Guest Blogger - Yura Became a Son by Nate McNeil

This is a great post that I came across - I hope you enjoy it!
Blessings,
Lydia

http://mcneilladoption.wordpress.com/2010/02/21/the-new-normal/

We have watched Yura over the last days change from an orphan into a son.
There were six or eight people in the room when they brought Yura in for the first time into the orphanage director’s office where we were sitting. The director, a social worker, us, our facilitator, and a couple of others whose function I don’t know. Yura looked down most of the time. He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak except when asked questions. He let us hug him, but did not hug back. We talked to him for a few minutes through our translator about how we wanted him to be our son. It was like he knew that the verdict was in, but the sentence was not yet pronounced. Our facilitator asked him whether he wanted to be adopted. He said ‘yes’ but was not very convincing. We walked around with him for a little while afterwards through the orphanage. He didn’t know what to think. We didn’t know what to think. We could speak only in two-word phrases, but I think he knew that we loved him and that we wanted him as our son. And wanted him to love us back in time.

It was awkward and joyful all in the same moment.

On the way back from Balta (yes, the same trip where we ran out of gas), I sat next to Yura in the back seat with Caleb’s car seat. About an hour into the trip, he leaned his head on my shoulder. I put my arm around him and he relaxed. No one knows who Yura’s father was and I didn’t see any men at the orphanage, but was thankful for this small token of trust.

The next night, after a long day of little adventures, I asked Yura if he would like to wrestle. His face lit up like a sunrise. We wrestled and laughed and laughed and wrestled for half an hour with Owen joining in. It was like Yura had been waiting his whole life for someone he could jump on who would catch him.

Today, after another wrestling match, I was sitting with Yura and Owen in an arm chair watching a cartoon (I had never seen “The Rats of Nim” in Russian). I told Yura I loved him in Russian (Ya Tibya LooBloo) and Yura turned to me with a little smile and said for the first time, “Ya Papa LooBloo”.

Adopting Yura has been the most extraordinary adventure, and yet at times it seems strangely ordinary. Yura is our son. He sometimes disobeys, but we love him. He gets frustrated when Owen takes away his cars, but helps him up when he falls down. He can be silly and a little wild one minute and ready for bed the next. It is the craziest thing in the world that we are over here adding an eleven-year-old to our family, but it’s ordinary and normal and everyday. Why wouldn’t we give a home to child who doesn’t have one? What sense would that make? It wouldn’t be normal. I’m sure that the other foot has yet to drop. There is more to know about Yura. More to endure and much more joy to be gained.

I believe in the end that our story has two parts: Our adventure, and Yura’s life. Without this trip, our lives would have bumped right along as normal, but his would have been in peril.

And try as I might, I can’t rationalize how “normal” for us could have included leaving Yura in danger. Lord forgive me for the hundreds of other ways I have given up walking by faith for the sake of normal.