in his genetic make-up (at least for decent men and those who didn't marry a sugar momma) to be in control and see his family prosper.

     Adoption is super expensive. WAY too expensive to be "about the children" like everyone claims. I can either get that new 4-door F150 I want or Tanya can get her new Odyssey or we can get that boy from Taiwan. To adopt most likely means putting some material dream on hold, perhaps indefinitely. We can hang up the house with acreage for a while.

      But then God steps in. Every time a payment is due, something unseen and incredible happens. A tax refund we didn't file for, a donation, someone takes up our cause and fund raises, a yard sale that clears a grand and a half... we've yet to truly sacrifice.

     Anything.

     At all. 

     It's HARD for a man to let go of control and trust an unseen force. But I tell you, I haven't been disappointed yet. And trust like this is foolishness to those who've never experienced it. And to me, after what I've seen, to question the provisions of God is foolishness too. So I don't let their question bother me. They don't get my perspective and I don't get theirs.They think, "Poor guy doesn't know what he's in for," and I think, "Poor guy doesn't know what he's missing."

     Men often ask why I want another child. My responses range from "What's not to love about children?" to "Because I saw his face and all I could think of was my son Jack, same age, same hair cut, same smile that's too big for his face, and what it must be like to be fatherless."

     What many men are REALLY asking is, "Why would you want to raise someone else's child?" As in, "You know where that came from, don't you?" The tone of the question usually resembles a mom warning you not to eat gum found on the floor at Walmart or a wife watching you open a Tupperware bowl of mystery food from the back of the fridge.

     Yes, I realize that some other man created this child in an act of passion or intoxication or whatever. And I don't care. That boy is not at fault. That boy is fearfully and wonderfully made and was ordained from conception to be a part of the Ryan Smith family (see above on how God makes things happen).

     I'm good with that.

     In fact, I'm more than good with that. I'm actually pursuing that!

     2 men came right out and worded it as, "Why would you want to risk your resources for your family on someone else's child?" Because knowing what I know and seeing what I've seen and knowing my children as I do, there is no risk. This question to me is like asking Nick Saban, "Why would you risk your win record and championship title hopes to play Georgia State?" See? That's what I said.

     Question 3: How are you going to find time to care for ANOTHER child? At this, I just stare at them. Dude, I teach 176 kids a day. I'm a professional. Finding time for needs is what I do.

     I'll take him (and the other 3) with me when I go somewhere. 

     I'll sit by him (and the other 3) when I watch tv or eat, all 4 kids will play in the den or the yard and I'll be there. 

     What's one more child on my back when I try to lay on the floor? What's one more child in a booth that seats 6 or a van that seats 8 or a church that seats 350 or a stadium that seats 50,000?

     How will I find time? I'll be a dad. That's how I'll find time. I'll be the best freaking dad this kid ever imagined. I'll put the needs of my family first and I'll be available. If need be, I'll even get back on caffiene (I gave that up last summer. Had to do a shameless plug here...)

     Every now and then, and usually from my truest friends, someone will just come out and flat out challenge the whole shebang with a simple, "Why?" Because I'm called to. I can't explain it if you've never experience a true, God-given call yourself.

First, I want to. Just like I want to learn to captain a boat. So I bought a boat. An old dilapidated boat. And rebuilt it from the bottom up. I baked my neck in the sun, scratched fiberglass in my skin for weeks, and lost probably a quart of blood. But I earned my license and drove that boat. I just want to. And so I will not be happy until I do.

2: I think it's awesome. Some people collect tattoos to remind them of the good times, I want a house full of tricycle motors around me when I'm old to say that I truly lived.

3: Life experiences lead me to this. This is where the paths of all the stuff I've experienced leads. It's just a natural progression for me.

4. It's my scriptural duty. It's in my manly nature. Men provide. Men protect. Men stand up for the weak, the helpless, the homeless. Men shelter. Men don't pity people, we intervene. Real men don't just say, "Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but we act and act in a strong unmistakeable problem solving way. Everything in my fatherly nature says to bring this young boy into my house and raise him as my own. Everything in my manly nature says to protect this child at all costs.

     I get it that a lot of men don't feel called (or maybe truly aren't) to follow this same path. I'm not called to missions in Africa (against my own protestations. I'd go in a heart beat.) I get it that this seems so unnatural to many men. My hopes for other men is that when their call arrives, that they're listening and don't run like a scared little boy. That men embrace their calling full force and whole heartedly. That they trust the God who called them to carry that good work through to completion, just like He said He would do. 

     Embrace your calling. In my case, my calling will embrace me back every day and will call me daddy. And he will make me proud.