Lessons from a Farmhouse Table

I've always wanted to have a farmhouse table for our kitchen. Our table is not small but when you add one or two extra people to it, it gets full fast. There's just not much space for the food to sit on it. There's nothing wrong with the table, it actually was my mom's when she was a child. I love it, but when I think of adding a kid or two, it suddenly feels very cramped.

The fact that we are in the fourth year of our adoption journey has given me a slight glimmer of hope that something might happen sooner rather than later. (I've said that for a while now!) Being the DIY (do-it-yourself) addict that I am, I decided I wanted to make my OWN table. So, I got on Pinterest, found some free plans of an awesome table and called in reinforcements--my Daddy.

I had several things going for me...
1. I'm a good copycat. As long as I have directions or I can figure out how to make something, I'm OK. I get that skill from my Mommy.

2. My Daddy has lots of fancy tools and so do several of my friends.

3. My Daddy has minimal woodworking skills and I took shop class for one semester in 8th grade.

Obviously, we were ready for this task.

Who cares that we had never actually made a table before or put together anything bigger than a birdhouse? We've got this.

The past week I've realized some striking parallels between my Daddy and me building a farmhouse table and adoption.

So proud of our table top!

The desire to do something can outweigh the importance of knowing exactly how to do something. Daddy and I stepped back from the table after we put the top on and just looked at each other in shock. We couldn't believe it actually looked like a table and not a mangled piece of wood. We didn't really know exactly what we were doing, but we followed the limited plans. We were determined. Failure was not an option.

Adoption is pretty similar, we don't know exactly what we are doing or how it's going to go down, but we are determined. Guidance from adoption agencies, blogs, books and other adoptive families is important, but it’s not going to fill in all the blanks when things happen. We know parenting our girls hasn't prepared us for parenting a traumatized child, but we are going to figure it out. We anticipate that challenge.

Things do not go as planned. Corrections have to be made. When we put the table top on it looked awesome, then we put our weight on the corner and it wobbled. I must admit that took a little air out of my sails; obviously I didn't pay attention as well as I thought in shop class when I made that napkin holder. Fortunately, as things like this arose we typically were able to figure out a simple solution when we put our brains together.

You have to make decisions with little or no guidance from the instructions. Things have come up while making this table and the details of how to handle each situation are not found in the instructions. Right now we are going through some additional training from our adoption agency. It's great info, but there is no way they can tell us how things are going to go when we bring home our child or children.

Nothing’s perfect. Sometimes the wood is warped, sometimes it has knots, sometimes it splits. So what do you do? You work with it. The knots are hard to put a screw through, but they are beautiful parts of the wood that give it character and make it unique. Warped wood is difficult to work with, but it's possible. People are the same way. They aren't perfect--they have experiences that have affected them and you have to learn to work with those challenges.

Security blankets help. I would never have attempted this own my own. Unlocking one of the saws was hard enough. It took me three YouTube videos and taking one saw to Lowe's just to figure out how to unlock the protective locking mechanism. Working with my Dad made all the difference. I know it was that way for him too. Just having someone stand with you when you are a little uncertain about what you are doing is immensely helpful. Kev and I have lots of security blankets. People who we know will help us, encourage us and walk with us through this journey. So many of you already have been doing that. Your encouragement and support makes all the difference.

Everyone involved makes an impact--good or bad. My cousin helped me pick the plans. My Dad and I were the builders. Kev helped with some sanding and filling some holes. My Mom helped with staining and sealing. Our child is going to have multiple people in their lives who have impacted their lives. Their biological parents, foster parents, doctors, orphanage workers, other children they live with, neighbors, you name it, these people will have affected them in huge ways that may last a lifetime. Their orphan situation alone will be traumatic. Changing primary caregivers is difficult. Moving to our home will be difficult and scary.

There's going to be some scars. All of those people and situations mentioned above will leave their mark on our kiddo and it will affect all our kiddos, bio and adoptive. They will also leave their mark on us. We all will be dealing with the repercussions of attachment issues, adoptive life and a traumatic early childhood. It's something we've discussed as a family and are as prepared for as we can be. Our adoptive child will deal with this their entire life and so will we.

Scars are difficult. They shape us--in good and bad ways. They are a part of who we are, but they do not define us. Jesus defines us and He brings hope in the midst of what looks like an incredibly hard and potentially impossible process. In all honesty, my dad and I were praising Jesus every time a board actually went in correctly or we figured out a solution because something didn't work correctly. It has and will be the same through this adoption. Let me remind you and myself, adoption isn't over when you bring those kids home. The challenge is just beginning.

Lowe's shopping trip

I look at my table and I see more than a place to sit. I see room for more family and friends. I see family talks. Kids doing homework. I see children given a home and a space. I see obstacles that were overcome. I see where I patched a moving frame with glue and my Mom painted over it to make it less noticeable. I see lots of laughs, stress, quality time and memories with my Daddy. I see something beautiful that came out of a lot of 2x4’s, 4x4’s and 2x6’s, screws, glue, sandpaper, and sneezing from sawdust that was all over our garage.

The table was hard work, but everything that is going to come with it was worth it.