Blog Archives
Exploring Forgiveness
Praying for a Wounded Child is a devotional prayer guide designed specifically for family members and caregivers of children who have been victims of trauma. Why was this an important book for you to write?
After perusing numerous books on prayer for one’s children as well as books on traumatized children, I noted a clear absence of books on praying specifically for traumatized children. Thus, I felt that foster parents and adoptive parents, as well as families facing battles, could best be strengthened by combining prayers along with information and guidance on traumatized children.
My heart’s desire herein is to spiritually, emotionally, and practically support those brave parents who deeply love and advocate for their wounded children. Briefly, too, I sought to use my education and experience as a mental health therapist and hospital chaplain as well as my trajectory as a parent to kids from hard places.
The book begins with the caregiver’s relationship with God before focusing on the child. Why was that sequence important to you?
This is an excellent question, and this order was intentional. An ocean of wisdom and strength is available in the Lord, as He can truly comfort and guide one. Moreover, checking the motives of one’s heart and offering forgiveness, even mentally, can liberate a caregiver’s mind and soul. Therefore, the critical area of forgiveness is duly explored.
In exploring forgiveness and various other aspects of a caregiver’s relationship with God, my intention was to first seek restoration and renewal for the caregiver spiritually as well as replenishment. Obviously, replenishment, renewal, and restoration are needed for a caregiver to give from a full bucket, as that saying goes.
What do you think caregivers often misunderstand about trauma in children?
Akin to grief, trauma in children is not the same as trauma with adults.
Generally, children lack critical thinking skills until roughly age 12 and sometimes even later, particularly with boys. Children’s verbal and processing skills are not fully established and present as their brains are still developing. Adults may be able to heal somewhat through verbalization, yet a child may need art or play with a healthy adult to begin to openly verbalize (and it may be minimal) or process their pain.
Children’s language, love language, and often their healing mechanism is play. And yes, a gift one can give to a child is to enter his or her world and play with what the child is drawn to, even if the child is not significantly wounded.
Additionally and notably, the child’s emotions may seem frozen or buried after the trauma, unlike some adults.
Thus, support groups for children where they are present with other children who have been traumatized, especially with a similar trauma, may help relieve the pain in a safe environment. These groups also may address and free a wounded child from a sense of loneliness and isolation in their pain. Examples are grief groups for kids (often found through hospices), Alateen, and foster care and adoption groups for kids.
I also wish to discourage parents from unknowingly denying or suppressing a child’s pain when the emotions come forth. Compensation, such as taking them out for ice cream, promising a gift, etc., is so easy to offer to stop the tears, big emotions, etc.
I totally understand that, and honestly, have been guilty of that as well. I truly believe this is a knee-jerk parental reaction, as it hurts us to see our child in pain.
Yet compassionate listening with statements such as, “I am so glad you are sharing this with me,” “Tell me more.” “I am not leaving you. I love you.” and “Please keep talking. I want to just listen to you.” or “I am here for you.” can heal, ensure a child’s safety with emotions, and facilitate a depth of bonding.
If a reader could take away one truth from Praying for a Wounded Child, what would you want it to be?
Raising a wounded child can be a profound vehicle to make us like Christ, meaning drawing one to Him as well as learning to respond to the child in a Christlike manner. Rather than viewing this as a burden (which can be easy to do as a human being), one can have the perspective of seeing this journey as a means to deeper prayer, a more understanding and empathetic walk with the wounded, and an opportunity to seek the heart of God for a wounded child.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website | Amazon
Feeling Alone or Overwhelmed in the Journey?
In Praying for a Wounded Child, Wells offers a soul-stirring devotional born from her and her husband’s personal wrestling in prayer through unexpected issues as they parented all their cherished children which includes children from hard places. Her master’s degree in mental health counseling, and considerable experience with traumatized children lends to Virginia Wells’s authentic ability to empathize with parents involved in similar circumstances.
As you journey with Wells, you’ll encounter hope, wisdom, and relentless faith.
This riveting devotional goes beyond a good parenting book, and offers practical and spiritual guidance, cultivating a deeper relationship with Christ. Guidance and comfort are generously provided while still considering the emotional needs of your child.
You will discover prayers and insights about:liberating forgiveness
prejudice
the Luke 2:52 prayer
journaling intercession
attachment issues
extended family and siblings
identity
education
incarceration
abandonment
abuse
self-care
and more
Embrace a profound journey toward hope and healing, rediscovering the transformative power of prayer for both you and your children. This devotional is a beacon of hope for parents seeking understanding, clarity, and solace amid the concerns and challenges of parenting a wounded child.
The author will be donating 50 to 100 per cent of the profits of this book to help human trafficking survivors and other God-honoring, compassionate charities.
Spell Roma Backwards
Spell Roma Backwards is Debbie Barrow Michael’s tender, grief-soaked continuation of her family’s story with Roma, the spirited Russian boy she adopted after what she describes as a direct call from God. The book follows Roma from his magnetic childhood into the turbulent years of young adulthood, through rebellion, rehab, radiant faith, reunion with his birth family, and finally his devastating death after a fall. What begins as an adoption memoir becomes something larger and stranger: a meditation on obedience, motherhood, divine mystery, and the way love keeps speaking after loss.
I was moved by how unwilling the book is to flatten Roma into either a miracle child or a cautionary tale. He’s charming, maddening, funny, impulsive, tender, and impossible to contain. I kept thinking about the boy who forgives Rocky again and again, inviting him to play baseball even after being bullied, and then the young man who can turn a punishment into “a nice adventure” after walking to practice in the rain. Those moments make the later darkness hurt more, because the reader has already fallen for him. Michael writes motherhood with an aching honesty I admired. She doesn’t pretend that faith made parenting simple. Her “tough love” is full of trembling. Her prayers are sometimes brave and sometimes desperate. That felt true to me.
The writing has the intimate, gathering quality of testimony, and at its best, it glows with lived-in detail: the lonely basketball hoop, the pink roses blooming where they shouldn’t, the eerie repetition of the number seven, the taxi in Georgia filling with Beatles songs while two families, divided by language and history, sing through tears. This is about a mother trying to make meaning without reducing pain, trying to keep hold of God and her son at the same time. The idea at the heart of the book, that Roma spelled backward becomes amor, lands not like a clever title but like a hard-won benediction.
By the end, I felt less as though I had read a neatly shaped memoir than as though I had been entrusted with a family’s sacred archive. Spell Roma Backwards is sorrowful, searching, and unexpectedly bright, a book about a son who could not be managed, explained, or forgotten. It closes with grief still breathing, but also with gratitude strong enough to stand beside it. I’d recommend it especially to readers drawn to Christian memoirs, adoption stories, testimonies of loss and faith, and books that treat grief not as something to solve, but as something love learns to carry.
Pages: 307 | ASIN : B0DPDX3Q4Y
The Power of Secrets
In ILLEGITIMATE, you share with readers your personal journey to find truth, identity, and peace as you search for your biological father and your family’s ties to the Lebensborn program in Nazi Germany. What inspired you to share your story with others?
This is a question I had to ask myself for three years before I decided to put pen to paper. After all, some of my aunts and my uncle were still alive and well, and this is certainly not a happy subject to chit-chat about. I was transparent with them in my interest to write a book and received minimal pushback from only one of my cousins. My aunt certainly helped when she emphatically stated, “I want the truth to be known!” That is the power of secrets: they always want to be revealed.
You write powerfully about feeling unwanted and unclaimed as a child. How did you approach writing those early emotional experiences?
I realized a long time ago that good things can come out of bad experiences, and I believe my sense of independence and perseverance was developed out of a desperate desire for inner joy. It has to be innate, not provided by others.
Did you feel a sense of responsibility in telling this part of history through your family’s experience?
Most certainly! I suppose that’s why it took almost ten years of researching, writing, rewriting, rewriting, rewriting… I needed for the story to roll easily off my tongue as I read it to myself. Any pauses or stops in a paragraph required scrutiny, hence all the revisions. It paid off; my family has been very supportive and complimentary, even those who were cast in a not-so-pleasant light.
Do you feel a sense of closure, or is this an ongoing process?
I feel a type of closure. I understand and can empathize with my mother and her choices, as well as my father, who had his options taken away from him, my aunt, and her strength to accept herself for what she was, the additional quirks of other family members, and all things that went undiscussed. The most amazing closure came from my late-in-life relationship with my father. I am very much like him, and that was amazing, because I had never found any similarities with my mother. It was a DNA confirmation! I can certainly understand why adoptees feel the need to find their biological parent(s). My one huge regret is that my mother passed away in 2013, and I never had a chance to tell her I now understood her choices—how healing that would have been for both of us!
Author Links: Goodreads | Facebook | Website | Amazon
Determined to chase her dreams, Susi joins a dance troupe, leaving her infant daughter, Maddie, in the care of her mother, Katharina—a resilient woman who has already raised six children, three with different fathers. Six years later, Susi returns, now engaged to an American Army officer. Maddie is taken from her grandmother and adopted to be raised in America.
As Maddie grows, she wrestles with her fractured identity and, decades later, finds her way back to her German roots. Just before her 60th birthday, a shocking confession from her Aunt Sieglinde shatters everything she thought she knew: her beloved grandmother once participated in a Nazi eugenics program that encouraged “racially correct” unions to produce children for Hitler’s vision.
That revelation ignites Maddie’s quest to uncover the truth about her own father—a journey that intertwines generations, secrets, and the unyielding need to belong.
ILLEGITIMATE is the true story of two women who had to uncover the identities of their fathers in order to truly understand themselves.
Have a Good Trip, Lucky! A Dog Diplomat Adventure Series
This children’s book follows Lucky, a sweet little dog from Conakry, Guinea, who gets adopted by a U.S. diplomat and then has to travel across the world when his owner gets transferred to Washington, DC. The book tells the story through Lucky’s eyes, so you feel every bit of his confusion, fear, and excitement as he goes from Africa to France to the United States. Along the way, Lucky meets new friends, kind people, and even learns what it means to be brave and loved across distances. By the end, Lucky understands that even though his “trip” was scary at first, it brought him to new family and adventures.
I really liked how this picture book mixes heart and real-world experiences. You can feel the author’s love for animals and her deep understanding of the Foreign Service life. The writing is simple enough for kids, but it still carries a lot of emotion. It’s a tender story about trust, change, and belonging. And the idea of showing life through the eyes of a traveling dog was brilliant. It gives kids a safe, gentle way to explore big feelings like separation and homesickness without it ever feeling too heavy.
The illustrations are so warm and full of life. They make every scene feel colorful and comforting. And I loved the glossary and tips at the end. They turn the story into something more than a bedtime read. It becomes a small lesson in global living, empathy, and courage. You can tell the author’s background in diplomacy shaped how thoughtfully she explains the idea of travel and duty. There’s a quiet pride behind every word.
I’d definitely recommend Have a Good Trip, Lucky! for kids who have parents in the military, Foreign Service, or any job that involves moving a lot. It’s also perfect for any child who has ever had to say goodbye, even for a little while. The story is gentle, hopeful, and real. It reminds you that home isn’t just one place. It’s the people, and sometimes the pets, who love you no matter where in the world you end up.
Pages: 38 | ISBN : 1779445385
We Can Do This Better
The Adoption Paradox weaves together your story, historical records, and interviews with nearly a hundred people from across the “adoption constellation” into an unflinching look at the industry’s ethical and emotional complexities. Why was this an important book for you to write?
I started out wanting to write a deep exploration of adoption’s emotional complexities from all sides. I’m very new to this internal awakening in my life’s journey. As an adoptee from a standard closed adoption from 1965, I had an overall good experience. As my parent’s only child, I felt loved and accepted for the most part within my family and our larger culture.
Then in 2020 with both of my adopted parents gone, I finally started to search for my birth family, which fueled the emotional curiosity that led to this work. I read books written by adoptees about their search. Then others about the birth mothers who relinquished us back in the era I was born in. What I learned shocked and saddened me. I felt this deep inner shift, and started questioning the typical storyline I’d always been fed. It was one thing to know that in ’65 my mother didn’t have the same choices I did growing up in the 1980s. It was another thing to come face to face with how badly many of these young women were treated.
There was more to tell in all of this I was sure, but I didn’t see any other books out there that had the voices and the deep research and thru lines for everyone in the adoption triad: adoptees, along with birth and adoptive parents. So, I decided to audaciously tackle that niche myself. That’s what started it all. This book is for me, in part, but my hope is that in reconciling the stories within, others find it helpful too.
What were some ideas that were important for you to share in this book?
There is no one adoption story. Ever. There are many sides, and all have this vastly diverse lived experience, even within one family. You can have an adoptee who feels completely seen and understood by the people who raise them, and another who feels isolated, lost and alone and their parents have no idea they are struggling. That’s heartbreaking. Adoption always begins with a loss, and our society completely forgets that narrative in popular culture. It’s just assumed we are lucky as adoptees, and that our families are fantastic! The truth is it’s often a mix.
There are misconceptions and oversimplifications about adoption and foster care among the general public. Adoption can heal, save lives and fulfill its potential to create a loving home for a child who needs one. But in modern times that is not generally what’s driving a relinquishment. Infant adoptions usually occur due to a lack of resources experienced by the natural parent(s). Then, understand we have allowed commercialism and an unchecked profit motive to proliferate within an industry that is responsible for the placement of children into homes. How can that possibly be beneficial for those affected or our society at large? Most people are complexly unaware of these realities. What gets lost in the shuffle of that are the needs of the adopted person. Not just as a youngster, but for their entire lives.
When we make assumptions about people, we flatten out their stories and miss the depth and nuances that are part of each and every family. I can have a good adoption story, and there is always some sadness behind it. We need to live in places of truth, both fiercely and gently with each other, and how we build or defend our families.
What was the most challenging part of writing your book, and what was the most rewarding?
Definitely stories of abuse were the hardest to hear, and it was also I think essential for those folks to feel seen and heard. Listening and sitting with them through their pain was validating for both them and me. Receiving the trust from all of those interviewed was by far the most rewarding experience.
The other bonuses have come from adoptees, adoptive parents and birth parents who unknown to me have already shared how the book has helped them feel affirmed, taught them something, or caused a shift in their mindset. They are the reason – because we can do this better.
What is one thing that you hope readers take away from The Adoption Paradox?
If parents are more informed before they adopt, their kids do better and are less likely to struggle. If natural parents and treated with dignity and fairness by our statutes then their rights are protected, because they deserve nothing less than that. My hope is the general public will understand our laws need revising and modernizing beyond the way we currently practice adoption.
In most states, we still overwrite adoptees birth certificates as part of this legal process and seal them away – inaccessible without a court order. Why can’t we create a “certificate of parentage” that doesn’t overwrite a person’s truth of who they are, where they came from, and deny them access to their medical history? Everyone in this story deserves better than these archaic systems we currently have.
I am not anti-adoption, but I am interested in our culture evolving to embrace a better future for how we practice adoption and answer the real needs of families interacting with the child welfare system. The most important thing is that we talk honestly with each other and listen. I hope my book begins and stirs that conversation. Thank you!
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website
Adoption impacts countless families worldwide, yet the voices of those directly involved—especially adoptees, the central focus of the process—are rarely highlighted. In The Adoption Paradox, nearly one hundred individuals are interviewed, from domestic, international, and transracial adoptions, as well as foster care, along with adoptive and birth parents, therapists, experts, and allies. These narratives reveal both the love and the emotional costs borne by everyone affected, exposing adoption as a complex and challenging experience. Healing is possible with the right support, but addressing adoption’s hidden issues requires activism to confront unethical practices that lack oversight. These moving stories shed light on unaddressed pain and systemic flaws, calling for a more transparent and compassionate approach to adoption.
The Adoption Paradox: Putting Adoption in Perspective
Jean Kelly Widner’s The Adoption Paradox is both a sweeping history and a deeply personal exploration of adoption in America. It weaves together her own adoptee story, historical records, interviews with nearly a hundred people from across the “adoption constellation,” and an unflinching look at the industry’s ethical and emotional complexities. From the history of orphan trains and the Baby Scoop Era to the modern foster system and open adoptions, Widner covers the many ways adoption has shaped and sometimes wounded those involved. The book moves between heart-wrenching firsthand accounts, legal and cultural context, and thoughtful calls for reform, all while acknowledging the strange dualities at the heart of adoption: love and loss, gratitude and grief, hope and harm.
I was struck by the sheer variety of voices in this book, from adoptees, birth parents, and adoptive parents. Each is speaking in their own words, often with raw vulnerability. Widner doesn’t sanitize their stories, and she doesn’t steer the reader toward easy conclusions. I appreciated her willingness to admit there’s no single truth here, no one-size-fits-all narrative. There’s a tenderness in her approach, but also a certain steel; she makes it clear that the industry needs scrutiny, and that the myths we’ve been fed, especially the “all adoption is beautiful” trope, do real harm. At times, the weight of the stories struck me deeply, but that’s part of what made the reading experience so powerful.
I also found myself impressed by the way Widner balances the historical with the personal. She’ll pull you deep into archival laws or social movements, then drop you right into a living room or hospital hallway where someone’s telling the story of the day their child was taken, found, or lost forever. The shift between head and heart kept me engaged, even when the subject matter was painful.
I’d recommend The Adoption Paradox to anyone touched by adoption, whether you’re an adoptee, a birth parent, an adoptive parent, or simply someone who wants to better understand what adoption really means beyond the Hallmark version. It’s not light reading, but it’s the kind that stays with you. This is a book for people who can hold complexity, who aren’t afraid to see the cracks alongside the light. It’s a brave and necessary book.
Pages: 487 | ASIN : B0F6X136JN
Belonging
Un-Adoptically Me – My voice: Winning Beyond the Primal Trauma of Adoption is a raw memoir told through 88 “snapshots” tracing your journey navigating the complex and lifelong ripples of trauma surrounding adoption, love wrapped in loss, gratitude clouded by grief, and identity tangled in silence. Why was this an important book for you to write?
Writing Un-Adoptically Me wasn’t just important. It was inevitable.
It came from a place deeper than memory—where silence had calcified into shame, and my voice had gone missing inside the myth of being “lucky”.
It was terrifying, sacred, and necessary. Every page demanded I unearth the unspeakable, stand inside it, and speak anyway. This wasn’t about blame or bitterness—it was about belonging. About breaking open. About burning down the false self to finally meet the real one.
I didn’t write this to tell my story.
I wrote it to free it.
And in doing that—I freed me.
What were some ideas that were important for you to share in this book?
I wanted to say the things we’re not supposed to say.
That adoption can feel like a blessing and a betrayal. That “gratitude” can be a cage. That finding your voice often begins with breaking your own heart.
I wanted to make room for the full truth: the mess, the miracles, the paradoxes that don’t fit neatly on a Hallmark card.
Most of all, I wanted to hold space—for the reader who’s never felt seen. For the silence that lives inside so many of us. To say: your pain is valid, your story matters, and you’re not broken—you’re becoming.
This book is a love letter to the truth.
And an invitation to come home to yourself.
What was the most challenging part of writing your memoir, and what was the most rewarding?
The hardest part?
Telling the truth in a world that prefers the fairytale.
Writing this book was like opening a locked room in my soul and walking barefoot through the wreckage. Every sentence cost me something. Every memory asked, Are you ready to feel this now?
But the reward?
Everything.
The release. The reclamation. The raw, holy exhale of saying, Here I am. All of me.
I didn’t just write a book.
I shed a skin.
And what remained was something I never thought I’d find—peace, on my own terms.
What do you hope is one thing readers take away from your story?
That you’re not crazy. Or too much. Or alone.
That your feelings are real, your story is sacred, and your truth is worth telling—even if your voice shakes.
If one person closes my book and finally feels understood—not fixed, not explained, just seen—then I’ve done what I came here to do.
We heal in the presence of truth.
And if my truth helps you hear your own, then every shadow I faced was worth it.
Author Links: GoodReads | X (Twitter) | Facebook | Website | Amazon
In the first moments of life, a baby’s cry echoes through the universe. Her tiny hands grasp for the welcoming warmth of her mother’s touch, but what happens when that touch never comes?
Torn from the sacred womb – the only home she’s ever known – she’s helplessly thrust into a world of well-meaning strangers. Her heart branded with the haunting refrain that refuses to die: Mommy, I’m scared. Why did you leave me behind?
The unspoken contract of closed adoption shackles her with a cruel bargain: We will gift you a loving home, but you must relinquish your legacy, your birthright, and your true identity.
To survive her trauma, she silences her understanding of love, loss, and belonging. She builds her identity on a fractured foundation of fear, shame, and disconnection. She shrouds her life in secrecy, and seals her fate by compliance and surrender.
She spends a lifetime struggling to understand her place in the world. Don’t speak, don’t feel, don’t remember – just be grateful that you were chosen. But what happens when the façade cracks and the truth comes spilling out? Sometimes, the greatest truth is the one that’s been buried within.
Through 88 intimate snapshots, this moving memoir chronicles the author’s transformative journey, mystically fueled by inner wisdom and guidance. With raw honesty, she unshackles the chains of family betrayals and abusive relationships, and emerges into a life of authenticity, freedom, and empowerment. Her soul-baring story will resonate deeply with anyone who has ever felt trapped, silenced, or dismissed.
As you step into her world, she invites you to walk alongside her in finding your own voice and speaking your own truth. She offers a powerful reminder that you, too, can reclaim your life and live with purpose and passion.
Join her quest and get your copy now.
The Author’s Promise
Un-Apologetic. Un-Afraid. Un-Silenced.
Un-Adoptically Me — My story. My truth. My voice.
Elmarie Arnold’s Un-Adoptically Me is a raw and personal memoir told through 88 vivid “snapshots” that trace her journey as an adoptee navigating the complex and lifelong ripples of primal trauma. It dives into the bittersweet paradoxes of adoption, love wrapped in loss, gratitude clouded by grief, and identity tangled in silence. Through poetic, bold, and often gut-wrenching storytelling, Elmarie lays bare her emotional landscape, from her childhood innocence to adult reckoning, through motherhood, heartbreak, and healing. It’s not a straight line. It’s layered, messy, and brave.
There’s a section in “A Life Reborn” that just clung to my heart—Elmarie writes about holding her newborn son for the first time in the same hospital where she was born and later adopted. That moment wrecked me. She’s breastfeeding him, watching this new little life cling to her, and all she can think about is how she’ll never abandon him like she feels she was abandoned. I’ve had my arms around my own kids and thought those same fierce, protective things. Her writing is like that, so personal it feels like it echoes something unspoken in you. It’s poetic without trying too hard. Honest without being self-indulgent.
What stood out most to me, though, was her unfiltered rage and heartbreak when she finally receives that cold, clinical letter from the adoption agency. Just nine sentences about her birth mother. Not even a name. No warmth, no story. As a mother, that shattered me. The way she talks about the absence—not just of facts, but of acknowledgment—makes you see how trauma isn’t always what’s done to you but what’s never given. It made me want to hold my own daughter tighter. Elmarie doesn’t ask you to agree with her or pity her. She just wants you to witness her truth.
Her writing about motherhood is probably what resonated with me the most. “The Shadows We Keep” is a letter she wrote to her son after learning he had been molested for years under her roof while she was lost in trying to “find herself.” The pain in her words is unbearable. Grief, guilt, shame. She admits everything. Doesn’t hide behind excuses. I found that passage almost too painful to read, but also too important to skip. It’s a brutal, beautiful reckoning. And what’s wild is, despite all this trauma, Elmarie keeps showing up. For her kids, for herself. She breaks apart and pieces herself back together again, and then somehow, she writes it all down for the rest of us to read.
This book is for anyone who’s lived through loss or felt alone in a room full of people. It’s for mothers, daughters, and anyone who’s struggled to feel like they belonged. If you’ve ever tried to heal something that didn’t leave visible scars, you’ll see yourself in these pages. I cried, I got angry, and I paused more than once to just breathe. And in the end, I closed the book and felt like I’d made a friend.
Pages: 386 | ASIN : B0DV11GJ2N
