Katie R. Hurst

We are coming up on our one year post placement meeting with our social worker. When she emailed me to make the appointment I was shocked. How has it already been nearly a year? It feels like last week. Truly. Looking back on this year I don't even know how to put it to words. This is the year that God brought me to the very end of myself and asked me to keep walking. This is the year when everything I thought I had figured out about my life, my heart, my soul, fell to pieces. It was, quite frankly, my undoing. I was not strong enough to do this. Last February I was handed one tiny, fragile eleven pound four year old. She called me "Mama," on the very first day, and then nearly collapsed for days to come. She couldn't walk, couldn't drink, couldn't crawl. And I thought God was asking too much.  And then God handed me another four year old. I had loved her for years, watched her video a million times. I knew her, but then I didn't. She ...

I have worked this over and over and over and one more time over again in my head. Still, I feel there is no easy way to write about this subject. If ever there was a hot spot in the adoption world it will come when you hear the word, "disruption." Hello Trolls, I'm glad you found me today. I figured that word would bring you to me here. I'm going to put my heart out here for you on this. Most of you know my story. If you are new, the short version is that almost three years ago we entered adoption with the adoption of our son, almost a year ago I headed to China to bring home our two daughters. Blind, they were blind and as far as I knew, a little delayed from institutionalization. Daughter one was placed in my arms and she surpassed my expectations while still being very fragile and very delayed and needy. Daughter two came one week later and my precious, longed for daughter who walked in videos and had language skills, slumped into my arms and growled. I chose ...

He is faithful and He always has been.  When the third child comes into our bedroom at night, He is faithful. When my son's friend dies without ever knowing a mom or a dad and my heart shatters, He is faithful. When I stroke the scars of a child who is my own and  am wrecked with the irrational guilt that I should  have been there, He is faithful. He is faithful when I let go of His hand. When I doubt His goodness, when I scream at Him for this desert, when I beg for respite, and when I throw a tantrum when respite never comes, He is faithful. When I can't stop the anxiety, the panic,  He is faithful.  When the screaming begins anew and I am surviving just one minute  at a time,  He is faithful. When I ache over the aging out child whom nobody would claim,  and am angry with all of His children,  He is faithful. When I find hidden food in the crevices of beds, He is faithful. When I liv...

I grew up in a world where special needs were all around me. My mom was a special education teacher and she brought kids into our home who had special and unique needs. It was perfectly normal to read books with pictures of children in wheelchairs or see hearing aids sitting on the counter at home. With that in mind I walked into special needs parenting with rose colored glasses. I knew in the back of my head that moms have to stand up for their children and that not everyone is accepting of them, yet somehow it became a distant thought that I would be dealing with the ugliness of humanity as I drank in the beauty of my newest daughters. They are so lovely that it shadows the darkness that is out there. But those rose colored glasses have been thrown in the mud and smeared so much so that I can no longer see through them. I'm taking up the battle of the special needs parent. Today, my post may seem like I'm starting a battle. So be it. Adults have recoiled their hands whe...

Today you yelled, said words you never thought would pass your lips. Yesterday you stopped holding fiercely onto hope.  You chucked a piece of bread against a wall and watched it crumble to the ground.  It seemed poetic to you. The dishes are spilling beyond the boundaries of the sink and the counter is shining back to you with water as its mockery. Some moms have weekly meal lists and you have a frozen pizza. Your Pinterest boards hold thousands of pins. And they stay there, pinned, convincing you that you are worthless. Your friends post pictures of being dressed up for a date night while you  hope for just one day without screaming at each other.  Your children have watched you come unglued. They have heard words that rightly shame your soul.  You are battered and bruised and your soul is begging you with every whisper to retreat into hiding. Hide this shame. Hide this ugliness. Hide the words spoken. Hide the terror of your heart. Hide th...

Adoption is hard. Broken souls and broken people trying to climb impossible mountains every single day. Sometimes we watch as those in our community are broken further by disruptions and dissolved adoptions. Both of these are the loss of so many dreams on every end. We need to do better as a community. Can you help by taking just three minutes and filling out this survey? It is completely anonymous. I can't track it back to you. It give me no names, no IP addresses. It is just to collect data and help find ways to assist families after adoption. I know you are busy people and three minutes is nearly impossible, but thank you for taking time to do this for yourself, for me, for our community. Together we will build a better and stronger adoption community. Create your own user feedback survey

674 153,000,000 256,258,538 1 3 A. Number of kids on Reece's Rainbow from China B. Number of orphans worldwide C. Average number of Americans identifying themselves as Christian D. Number of children I personally knew of that died alone this week. E. Number of children I know of this month alone that were disrupted and sent back to their orphanages after a family came for them. Christians you mock this being you call God. If humanity has failed in this, then surely you are far more culpable. I cannot release you  from your part in this tragedy. Evil has lulled you into a sense of comfort and you never even saw it coming for you. Your church attendance, your Sunday School teaching does nothing to alleviate you of this guilt. One died this week, three in the last two weeks disrupted and were left behind. I cannot begrudge our sweet Katie for her entrance into heaven, but I can cry that my human race failed her during her time here. I can break f...