By Jordyn Glaser
“The Life Letters” is an ongoing series aimed at encouraging and inspiring all parents – including adoptive and foster parents – and all pro-life readers. Oregon Right to Life, a non-sectarian, single-issue pro-life organization, welcomes guest contributions from pro-life advocates from many faith backgrounds who wish to share their stories and insights upholding the value of every human life.
(Oregon Right to Life) — I have previously shared in The Life Letters that we adopted our youngest son Abel from China when he was about two and a half years old. After our first night in the hotel in Guangzhou, it quickly became apparent that Abel had not experienced many of American life’s normal routines—including bath time. It seemed that being in water was a completely foreign concept to Abel.
With this in mind, we slowly began introducing him to the idea with about two inches of water in the tub and then gradually increased it over several months as he became more comfortable. Eventually Abel became acclimated to being in the bathtub and even learned to enjoy splashing around in the water and playing with bath toys.
When summer finally rolled around, we decided it was the perfect opportunity to test out our progress and brave the local kiddie pool. We cinched down the drawstrings on Abel’s tiny swim trunks, buckled on his older sister’s hot pink water-wings, and confidently marched to the edge of the pool. Abel paused momentarily and observed the other kids happily playing in the shallow, lukewarm water and concluded that it was safe to proceed. He held onto my hand tightly as we descended the single step into the water, and then he let go to independently navigate this new adventure.
What happened next continues to baffle me.
Abel waded out into the water. He promptly panicked. And then he initiated the crocodile death roll right in the middle of the kiddie pool. My first instinct was to shout “STAND UP!” because, as everyone except Abel understood, we were currently in less than two feet of water. I immediately realized that my shout would be ineffective because not only did Abel have hearing loss, but also because he had lost sight of all reason to his newly unlocked fear. I jumped up, took two steps into the knee-deep water, grabbed Abel by the belt of his water wings, and wrenched him up. As I set him down on his feet, he spluttered and coughed and wiped water out of his already bloodshot eyes. Once his nervous system settled a bit, I knelt in the water, gently grabbed his little round face in my palms, and said, “Buddy. Just. Stand. Up.” He blinked several times like the information I was telling him was an utterly profound epiphany, and then his face broke out into a smile. Then with a new level of confidence and freedom, he waded back out into the water.
Our Mindset
As parents, grandparents, and pro-life advocates, we are frequently called to wade out into the unknown. Whether in everyday parenting or having tough conversations about life issues, we are asked to take on hard cases, overwhelming diagnoses, and difficult behaviors. We are expected to have the ability to handle conflicts and to provide answers to challenges we didn’t even know we needed to prepare for. And if we are not careful, it is easy to be consumed by the anxiety of it all. We can easily lose sight of what is real and what is true, and begin to perform the “crocodile death roll” in response to our fears.
If we look at Abel’s story, we can see that he was willing to confidently return to the water even though nothing had changed about his situation. The pool was the same size. The water was the same depth. His gear still had the same safety rating. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different. Abel reentered the same water with a new mindset. He understood that he did not need to let his fear take control.
He could anchor to the truth that while this new experience felt difficult and entirely overwhelming to him, he also had control over the way he navigated it.
Stand Up!
Isaiah 43:2 (ESV) beautifully reminds us of the truth we can hold onto:
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
Notice that God does not promise that He will part the waters, or stop the rivers, or even put out the fire. No, He says, “I will be with you” in the midst of it.
We can do hard things because God is so much bigger than any situation we might find ourselves in: Whether that’s dealing with challenging situations within our own families, defending the pro-life position in conversations with friends and family, or stepping out of our comfort zone to advocate on behalf of the most vulnerable in a public and visible way.
The key to all this is that we must remember that truth. We cannot give our fears too much power and ultimately allow them to consume us. We have the ability to not be controlled by the chaos of our situations. God is so much bigger than any case, diagnosis, behavior, or timeline. But if we find ourselves in the middle of the hypothetical kiddie pool and we begin to feel overwhelmed—let us not find ourselves stuck in the crocodile death roll. We can swim confidently in the water, knowing God is in full control.
So let’s not give our fears the power they were never meant to have.
We can fix our eyes on what is real.
Stand up; we can do this!
