Little Saviors or Just the Saved?

“So your hope as a parent is not found in your power, your wisdom, your character, your experience, or your success, but in this one thing alone: the presence of your Lord. The Creator, Savior, Almighty, Sovereign King is with you. Let your heart rest. “

Paul David Tripp Parenting: 14 Gospel Principles That Can Radically Change Your Family

Wearing the weight of the world

She leaned over and stroked my arm. “Calm down, mother.” (She likes to say this with a faux English accent.) I wasn’t even talking, but she saw it on my face. I did actually need that reminder. Too much coffee and a fussy baby had strung my internal violin a tad high. In my head, I was busy trying to save the world.

Sister has suddenly become a very intuitive and empathetic little person. They say it has something to do with the development of the brain at this age. She used to live mostly oblivious to other’s emotions, like, to the point where I was a bit concerned. Her progression of understanding from other’s POV seems to have changed extraordinarily this year. I’m telling you, the constant gauge of how my face looks has caught me a little off guard. “You seem…stressed.” “You look…..mad.” “Are you…ok?” It’s sweet but also a little annoying if I’m being honest.

Like, who knew my thinking face was different from my normal face. Tired? No, just dreaming. Sad? No, just thinking. Are you ok? Are you ok? Are you ok? Sometimes I want to say “Unless you see me bleeding out on the floor or something, TRUST ME I AM OK!”

But she thinks out loud, and I do not. So I constantly have to reassure her that I’m normal-ish and happy, just not talking about it!

Relax, He’s got the whole world in His hands

But she does have it right, my brain is busy these days. Her artwork, pictured above, is what caused me to consider this topic of avoiding a savior complex. She loves to write sweet little notes when she perceives that I’m overwhelmed. She’ll craft a little card with a message like: “You are the best Mom. You wrok so hard.” Since I’m a millennial (’95) and know she has excellent phonics skills, I thought she meant I was awesome. But she meant work. We’re still wroking on our spelling. She is just too precious.

Her faith is so beautiful though. When I look at her, I see exactly what Jesus was talking about when he said in Matthew 18:3 that we need to have child-like faith. She is floating on a breeze, not a care in the world. She embodies a person who’s totally convinced that He’s got the whole world in His hands.

Little savior, or just the saved?

I began to realize my proper place. Jesus doesn’t need me to save them. He is already doing that.

As the firstborn of 11 (I know, amazing, right?) avoiding a savior complex has been an area of slow growth and revelation for me. I have a strong natural tendency to get wrapped up in my passion for protecting and caring for humans. I do feel a great level of responsibility toward them, especially the little ones. Probably to their dismay at times.

But as I started thinking and praying about this tendency of mine, it dawned on me that I put an awful lot of stock in myself. Misplacing my trust in the bigness of God wasn’t helping anyone, especially me. When we think about the incredible needs of waiting embryos, all of the above applies. Talk about a predicament much too big for us to handle. (If you’re new to the issue, check out our homepage and what is an embryo.) But I began to see my proper place in this spiritual warfare. Jesus doesn’t need me to save them. He is already doing it, and I am just a tool. A very grateful tool, because I surely don’t deserve these babies. God didn’t have to bless me this way.

Only Jesus saves

As adoptive parents, it is easy to fall into a savior mentality without even knowing we’re doing it. I get it, we’re all so passionate about adoption. But if we think ourselves to be heroes in our child’s story, we need to take a step back and re-evaluate who we are. Our kids don’t need us to save them; Jesus already did that. We are simply representative of Jesus, saturating the little dears with the same love and wisdom that has been graciously imparted to us. God is the only one perfect and powerful enough to save them, both physically and spiritually. We’re just here as restored walking dead who are anxious to pay it forward. (Ephesians 2:1-5)

“for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.”

-Philippians 2:13

Savior complex hurts us too

Those who have studied this mindset say that if we are symptomatic for savior complex, we better take a time-out. As Obi-Wan wisely advised when he was kindly offered some death-sticks “You want to go home and rethink your life.”

Failing to do so will lead to all kinds of fun experiences like burning ourselves into the ground.  Eventually, we’ll have nothing left to give, as our inner resources and outer shine gets sucked off by the needy mob.  If we don’t course-correct, we may even find ourselves in imbalanced dysfunctional relationships and neglecting our personal care. It can cause us to struggle with our mental health, leading to anxiety and depression. Our kids might fail to become independent and self-confident.  They never had to do a hard thing because Mom always swooped in to save the day. 

Friend, you and I were not designed with the capacity to carry all the needs of the world on our shoulders.

Take a deep breath

So here we stand as undeserving recipients of peace with God and the precious gift of adoption. (Romans 5:1-2) We live beneath waves of grace. Just blessed to be a part of something amazing that God is doing. It’s a magnificent thing to see Him make a way on all sides of embryo adoption before we even knew of each other’s need. It gives me goosebumps. That is how cool our Savior is.

My prayer is that our babies will see right past us and all of our flaws, straight into the beautiful face of Jesus. Psalm 139 confirms, He knew and saw our kids as embryos even as they were barely formed. You better believe He was providing solutions long before they came to be.

Our proper title -global positioning system?

To help myself in avoiding a savior complex, I like to think of myself as if I am a GPS. Sometimes a bit glitchy and not always correct. Just following through with what I was programmed to do. I was created to point others toward one so much greater and wiser than I.  If I am overloaded, I am allowed to crash.  Jesus will help all y’all get where you need to go with another app.

The way I see myself will cause my language and posture to reflect one of two things. Either Mom is a representative of the Savior, or Mom is a savior. Yikes. If the later is true, you poor little cuties are sorely out of luck. What a relief for both of us that God is totally sovereign over our good works. He is well aware of my inability to save even my own self (Ephesians 2:8-9) and I can relax in His sufficiency. John 5:15 I

Heaven’s rescue

As I am typing this, it’s really making me think. The random public is generally so kind. In the overwhelming majority of instances, my explanation of embryo adoption is met by awe and amazement. Top that off with a little sprinkle of praise and affirmation from the grandmotherly Grocery Outlet checkout lady, and suddenly I am at the epicenter of attention and praise. Only God deserves that spot. Often my reply to her flattery (as someone a little on the socially awkward spectrum) is something like “I know, isn’t it cool!” Embarrassing, I know. I can do better.

With a little tweaking and intention, my words will honor and protect my kids from exasperation. I want to directly humble myself as only a recipient of incredible grace and Providential forethought. Communicate to the watching world that I am simply a witness to God’s beautiful redemption in all of our lives. It’s not about me.

Aggravated much?

Colossians 3:21 warns us as parents to avoid provoking our children to anger, lest they lose heart.  I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that it would be pretty deflating to have a parent with a savior complex.  Especially an adoptive one.

It’s one thing to know we shouldn’t provoke our kids, and another to do it, isn’t it! Try as we may, we are never going to get it all right. We’re human. And as the closest ones to us, our kids are gonna see and feel our failures. This would be very discouraging as parents if we were not aware of 2 Cor. 12:9, which reminds us that His power is made perfect in our weakness.  We can repent and move on.  But how can we do better?  How can we communicate to our kids and the world that His power is the only reason we stand?

Love is…

1 Cor 13: 4-8 is a wonderful guide as we think about forming our response:

When in doubt…just ask

It’s a crazy God-thing, but our adopted embryo kiddos happen to look a lot like us. This leads to a lot of comments like “Wow, you look just like your mama!” Or “He looks just like Dad!” My autopilot was set to tell a condensed version of our story in reply.  I was SO EXCITED to share about embryo adoption. This was probably a totally fine response when our daughter was 2 years old, maybe. Now that she was 6 or 7, I felt it was important for her to have the final say in who gets to know and how.  So, I asked her one day.

“Sister, when someone remarks that you look just like me, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to share the story, or just say “Yes, she’s my pretty little little spittin’ image!” and leave it at that?” She chose the latter. I was surprised at her response. It changed my whole perspective.

One way we can protect our kids is simply by asking them questions and allowing them to speak for themselves. They don’t need to be constantly reminded of their previous peril in front of every random citizen. I mean, how would you feel if you were rescued by, say, Superman and had to follow him around for the rest of your life.  It would get old to hear him recount your weakest moment at the grocery store every week!

Maybe they will love to tell the story.  They probably will if all the glory truly goes to God and not us.  This is such a simple and easy way to honor their needs above our own.

Sympathetic and tenderhearted

Finally, all of you, have unity of mind, sympathy, brotherly love, a tender heart, and a humble mind. -1 Peter 3:8

As people who have struggled with infertility, we are specially equipped in this realm. We can sympathize with our kids when they wonder or fantasize about what might have been. In a perfect world, you and I would be Genesis 1:28 -ing all over the place. God’s perfect order was a man and a woman, blessed to fruitfully multiply and fill the earth. As an infertile couple, that blessing was stolen from us because sin entered the world and ruined God’s perfect design.

When you think about it for a minute, you’ll see how easily we can relate to our donor conceived babies. If you are a Christian who sees children as a blessing, you’ve probably felt that twinge of shame and sadness. You saw yet another pregnancy announcement or someone bragging about their kids, and were surprised by your emotional response.  You prayed, and prayed, and prayed for a miracle.   Has God forgotten me? What did I do wrong? You might have wondered.

We can’t blame our babies for possessing the same inner knowing that this world is messed up.  God’s perfect order was for children to be raised and loved by their biological family.  Our kids might feel shame and sadness at some point in their lives, and that is normal and ok. 

We all feel the effects of sin in the world on one level or another.  The Bible says that even creation groans in pain because of sin.  My dear, your empathy could be like a hug to the souls of these little ones.

Listening well

It may be hard for us to hear our kids communicate that they wish things were different. They are, after all, the perfect answer to all of our prayers. 1 Peter 3:8 will help us prepare our response to their longing with an open ear and an empathetic spirit. They lost something, just like us. But we are adults, and they are kiddos. Because we said YES to this adoption adventure, we are now privileged to put their needs ahead of ours. We are Jesus’ hands and feet to bind their wounds with His hope and truth. If we want them to thrive, we need to learn to be good listeners.

“I wish we knew who your bio siblings were, too. I bet they are sweet and a lil silly, just like you.”

“I’m sorry we don’t know what your bio parents are like. Maybe someday we can help you find them!”

Our response at the grocery check-out

When the topic of our adoption comes up, how can we use 1 Cor. 13:4-8 and 1 Peter 3:8 in our responses? I need your help, because I don’t have this one nailed down yet. Let me know your ideas in the comments. <3

“Not to us, Lord, not to us
    but to your name be the glory,
    because of your love and faithfulness.
Why do the nations say,
    “Where is their God?”

Our God is in heaven;
    he does whatever pleases him.” -Psalm 115:1-3