Adopted

I found myself sitting with baby K earlier this week making an “About Me” poster for her Preschool class.  We put her birth date and birth location.  She is the only one of my children who wasn’t born where we all live.  It seemed weird writing it, it felt like writing that made her different from the rest of my kids.  I know, I know, she is adopted.  She is a different race.  So obviously she LOOKS different from the other kids, but I feel like all of them look different from each other.  Sure, you could look at our biological kids and see some of mine and the hubs physical features in them.

I never have felt like they were any more destined to be in our family than baby K though, just because she was once adopted.  There has never been a doubt in my mind that she was destined, before hand to be exactly where she is.  Just like my bio kids.

It’s funny how much we put on “physical traits” to mean that a child belongs to a family.  Some biological families don’t even resemble each other, but when I write her birth location and when I am out and about with my family, I know that people view her as the one that “was lucky to end up in our family”.

Here’s a little bit about the luck that baby had of getting into this family.  She was brought into this first world by a momma who knew she couldn’t provide for her.  She was hand picked, by her first momma to join this family.  She was wheeled directly into a separate room after birth, while being comforted by a voice she didn’t recognize.  She lived in hotel rooms (with her family) for 2 weeks before coming home.  She has dealt with horrible asthma, that we can’t get answers to, since she was a newborn.

Truthfully, while I’m telling you her story, I could do it for any of my kids.  I could tell you how my first child screamed so much when he was a baby that I took all my maternity clothes to Goodwill when he was 3 months old.  I could tell you that I struggle daily with him believing he has to share this house with his sisters.  I could recount the story of #2’s birth and how she or I could have not come out of the operating room when she was born.  How I struggle now for her to not take everything so personally.  My youngest may physically resemble our family a bit more than baby K, but he was left at a hospital a couple of hours old.  He was welcomed into his home after a brief stint in 2 different hospitals.

I say all that to say this, we all have somewhere that our story began.  Biological children are not a formula to ensure the ease of their life or your family unit.  I find this most encouraging because I’m adopted too.  I came from a background of someone who loved myself more than most all others,  someone who lived in several homes growing up, someone who hasn’t always tried to have good relationships with those in my family.  I was someone who did several things I was ashamed of as I grew older.

Then I was adopted.  I was adopted into a family where “in Jesus Christ, you are all son’s of God, through faith.” (Galatians 3:26)  I was welcomed into a family, not based on my race, gender, economic status, or any other means.  I was welcomed because Jesus sought me, before the beginning of time, to be an heir with Him.

My story is different from yours.  My story is different from my husband’s, my childrens’, my friends’, but that’s only part of my story.  That’s only where it began.  Now we are brother’s and sister’s with each other, not because I was lucky or because I met a criteria.  Simply because I was chosen.  My brothers and sisters don’t all look like me either.

All of my children were handpicked to be in this earthly family.  It doesn’t matter that one of my children was born in a different state.  It doesn’t even matter that two of the four are biological.  They are brothers and sisters.  While their beginning was different from the others; they all ended up in this family.  Not on accident.  Not because any were lucky.

Because God chose us to steward each of these lives and raise them up to send them out.  Not for my husband nor myself- but for the One whose family they will ultimately end up in.  That family is for eternity.  I hope and pray to some day call them my brothers or sisters in Christ, because ultimately that’s where our family is headed.  This too, is just our beginning.

 

1 thought on “Adopted”

  1. Love this. You are so right. Our stories are unique. We all start somewhere. Adoption is a particularly special subject to me. My husband was put in foster care as a toddler and later adopted by a Christian family. He subsequently adopted my older three kids from my first marriage. In both cases, there had been a feeling of abandonment that was reconciled when another stepped in. It’s a beautiful reflection of what Christ does for us. Thanks for sharing this. ☺️

    Like

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