Social Justice is a Christian’s worry

“Let us examine together the Word of God, and then you will know what has moved me to sacrifice property and friendship, and home and reputation.  With Christian patience and Christian love, give me your attention to the end of this letter, whilst I endeavor to show you that the Holy God disapproves American slavery.” –William Brisbane, Abolitionist

As I learn more about history, it always surprises me how much history repeats itself.  As a Christian, who has adopted and fostered and has a multi racial family, it has surprised me how many people (some Christian) have thought I’m speaking up for things that aren’t actually a Christian’s concern.

While slavery isn’t the known social injustice in today’s time period, there are many other prevalent social injustices still evident.  You may be someone who chooses to put your head in the sand and say “that’s just the way it is”.  That doesn’t stop it from existing.  People made excuses for slavery, but that didn’t make it right.  If you are a Christian, especially, you have a duty to speak up for the marginalized and the down trodden.

For one, we have to be careful to try to not break our lives into “categories”.  It’s a dangerous thing to say “God belongs in this part of my life but not that part of my life”.  God is ruler of the world and that does not exclude the entirety of your life.  Every single part of our life is meant to bring honor and glory to God, no area being excluded.

We also can see in the Bible that Jesus was very much involved in breaking social norms while he walked the earth.  We see him giving respect to women (which wasn’t done often in those times).  They were seen as people that didn’t really have a voice and should just do what they were told to do.  He sat with “publicans, harlots, and sinners”.  People complained when Jesus went to Zacchaeus’s house because they didn’t think he was worthy of entertaining the presence of Jesus.

We should be a voice for all injustices in the world (as they accord with the Bible).  We need to not be so concerned with popularity, our reputation, or our own things when it comes to giving a voice to what is right.  We need to believe that we are all part of one family and act as such.

 

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.