Empowered to Connect: Healing the Wounds of Relational Trauma
Reposting this article by Michael Monroe from the Empowered to Connect website.
I remember the first time I heard it
said. It came out of nowhere during a conversation with an adult adoptee, and I
recoiled as the words made their way to my heart. â€œThere is no adoption without
loss,â€ she declared, â€œbut sometimes adoptive parents tend to forget that.â€
Such a categorical statement. So
black and white. Surely there had to be an exception. Certainly there was some
gray. â€œAll adoption is born of loss?â€ I remember thinking to myself. All?
As Iâ€™ve become immersed in the world
of adoption over the years Iâ€™ve come to realize and more fully understand how
true this truth is. Iâ€™ve seen it first hand in the lives of my four
children. Iâ€™ve heard it in the stories of countless adult adopted persons
who find the courage and feel the freedom to honestly tell their stories.
Iâ€™ve read about it in books and heard about it in conferences from experts who
have dedicated their lives to serving kids like mine and families like ours.
At its root trauma speaks of a
wound. In the realm of adoption and foster care we often think of trauma in
terms of tragic events such as natural disasters, horrific scenes of violence
or domestic chaos, or the response to prolonged exposure to emotional,
physical, and sexual abuse. Each certainly qualifies as trauma and each is traumatic.
But we sometimes overlook another wound that every adopted (and foster child)
has experienced â€“ the wound of relational trauma. True, not every child
experiences the impacts of this relational wound in just the same way or to the
same degree. But parents are never safe to presume that there is no
No child becomes available for
adoption or enters foster care unless something has gone wrong, terribly
so. Those who gave life to this child, those who were supposed to take
care of him, those who were supposed to be there to protect him, teach him, and
support him either couldnâ€™t, wouldnâ€™t, or didnâ€™t. And so one of the most
foundational and important of all earthly relationships â€“ that of parent and
child â€“ was broken or severed.
If Iâ€™m honest Iâ€™ll admit that I
donâ€™t want this to be true for my kids, this idea of relational trauma and the
loss that inevitably comes with it. I want our adoption story to be one of
beauty and gain, not loss and pain. One of happy, not sad. One of
addition, not subtraction. But God is not writing a fairy tale with our lives,
no matter how much I wish it so. Instead, Heâ€™s writing a real life story
that involves real people living in a broken world. But it is also a
story of hope.
Adoption is an invitation to enter
into a childâ€™s world, into the trauma that he or she has experienced, and
become an agent of Godâ€™s healing power. Dr. Karyn Purvis, author of The
Connected Child, often reminds adoptive and foster parents that â€œour
children were harmed in relationship, and they will come to experience healing
This reality of the healing power of
relationships should come as little surprise. I was reminded of this just
the other night as I sang the song Iâ€™ve sung to my children literally thousands
of times while I tuck them into bed. As the words rolled off of my lips â€“ â€œI
once was lost but now Iâ€™m found; was blind but now I seeâ€ â€“ I could not help
but think of how Godâ€™s grace and redemption entered into the relational trauma
of humanity. Into my own life.
The miracle of seeing is only a
miracle because I once was blind. I only needed to be found because I was so
very lost. And the miracle of adoption is that through loss, and not in spite
of it, God chooses in His infinite goodness and kindness to make something
beautiful. He is weaving the broken pieces of our lives together into a family
where hope lives and wounds heal.