Best 315 quotes in «adoption quotes» category

Dating a wo/man with a child is adoption … without the paperwork.

Destiny is not always preordained. Life is about making choices. Our lives are the sum of all the choices we make, the bridges we cross, and the ones we burn. Our souls cast long shadows over many people, even after we are gone. Fate, luck, and providence are the consequence of our freedom of choice, not the determinants. When justice is served by following our principles, making good decisions brings us inner peace.

De adoptie van mijn dochter gaf mij meer dan het moederschap alleen.

Diese Treffen mit meiner leiblichen Familie gaben mir seltsamerweise zum ersten Mal in meinem Leben das Gefühl, dass tatsächlich irgendwie alles in Ordnung war. Familie ist wichtig, und ich hatte meine zurück […] Zu wissen, woher ich kam, meinen biologischen Ursprung zu kennen, erlaubte mir, auf überraschende Weise Dinge an mir selbst zu sehen und zu akzeptieren.

Even though you weren't born to us, you grew in our hearts. We will be forever connected because love is what makes a family.

Discovering that I was adopted redefined my entire world, but it taught me that who you are doesn't change.

Every November on National Adoption Day, courts set aside time to finalize adoptions from foster care that might otherwise be delayed for months, and communities celebrate adoption with retreats, proclamations, and other events. National Adoption Day was started in 2000 and has grown each year. In 2004, courts and community organizations finalized the adoptions of more than 3,400 children from foster care as part of 200 National Adoption Day events in 37 states.

For my sake,” he said firmly, addressing the air in front of him as though it were a tribunal, “I dinna want ye to bear another child. I wouldna risk your loss, Sassenach,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “Not for a dozen bairns. I’ve daughters and sons, nieces and nephews, grandchildren—weans enough.” He looked at me directly then, and spoke softly. “But I’ve no life but you, Claire.” He swallowed audibly, and went on, eyes fixed on mine. “I did think, though . . . if ye do want another child . . . perhaps I could still give ye one.

Families don’t have to match. You don’t have to look like someone else to love them.” -Leigh Anne Tuohy

Having a blood family means suddenly revising a definition of family that I have, over many years, learned to accept. How can I hold both concepts in my mind or find room for both families in my heart?

God has made you honorable (Isa. 43:4), being kings and priests, and enrolled you among the firstborn that are written in heaven. You have a place in His heart and will be honored that we might be to "the glory of his grace" [Eph. 1:6]. Your everlasting Father has marked you and set His stamp and seal on you and put a principle of life within you that you might love Him and live to Him.

He was taking a leap here, negotiating with a crackhead, under the table, in a dark cantina. The courage etched on his face came from loving Aidia so much he’d close his eyes and walk through fire to see her safe.

Happiness is a conscious choice we make for ourselves. It has to come from within.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed last night in his pajamas she said. And I saw the back of his neck, this fragile slender stem of a neck and it struck me all at once that there was nobody anywhere any place on this planet who would look at that little neck and just have to reach out and cup a hand behind it. you know how you just have to touch your child sometimes? How you drink him in with your eyes and you could stare at him for hours and you marvel at how dear and impossible perfect he is? And that will never again happen to Douglas. He has nobody left on earth who thinks he's special [...] I need this. I have to do this! I cannot see that little stem of a neck and let him go on alone in this world. I can't! I'd rather die!

I am so touched at how my family has embraced my situation. They don't even know this child, and they already love her.

...I am about eight years old when I first become aware of being other--foreign, outside, separate. Because this lesson comes from my own family, it resonates deeper and truer than playground taunts ever have.

I am an amalgam. I will always be something glued together, something slightly broken. It is not something I might recover from but something I must accept, to live with- with compassion.

I don't understand this--when people love you so much they are willing to get rid of you. I think if I loved someone that much I'd want to stay with them. It doesn't make sense that love would make a mother leave, and I wonder when this mother will love me that much too. I get the idea that love might be something to both desire and fear, and maybe if we don't love each other too much I won't have to go away again. I wonder why love works for everyone else, but it doesn't work for me.

I believe one of the most sacrificial acts of love adoptive parents can do is to give up their preconceptions and agendas about what their child's views "should" be and be open to hear the conflicting emotions and thoughts their child often experiences.

If Children are God's Gift then adopted are God's child.

If every Christian family in the United States would simply commit to pray and ask God if HE wants to use them to bless a child without a family, well, we'd change the world. If we can get the church to think about adoption not in terms of the desires of adults but in terms of the needs of children, I think we'd see on a much grander scale how God sets the lonely in families.

I feel the swelling energy, the inexplicable, restless hunger, rising in my own innocent life. I don't care at all about the music or the drinking or the gathering together of teenagers for fun and the thrill of belonging. But my father is gone. He has a new life, a new wife and daughter, and never calls or visits. I miss him badly. My mother is inaccessible. My older brother and sister have moved on to their own lives, leaving me alone at home and on the beach while my mother works and plays with Peter.

I don't know anyone who remembers meeting their parents when they were a baby so i'm just like everybody else. -Zoey (100% Real)

If we adopted Jack," I quip, "we'd have to give him combat pay for an allowance

If God is calling you to adopt, He will accomplish it. If God is leading you to care for the fatherless across the globe in some way other than adoption, He will accomplish it.

If the system were designed to protect adoptees, why do so many have to fight for their rights?

If you should choose to look at those files, you will have to live with the consequences of your choices while, at the same time, being mindful that these choices will not only effect you, but will also infect, sorry, I intended to say effect, our entire family.

I intend to be an outstanding mother and provide a stable, nurturing home. I’ve read all the latest parenting books and scoured the websites. I’m prepared.

If you don’t have your own identity, you will adopt the brand of another

I learned that you need not be born into a family to be loved by one.

If you are financially affluent, think of adopting a kid and raise him or her right next to your biological offspring. And let your love become the proof of your parenthood, instead of your DNA.

I love them both as though I birthed them both, but also as though I adopted them both.

If you are going to start, don't quit. But if you are going to quit, don't even start!

I'm eternally grateful to {our birth mother}, but wish I had never needed her. It's a loaded friendship, a complex connection.

Imagine you’re visiting a place where there’s little to no English spoken and you wake up one day to find that the group you went with has all gone home and you are left there alone.

Indeed for all of us who are believers, our present circumstances and futures aren't defined by our pasts. Our identities are found in Christ alone. As believers in Christ, we were adopted into God's family. Adoption. It's a beautiful thing.

I love Russia because Russia gave me you.

I'm ready for the day when Mom loves me too much to keep me, and for every other person who will someday see that I'm not worth holding on to.

I'm scared,' I said, 'There doesn't seem to be any way out.' 'No,' Beth corrected me, 'there are in fact several ways out, but all of them are painful. You have to know your own tolerance for pain, what you can endure, what you know you can live with and what you can't live without.

I never wanted to find my birth parents - if one set of parents felt like a misfortune, two sets would be self-destructive... I had no idea that you could like your parents or that they could love you enough to let you be yourself.

I must acknowledge that though his adoption embodies graciousness, it is also a reminder this world is not as it should be. Brokenness permeates our world. Sure, beauty is born from ashes, but the ashes don't just magically disappear. Suffering and all that is wrong in this world still exists. This side of heaven, tragedy remains and the moments of her son becoming ours is a representation of joy and suffering deeply intertwined. Our son, the living proof and blessing that love is what makes a family, reminds us that adoption is born out of undeniable loss. Irrevocable loss of wholeness, of what was meant to be. To only acknowledge the beauty without giving voice to the tragedy, is to detract from adoption. In diminishing the tragedy of adoption, I decrease my son's story, along with others a part of the adoption circle. I would be choosing to ignore a massive portion of who he is.

In the world of the Bible, one’s identity and one’s vocation are all bound up in who one’s father is. Men are called “son of” all of their lives (for instance, “the sons of Zebedee” or “Joshua, the son of Nun”). There are no guidance counselors in ancient Canaan or first-century Capernaum, helping “teenagers” decide what they want “to be” when they “grow up.” A young man watches his father, learns from him, and follows in his vocational steps. This is why “the sons of Zebedee” are right there with their father when Jesus finds them, “in their boat mending the nets” (Mark 1:19-20). The inheritance was the engine of survival, passed from father to son, an economic pact between generations. To lose one’s inheritance was to pilfer for survival, to become someone’s slave.

Ironically, we practically have to be sainted to get through the adoption process, but any fool can spawn and have a baby, tra la la.

I originally feared she might be dead, which felt like a sealed book that I would never be able to read. To have a birth mother die before getting any closure or answers seemed like it would be a cruel twist of fate.

I should’ve died with my parents… than live in this world,” I say, my voice is faint He asks, “Why choose to die if you can live this world?” He chuckled. I gave him a faint smile and say, “A world so hateful, some would rather die, than be who they are.

I reached down and picked up a baseball bat at my feet and I flung it as hard as it could. It circled and arced high in the air until it slammed against the side of the dining hall with a crack and fell. I sat down in the dirt. Then I lay down in the dirt. Because not only was there no trail to follow, there was no evidence he’d ever been here. There was no evidence any of them had been here.

It is not imitation that makes sons. It is sonship that make imitators.

I saw the bruises, the burns, the cuts— I knew which ones had been done to you by someone you thought you could trust. Someone you thought loved you. I knew which ones you gave yourself.

It is the first time I have felt truly South African. When the orchestra strikes up the opening chords of the national anthem, and the entire stadium stands, I have found my voice and I sing ‘Nkosi sikelel’ iAfrika!’ I look to the gogo who had earlier taken my arm and I put my hand in hers. My people, I think to myself. My people.

It is now clear that faith is a singular pledge of paternal love, treasured up for the sons whom he has adopted.