Adoption Stories Archives - Page 3 of 4 - Arrow Child & Family Ministries

Arrow mom’s Facebook post goes viral

Arrow adoptive mom Charity Robinson and her son Lincoln appeared on Fox and Friends after a photo of Lincoln making a new friend touched the hearts of tens of thousands of people on social media!

Charity snapped the photo of Lincoln playing with Jason Taylor, a local pastor who was sitting near the family at the rodeo, and shared it on her Facebook page with this message:

Dear stranger next to us at the rodeo,
When my son came up to you and grabbed your arm, you didn’t know he used to be terrified of people. When he talked to you about the bulls, you didn’t know he was diagnosed with a language disorder. When he jumped in your lap and laughed as you tickled him, you didn’t know he had a sensory processing disorder. You also didn’t know as his mother, I sat in my seat, with tears running down my face, sneaking this photo. When we adopted him a few short months ago, we didn’t know how long it would take for him to laugh, play and engage others like this. You didn’t know any of this, but you took time to connect with a child who has had to fight to learn to connect. My heart is full. Thank you.

The Robinsons are such a special family, and we are so proud of the progress Lincoln has made!

On a recent sunny afternoon outside the home of Arrow CEO Scott Lundy, 16-year-old Dylan Lundy playfully tackled his younger brother, Joey, to let their younger sister Jessie “score” by dribbling a basketball past them.

The way they laughed and teased each other, they looked like a typical group of siblings. You might not guess they’re not related by birth.

Dylan, 11-year-old Joey and 10-year-old Jessie were all adopted by Scott and his wife Stacy. Their adoption journey has led the Lundy family to be incredibly close. Because of their common adoption experience, the Lundy children have a deep connection that is seen in their devotion to one another.

“We were all brought together,” Dylan said. “We were all sent as gifts from God, because that was his plan all along.”

That isn’t to say there haven’t been struggles for both the kids and Scott and Stacy—one of the best examples being the very first day Dylan became part of the family.

He had just been born when Scott and Stacy got a call from the placement agency asking if they wanted to meet him in just one hour.

“The caseworker placed him in my arms, and I looked down at him and I just started crying,” Stacy said. “We instantly knew he was supposed to be ours…. and we had nothing, not even a car seat to take him home in. We had to leave him there with the caseworker while we ran to Target.”

They rushed to Target and told the store associates they were about to pick up a baby and needed a crib, clothes, diapers—the works. The Target employees helped them fill their cart with all the essentials, and as the Lundys left the store, they received a round of applause.

One struggle for Joey has been getting teased about being adopted, but he has a good comeback for bullies.

“I just say to them ‘At least my parents got to choose me!”

But the biggest challenge for Joey and Jessie has been not knowing their birth parents. Both are very anxious to search for them, when they get a bit older.

“One negative is you don’t know where they are, or even who they are,” Jessie said. “But the positive side is you have a family that can care for you, and love you and raise you.”

Scott said adoptive children wondering about their birth parents is natural, and not something to be afraid of.

“Don’t squelch that need,” Scott said. “Don’t avoid it. It’s a very real need, and something to be out in the open with.”

Dylan’s situation is different. The Lundys have a relationship with his birth mother, and see her and her children every Christmas. The kids love playing together, and Dylan is thankful to know them.

“I like being part of their lives,” he said. “They love my mom and dad. They know I’m with a good family, and I think it’s good to remember who started my life.”

For foster and adoptive parents hesitant to have a relationship with their child’s birth parents, Stacy said to not be afraid to reach out, because it can be beneficial for everyone.

“It’s not a fearful thing,” Stacy said. “Knowing what they gave you, you feel connected to them.”

All of these experiences have affected how Scott performs his role as CEO of Arrow. He said being an adoptive parent himself gives him insight as to how his decisions will impact our families.

“I can draw on our own experiences with regards to training, advocacy with licensing, legislation, etc.,” Scott said. “I always think how will this action affect our families and how will it affect our kids.”

Like many Arrow families, the Lundys see the weaving together of their adoption struggles and triumphs as something beautiful. It started with the tremendous pain of not being able to conceive, but now has blossomed into the ultimate blessing.

“This is the story God wrote for our family,” Stacy said. “It’s a gift to live it, to share it, to see what a blessing it’s been.”

In this post, blogger Lauren Casper shares with us the story of a day at Trader Joe’s when she was struggling to get her adoptive children to behave. She was incredibly frustrated and near tears when a Trader Joe’s employee reminded her what being an adoptive parent is all about– giving love and hope to children.

I was tired, hurried, frustrated, and ready to just go home. John was pushing Mareto in the cart just as fast as he could to leave the store before the melt down got worse. We were frantically trying to open up a cereal bar in an effort to stem the tears. Arsema was strapped to my chest in the ergo carrier watching it all through wide eyes. Sweat beads were forming on my forehead, caused in part by my embarrassment, but mostly from the heat and amount of energy I was exerting by running through Trader Joe’s with my 18 pound baby strapped to my chest and my toddler year old screaming behind me.

I sure didn’t feel like I was going to be in the running for any mom of the year awards. I felt like a hot mess. In fact, I was sincerely hoping that no one was looking at us too closely… that somehow we were invisible to the people bustling around us. It was chaotic, exhausting, and an unfortunately all too common experience for us.

Our family doesn’t exactly blend in with the wall paper. Not only are we two white parents with a brown son and daughter (something that causes enough stares and questions all by itself), but our son has noticeable developmental delays and different behaviors caused by his autism, and our daughter has physical differences with her missing and webbed digits. In other words, when we all go out together we stand out. Usually I don’t mind, and often I love it. My children are beautiful and so is our story.

Sometimes though, on the days when we are very far from having it together, I do mind. Those days I just want to blend in with the crowd and hide far away from the curious stares. Some days I get tired of it all and just want to be a family. Not the adoptive family. Not the family with special needs children. Not the unique family… just a family. This was one of those days.

I was close to tears myself as John took Mareto to put the cart away. I rushed through the doors with Arsema on my chest to get to the car as quickly as possible when a voice behind me slowed my steps.

“Ma’am!!” She called out. I slowed, hoping and praying she wasn’t talking to me.

“Ma’am!” I stopped and turned to find a young woman rushing toward me. A bright smile covered her face and I immediately noticed her beautiful black curls, just like the black curls snuggled on my chest, tickling my chin. Recognizing her shirt, I realized that she worked there and assumed I must have dropped something. I looked at her, holding back my tears, waiting.

“I just wanted you to have this bouquet…” and I looked down to see the flowers in her hands. She quickly continued to explain…

“I was adopted as a baby and it has been a wonderful thing. We need more families like yours.” I stared at her, stunned. Hadn’t she seen what a disaster we were in the store? Didn’t she see that we were barely able to keep it together? Didn’t she see what I felt were all my failures as a mom?

As she handed me the flowers I managed to choke out a thank you and tried to express that this meant the world to me. She patted my shoulder, told me my family was beautiful, and walked back into the store.

My steps were much slower as I finally headed to the car with my arms full of flowers and tears that had spilled over onto my cheeks. On a day when I felt like we were the worst example of family… a day when I hoped no one noticed us… she did. But she didn’t see what I assumed everyone was seeing. She didn’t think what I assumed everyone was thinking. She saw beauty and love and hope and family. She thought we were wonderful and it made her smile.

I wish I had thought to get her name. I wish I could go back and tell her, two years later, what her gift continues to mean to me today. To the beautiful young woman in the parking lot of Trader Joe’s … thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are a treasure.

You can read more of Lauren’s writing at www.laurencasper.com

One of our families found their missing “Linc!”

Two-year-old Lincoln, also known as “Linc”, was adopted last week by Charity and Brenton Robinson near Tyler, just a week after the toddler’s birthday. To celebrate, the Robinsons held a combination birthday and adoption day party last Saturday.

The Robinsons are ecstatic to finally, officially call Lincoln a part of their family!

Lincoln came to live with the Robinsons with special medical needs and developmental delays. He only knew three words—“ball,” “bye” and “shoe,” and he always clenched his hands, which hindered him from developing fine motor skills. Even standing was difficult. In his first physical therapy session, Lincoln fell down more than 40 times.

He had some emotional problems as well. Lincoln was scared to do things like dry his hair with a towel, or pet the family’s dogs. He had trouble communicating verbally, which caused him to become frustrated and lash out.

But that didn’t stop the Robinsons from opening their hearts to him. Children with special needs wait longer on average to be adopted, if they’re adopted at all, because only a small portion of foster parents are willing to take them in. However, the Robinsons believed they could make a difference in Lincoln’s life.

They were right.

Since Lincoln was placed with the Robinsons, he’s totally transformed. Lincoln has overcome his physical and speech problems through six months of therapy three times a week. Now, he’s down to one session a week with an occupational therapist.

He’s grown from a timid child to an affectionate, sociable 2 year old who loves to hug and snuggle. When he’s growing frustrated, Lincoln knows to put himself in “time out” and cool down.

Next week, Lincoln starts T-ball. It’s hard for Charity to recognize her active son as the same little boy who had trouble standing just a few short months ago.

“The most rewarding thing about adopting is seeing the difference in your child over time,” Charity said. “It’s seeing your child starting to love you over time, and blossom into a child he was destined to be, and having your child look into your eyes with such life and love compared to when he was first placed.”

Charity urged foster parents to be open to caring for children with special medical diagnoses.

“Don’t let your head be your guide, but your heart” Charity said. “What God blesses you with may be different than what you had in mind. Do not be caught up on the child’s diagnosis on paper. They can overcome their obstacles if you love them and help them to succeed.”

Go to www.arrow.org/foster to learn more about how you can adopt a child from foster care.

For Tammie and Charles Cobb, adopting a child from foster care was about patience and trusting God.

The Cobbs became foster parents shortly after a chance interaction with another Arrow family more than 10 years ago. A man and his adoptive son had come into their business, and they got to talking about fostering-to-adopt. Before he left the store, he set Tammie up on a phone call with an Arrow Ambassador Family Specialist, and before they knew it, the Cobbs were training to be foster parents.

The Cobbs could not have children of their own, and intended to adopt. They fostered about 40 children over three years, waiting patiently for the child that would become theirs forever. Tammie said it was incredibly hard to say goodbye to so many children when they left her home to reunite with their birth families. She was just about at her emotional breaking point.

“I told my husband, ‘I can’t take it anymore,’ but we sat back and waited, and of course God’s timing is always perfect,” Tammie said.

It was shortly after that the Cobbs got a call to come pick up their soon to-be-daughter Haylea from the hospital.

“When I went to pick up that baby from the hospital, the doctors and nurses walked me down the hall, and I just had the biggest smile on my face,” Tammie said. “The Holy Spirit was with me. I thought ‘Oh my gosh, all my dreams are coming true!’ We had a feeling in us about what the Lord was about to do. It was the biggest blessing. “

Tammie’s feeling was right on target. It wasn’t long before Haylea’s birth parents’ rights were terminated, and the Cobbs were able to officially adopt the baby girl.

Now, Haylea is an energetic 8 year old with many friends. She loves to ride her bike, go swimming, and she works hard at school. When Tammie first became a foster parent, she didn’t expect to adopt a child outside her own race, but she wouldn’t change anything about Haylea for the world.

“We came in with expectations of a brown-headed girl with blue eyes,” Tammie said. “I want families to open up their minds and their hearts to a different race, because we’re all God’s children, and we all need to know we belong somewhere, and more than anything, children need to know that they belong to God no matter where they are.”

While she’s glad she got to touch so many lives through fostering, Tammie is happy she was finally able to adopt one of her foster children. For parents worried about growing too attached to foster children who may eventually return to live with birth relatives, Tammie said to think first about the heartache foster children are enduring.

“Embrace what they’re going through,” Tammie said. “A lot of kids I had– some came to me broken and abused or burned, and you have to be a strong person mentally. I would say to (potential foster parents) to be prayerful and allow God to direct their path in the direction He wants them to go in.”

Learn more about fostering-to-adopt at www.arrow.org/foster

Blogger Liz Curtis Faria, a former social worker, graciously allowed us to repost her blog entry about a troubled foster child, desperately reaching out for someone to love him. Unfortunately, his story is not unique. Thousands of children in the foster care system are waiting to be adopted right now, and are at risk of meeting the same fate as him. The boy in the story was never adopted, and we can’t help but wonder how much differently his life could have turned out if a family would have taken a chance on him.

It was something about the phrasing that got to me. Something about the cadence of his words, the staccato of his speech.

“Nobody loves me. Not even my mother who gave birth to me.”

It is an odd turn of phrase, isn’t it?

Not even my mother who gave birth to me.

He was buckled into the backseat of my Toyota, still too little to sit up front. At seven he had already moved more times than the total number of years he had been on the earth. And this time, like the times before it, he moved with his belongings in a trash bag. A suitcase, at least, would have added a small degree of dignity to the whole affair – to being “placed” in another and another and yet another foster home before reaching the 3rd grade. Trash bags break, you know. Trash bags can’t possibly support the contents of any life, and certainly not a life as fragile as this.

They break from the strain, eventually.

This move was harder for Stephen than most. It was a home he thought he would stay in, at least for awhile. He had felt affection there. When I went to pick him up, after his foster mother gave notice that he could no longer stay, he came easily with me; head down, no reaction on the surface of it. It was only when he got into my car that he began to sob the kind of aching sound that leaves you limp in its wake.

He could barely get out the words. Nobody loves me. Not even my mother who gave birth to me.

Months later, in a repeat scene (another foster mother, another removal), he would put up a fight. He would run around the living room, ducking behind furniture, refusing to leave. But on this night he had no fight in him.

That was Stephen at seven.

Nine-year old Stephen grips his report card in sweaty hands. We’re headed to an adoption event, where we will meet families who want to adopt an older child; families who do not automatically rule out a boy like Stephen with all of his long “history.” And he wants to impress them, these strangers. He wants to win them over, and so he brings his good report card along as tangible proof that he is a child worth loving.

A child should never have to prove they are worth loving.

Twelve-year old Stephen tells me that I’m his best friend. I’m his social worker, and he should have a real best friend, but I don’t say this to him. We’re at a taping for Wednesday’s Child, the news spot featuring children who are up for adoption. Stephen is engaging on camera. Maybe somebody will pick him this time. Maybe he is offering just enough evidence, at twelve, that he’s a boy worth loving. And he is lovable, truly. But it is not enough. A family never comes.

Years later, long after I’ve left the agency, I get an email from my old boss asking how I’m doing, and ending with a short P.S. “Stephen is in DYS lockup after running away from his foster home. You need to adopt him.” My stomach drops. I’ve had this thought many times. I should adopt him myself. But I don’t.

I heard about his murder from a friend who had seen it in the news. Shot outside a party over some foolish dispute. Dead at 18, dead just as he became a man. Not my Stephen, I prayed. When I realized that it was really him – that it could be no other – I sobbed gripped by the kind of anguish that leaves you limp in its wake.

What have we all done? What haven’t we all done.

The newspapers ran very little about the murder, as if it were an afterthought. Barely worth a mention, really. Anonymous strangers posted nasty comments online: “Just another gangbanger,” they said. You don’t even know him. You don’t know the first thing about this boy. You don’t know that as a child he would trace letters into my back with his finger to pass time at the doctor’s office, asking me to guess what phrase he was spelling out. “I ♥ U” he traced between my shoulders, the last time we played this game.

Stephen had been wrong, that night in my Toyota. His mother did love him, in her way. She was there, at the funeral. She greeted me kindly. I think she knew I loved Stephen as I knew she did. We both failed him in the end, and that joined us I suppose. Neither of us could give him a family.

There were no photos from Stephen’s childhood at the funeral home. No images of the green-eyed boy with the sweet smile to remind us of what had been lost. There were no pictures of Stephen with his brothers, and so I printed up snapshots of the four boys together, taken on a supervised visit, and brought them to the funeral to give to the family. It was something I could do, against the larger backdrop of nothing I could do.

There were very few social workers at the funeral, and none of Stephen’s many foster mothers. Were they even told he was dead? Stephen spent more of his life being raised in the system than out of it. If you claim legal responsibility for a child, you best show up at his funeral. You should show up when he dies. He was yours, in a way, wasn’t he? You owe it to him. And if he did not belong to you, then who did he ever belong to?

His mother was there, at least. His mother who gave birth to him. I hear the echo of his voice from those many years ago.

Somebody does love you Stephen. I want to tell him. But it’s too late.

Stephen was the one, for me. The one who embodied all the failures of a system so broken that to heal it would take far more than the casts that heal the literal broken bones of the children growing up within it.

They break, you know. These kids we leave behind. Eventually they break.

You can learn more about fostering and adopting through Arrow at https://www.arrow.org/foster.

You can find Liz’s blog at www.amothershipdown.com and her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/amothershipdown.

*Stephen is a fictional name for a real boy the world lost.

In the beautifully written sentiments below, written by Arrow adoptive mom Jennie Sulfridge, she contemplates the struggles of adopting her three children, as well as the immense amount of joy they have brought into her life. As they sleep peacefully, she writes about a fourth daughter who will soon become part of their family. It’s clear Jennie has a huge heart, and we’re so grateful she chose to adopt through Arrow.

It’s late. I should be in bed. I always end up turning in later than I had planned. There’s just a lot to do in a day around here. We sometimes struggle to keep up. Most days we succeed. Some days, not so much. We try again tomorrow.

But tonight they sleep. All three of them. I’ll check on them one more time before turning in. I’ll straighten blankets and pick pillows off the floor. I’ll kiss foreheads and pet the cat that sleeps at the foot of one of their beds. They love that cat.

And it will all look so ordinary. But it’s not. It’s so much more than that.

These three that I tuck in each night are sisters, not by birth, but by adoption. It was a long road, a rocky one. I wasn’t very good at navigating it, but that’s okay because I didn’t have to walk it alone. The folks at Arrow were our biggest cheerleaders. They believed in us when we didn’t believe in ourselves. They knew how great it would be before we did and they play a part in this nightly ritual I stumble through. They play a big part.

You see as I walk out of their room tonight I’ll pause at a fourth bed, an empty bed. One that will soon be filled by another little Arrow girl. I’ll look at that bed in the dark and dream about the day I’ll straighten her blankets and kiss her forehead. It’s all ready for her with a new mattress and pillows, a quilt made by me, a blanket and special pillowcases made by her sisters. We’ve had fun preparing that bed for her.

And in the quiet of that dark room I pray for her little heart and I wonder what she will be like. I wonder what kind of spark she will add to our family. I wonder.

It won’t be easy, the beginning never is, but it will be worth it. She will be worth it. I won’t do it perfectly this fourth time around. I guarantee I will fall and get up just to fall again. There will be apologies, probably lots of them.

As I walk out of that room each night I can’t imagine life without them. They fill me up to overflowing every single day. I’m so very blessed.

Our adoption journey did not look like I thought it would. It was messy and hard and most days we barely made it through. But we made it. Together. That’s what counts.

This adoption thing isn’t always pretty, but it’s always beautiful.

Thankful for those beautiful daughters of mine. And thankful for Arrow too.

When Jason and Mistie Stephens met 3-year-old Emma while volunteering in a special needs classroom at their church, they knew God was calling them to adopt her.

Emma was removed from her biological family with non-accidental trauma and malnutrition, which also left her blind. When the Stephens met her, she was being cared for by another Arrow foster family, but the Stephens instantly connected with her.

“She’s just amazing,” said Mistie Stephens. “We fell in love with her the first day we met her. We thought God had sent her, and we were supposed to adopt her. We didn’t know if she was even available for adoption, and we didn’t know anything about adoption agencies, but that was what God was calling us to do.”

The Stephens trained through Arrow in the hopes that they may one day be able to adopt Emma, and became a respite care provider for her foster family. Even though she was unavailable for adoption at the time, the Stephens were sure Emma was meant to be part of their family.

Over the next two and half years, the Stephens grew closer to Emma. Eventually they became her foster parents, and in time Emma’s birth parents parental rights were terminated. Emma officially became a Stephens on August 7, 2013.

“We just had faith in God that this was God’s will for our life, and we were dependent on him every step of the way,” Mistie said.

Mistie says Emma’s blindness is hardly an issue. She’s always quick to adapt and excels in school. She’s reading braille two grade levels above where she should be, and was added to the school’s Gifted and Talented program this year.

But most of all, she’s just a normal 6-year-old girl.

“She’s so friendly and so happy and bubbly and jumpy,” Mistie said. “She loves princesses and girly things, and bows in her hair, and having her nails painted, and she’s just got a big personality and a love for the Lord,” Mistie said. “She talks about the Lord and about Jesus all the time. She’s just wonderful.”

Emma even inspired the Stephens to become champions for adoption. Before she was even placed with them, they started a foster/adoption ministry at their church, and held a mini-conference where Christian agencies, including Arrow, could give out information on orphan care.

Additionally, they’ll soon begin working with a local children’s home that has 18 foster children placed in its care.

“We’re just doing what God was calling us to do,” Mistie said. “We’re blessed he put this desire in our hearts.”

On November 21, Gabby Gullett became the first child to be adopted into a permanent, loving family through Arrow’s partnership with the Assemblies of God North TX District and their orphan care initiative “The Keep.” The Keep is focused on developing church-based solutions to local orphan care needs in Texas and other partner Assembly of God conferences, as well as other faith-based groups.

Before the adoption, Katie Gullett, Gabby’s adoptive mother, wrote about her family’s adoption journey. You can read her story below about how God brought Gabby into their lives, as well as watch a video of the special day when the adoption was finalized!

In October 2012, we felt God’s call for us to expand our family through adoption. We had no idea where or how to begin, but knew if God had called us…He would show us the way. In October 2013, The Keep visited our church and shared their ministry and mission. God was showing us the way! After service we attended an informational lunch/meeting. We left the meeting with peace, joy, hope, and confirmation of God’s call for us to adopt. Our journey had begun! Paperwork and meetings were in store, but we were ready! Our next meeting came on December 19, 2013 just before Christmas. We learned more about the process and what to expect. We also received “the paperwork”. The holidays came and our home was filled with great happiness. In the midst of such a wonderful season, we found ourselves missing our child/children. God was preparing our entire family and had already birthed our child/children in our hearts. Although we had yet to meet them or see them or anything…we loved them and missed them! We know that God’s timing is perfect, so we waited and prayed….

Our Precious Child,
Your life is not a mistake. God made you out of the love that He is. He called you into being at the right time and the right place. You are a privilege, not a burden. You are a joy and a delight. You are God’s masterpiece! We pray for you. We ask God to protect and strengthen you. We ask God to heal you and give you peace. We ask God to carry you and wrap His arms around you until we are able to. You are cherished! You are loved! You are chosen!
Love, Your Forever Family

Our home study was completed in February 2014 and we were officially licensed on April 4, 2014. We submitted several home studies and patiently waited to welcome home the child/children that God had chosen to join our family. God had a different plan, and on June 10, 2014 we received a phone call from our adoption coordinator explaining to us that there was a unique situation and they were needing to place a child quickly with an adoptive home. Unbeknownst to us, the day before our adoption coordinator had presented our family and our home had been approved for this child. All we needed to do was say, “yes”. We knew that this was the child that God had chosen. So with little information and sight unseen, we said “yes”. We met our precious daughter on Wednesday, June 11^th and welcomed her home on Friday, June 13^th. As we began receiving information about our sweet girl, we discovered that she was born in October of 2012. The very month that God had began calling us to adopt! God was preparing us from the moment she entered the world! We are so excited, blessed, humbled, and overwhelmed by all God has done and will continue to do!

– Katie Gullett

Sitting around the dinner table enjoying chicken noodle soup, the Senofsky family shared their “highs and lows” for the day.

For the youngest, 6-year-old Abigail, the highlight of her day was being with everyone at the table, from her adoptive mom and dad, Lori and Nick, to her three siblings and her nanny, Hannah. Her low was that a bully at school told her to “shut up,” which hurt her feelings.

But even though hurtful, the quip is mild compared to the traumas Abigail has experienced in her short life.

She and her siblings, 11-year-old Samantha and 7-year-old Daniel, were placed in Lori and Nick Senofsky’s care in September of last year. Their previous foster parents told the children they would adopt them, but then things fell apart, leaving them even more wary, especially Daniel.

When Daniel threw a toy and accidentally broke a picture in his new home, he immediately broke down and hid, fearful that Lori and Nick would send him to yet another foster home. Samantha, the eldest, estimated that she had been in at least 10 foster homes, some with Abigail and Daniel, some split apart from them.

The result is that the three are working through issues that most adults can’t even begin to imagine.

However, before even meeting the kids, Lori and Nick were committed to adopting them, giving them a permanent, stable home.

“We believe that God gave them to us,” Lori said. “There was no plan B right from the start. We trusted God to pick our three biological kids, and we trusted God to pick our adopted kids too.”

With patience, love and faith in God, Lori and Nick are seeing God begin to heal the siblings’ hearts from their feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Their official adoption in July was an especially important part of the healing process.

“They were very wounded,” Nick said. “You can take all the classes you want, but until you live it, you can’t imagine what it’s like.”

One of the most difficult problems the children are overcoming is their nightmares. Lori and Nick have relied on God to grant their children peaceful sleep. They even anointed the children’s beds, and have taught them to pray for Jesus to take away their nightmares before going to sleep. Lori said the prayers have helped with their nightmares tremendously because they empower the children to ask Jesus for help, and not feel like victims and live in fear.

“For me, it was a miracle,” she said.

Prayer plays a huge role in the family’s life constantly, not just at bedtime. When the kids are having a bad day, Lori has a group of supporters she texts to ask for prayers.

The couple’s 17-year-old birth daughter, Lauren, and 22-year-old birth son, Will, have been another huge help in caring for their new siblings. Both have made sacrifices in order to spend time with them. Lauren sacrificed time with her friends or dates to watch them, and Will even decided to live at home instead of on his own so the three would get to know him.

However, there was still a need for another set of helping hands, especially so Lauren could a chance to enjoy her senior year of high school to its fullest, so Lori and Nick hired a nanny, Hannah, to help out.

“Hannah really saved our family dynamic,” Nick said.

Lori, Nick, Lauren, Will, Hannah and other family and friends have come together as a team to help the siblings, and they’ve shown dramatic improvement over the past year. They are doing better in school, their fears have lessened and their behavior continues to improve.

Along the way, Lori and Nick have grown spiritually.

“We’ve experienced God in a way we never had before,” Nick said. “All you can do is depend on God. My faith has really deepened.”

But more importantly, the kids “have a stable home, a lot of love and a better shot at a future,” he said.

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