Atkinson Family Addition

During this season of Lenten reflection, our congregation is taking time to hear from one another. Each Wednesday evening, we read a different creed, discuss what resonates or challenges us, and hear from a different member their reflection. This past week, Travis and I shared a brief reflection of adoption and our faith. We began with the I Believe creed written by  Bruce Prewer, Minister of the Uniting Church in Australia: In spite of many unanswered questions, I believe. I believe in the living God, the joy of the universe,  who is the pulse and purpose of all things seen and unseen,  who from the dust of earth calls up living beings to be children of eternity,  who through countless ages has provided for us many liberators  and tirelessly seeks to bring victory out of defeat and life out of decay. I believe in Jesus the Christ, God’s true Son,  who is bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh,  who took upon himself the he...

For Coretta’s first twelve (and a half) weeks of life, I was with her. Together in the hospital. Together in Nevada. And together here at home. The most time apart we spent, was a couple of hours-maybe a few times. I need her. I need to feel her head resting on my chest. I need to hear every coo, every cry, every sigh. I need her fingers wrapped around mine. I need to run my fingers through her gorgeous dark hair. I need to whisper in her ear. And I need to kiss her cheeks. So when our time was up, I couldn’t possibly prepare. For two weeks, I cried. I wanted to cherish every second of our fleeting time together. Every diaper change. Every bottle. Every massage. Every snuggle. And most intensely, every smile. I spent much of those final days just staring at her. Holding her gaze. Smiling at her through the tears pouring down my cheeks. Smiling and telling her how much I love her as those tears landed on her cheeks and head. I was terrified. But I was not terrified or s...

Coretta Neeley. For quite a while, we have kept a running document with names that we’ve liked. We would find them everywhere and anywhere: the credits after a movie or show; book characters and authors; family names. One of our favorite places: the church bulletin! We’d look at all the composers and writers (I think we added two names that way). When we found out that we were chosen and that the baby was a girl, our name search amped up. We had a long list of maybes but hadn’t yet decided on names we loved. While we were waiting, both of us seemed to be drawn to boy names: that list was extensive, had stars and notes by each of our favorites, and even had some middle name ideas. (We also learned that when your last name ends in -son, first names sound silly if they also end in -son.) In one of the very first conversations we had with Mama M, she asked us if we had a name picked out--which made us panic that we hadn’t even narrowed it down! During our July visit together, we knew...

I always imagined becoming a mom to be the most amazing, beautiful experience. I imagined happiness and basking in sunshine. I imagined only love and happiness. But that image isn’t how our story is being written. During the lengthy process of adoption, there were people in our lives that were noticeably absent; uninvolved; uninterested. People that we thought would be our supporters. Those pages weren’t written how we imagined. But there were others, who in the absence, stepped in and filled that void. They were involved; interested; and cheered us on. Those pages weren’t how we imagined; but they were filled with the grace of our God. When this sweet baby girl was a mere three days old, our beloved Pastor Stephanie texted us early that morning to say “My prayers are with you. God’s love surround you. May you all experience peace.”. She knew that 72 hours had passed and that Coretta’s Mama would be making a decision that wasn’t easy; it took deep thought and prayer; it to...