You Are Beloved

Recently I saw a tattoo that I would love to have. I saw a photo of an artist/pastor who has one on her forearm that says: you are beloved. Unfortunately I already have a tattoo on my ankle. Beth says that one tattoo is a cute, middle-aged, suburban mom rebellion but two would be a lifestyle.

My lone tattoo is the Chinese symbol for the peace that comes with balance. My ink started off as simply the symbol. I thought that each time I saw it, I would be reminded of this ever elusive ideal. In all honesty, the tattoo was pretty boring. I convinced myself that the tattoo would be more effective if there was some excitement to it. So I returned to the tattoo parlor and asked the artist to add a pop of color. He sold me on wonderful visions of multi-colored stardust. After he finished the embellishment, it looked like a multi-colored snake wrapped around my symbol for peace and balance. It's an apt metaphor.

Now I'm having visions of the "beloved" tattoo and all its potential for me.  I imagine putting my arm around someone and having those words touch their back. Would they truly sense it if they were touched by the actual words? Can words be spoken or tattooed enough to convince?

Maybe everyone already knows they are beloved. The beloved of a parent or spouse or child. Maybe they have had the message that they are the beloved of God imprinted on their heart. Based on how many of us self-medicate, I think sometimes we forget. Perhaps it's just me but sometimes I need to be reminded.  Maybe I need to look at my forearm and see it in print.

A very good friend of mine just became a grandmother for the first time. From the moment that her granddaughter was a little more than a few cells rapidly dividing in her mother's womb, she was wanted. It felt like my friend and the rest of her family loved that little girl into being.  Will this little girl always know that she is beloved? 

Early in the adoption process we were warned that most adopted kids go through a bit of a crisis around the age of eight or nine. Children begin to understand that in order for them to be adopted, they first had to be given up. The positive adoption language is that adopted children are "placed."  My sense is that their hearts wonder if they were unwanted, not wanted, not planned, given up. We can clean up the language and say things like "placed" but the act is messy.   In order for my kids to be mine, another woman had to rip away part of her heart.  The paradox is that my heart became full on the day another woman's heart became ruptured.  Is it possible for birth mothers to feel beloved in that moment?

We started watching for signs of this adoption crisis when our oldest daughter was seven.  We talk about our children's birth mother. We tell our kids what we know. Since we've never met her, we don't know much. We pray often that she feels surrounded by an overwhelming sense that her babies are loved and cherished beyond measure. We tell our children that they are wanted. We describe the longing of adoptive parents who are waiting to be matched with their children.

Recently Peyton has changed. It is a change from who we thought she would be; a change from who we knew her to be. All of the sudden she is lackluster in her studies and her sports. Where she once excelled, she now lacks passion.  I hope this is some sort of developmental phase and not a lifelong habit.  We've tried carrots and sticks. We've tried gentle and rational talks and full-throated yelling. Nothing seems to work.  

Honestly I don't know if this is about the adoption. I don't think she could name it even if it is. On our walk to school this morning I told her something and I plan to tell her this for some time:

Peyton,

Before I knew you existed, I dreamed about you.

From the moment I laid eyes on you, I wanted you.

I wanted to be your Mama so badly that my heart ached.

You are wanted.

You are cherished.

There is nothing you will ever do that will make me want you less.

There is nothing that you will ever do that will make me love you less.

You are my daughter forever.

You are my beloved until my last breath and when that day comes, I hope that message is so imprinted on your heart that you never, for a second, doubt that you are beloved.

I keep having dreams about that pastor/artist's tattoo.  You are beloved.  May it be forever tattooed on my daughter's heart.