In the Blood

I like John Mayer. I'm not ashamed. He's one of the great modern day poets. Listen. Really. Here's a song that's got me choked up lately:

How much of my mother has my mother left in me?
How much of my love will be insane to some degree?
And what about this feeling that I'm never good enough?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

How much of my father am I destined to become?
Will I dim the lights inside me just to satisfy someone?
Will I let this woman kill me, or do away with jealous love?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel love the I want, I can feel the love I need
But it's never gonna come the way I am
Could I change it if I wanted, can I rise above the flood?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

How much like my brothers, do my brothers wanna be?
Does a broken home become another broken family?
Or will we be there for each other, like nobody ever could?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel love the I want, I can feel the love I need
But it's never gonna come the way I am
Could I change it if I wanted, could I rise above the flood?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel the love I want, I can feel the love I need
But it's never gonna come the way I am
Could I change it if I wanted, can I rise above the flood?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

In our parenting class for prospective foster/adoptive parents, we were making a list of positives and negatives about foster/adopted kids. One I hadn't thought of is that a child who isn't biologically your own won't share your worst behaviors, traits, or family tendencies. You know what I'm talking about. When your kid looks at you with a snotty face and says some cutting remark and it seems familiar, because you've said it and done it in the same way.

But it's also scary. Scary to take on a new person who you don't know. Their origins, their history, their perspective. We've always told our kids out loud, "I'm glad God made you a Goudy." If I believe that, if I really do, then I have to believe that God put me in my family, too. And that God put kids who will come to our home in their families. Obviously, it didn't work out for a time, but it doesn't mean they aren't who they are meant to be.

Family's a tricky thing. It can mean everything to some people, it can mean nothing to others. It can be the beginning of pain or it can be rememberances of deep joy. I won't pretend that my family or my kids are perfect. They aren't because we are people. But they're pretty good at loving and welcoming others in. They're good at putting extra beds up and moving things around to make some space.