Two years in…
What a laborious process to enter into belonging, a sort of a laboring to enter rest. Being home and being at home and comfortable are two very different things. The truth is, you can be chosen and sealed by adoption and still live like an orphan, taking things into your own hands, living unwanted and projecting that onto every relationship. The truth and one’s experience don’t always necessarily line up.
In my naivety, I thought the legality of the adoption would solve most issues. I can understand the insecurity and inability to trust when you haven’t been granted the promise of forever, but I wasn’t prepared for how slow the work of love can be. Sure, there were immediate changes and we indeed celebrated them, but I could not have known the depths of gardening that would need to be done. The weeds and thorns don’t disappear into thin air with the blooming of the flowers.
This whole thing has been so much more than just giving a child, or five, a home. I’ve seen Eternal Life. I’ve learned more about myself in the last few years than I knew in a lifetime. I’ve learned more about God. I’ve come to know the gospel and I’ve stood at the shores of the Father’s vast, unconditional love. Bible study and research could never teach my heart the ways of adoption, I could only come to this knowledge with the companionship of the Holy Spirit, through the pain and victories on this road of redemption.
I have come to understand the saving work of Jesus through the rescuing of a few, of which I am one. I’ve come to see how ridiculous the notion that we, orphans, somehow had a part to play in our being brought home. The responsible party in the process of adoption is always the parent, never the child. They could not choose me if I had not already chosen them. I still want them to choose me, and some days they do, and oh how sweet those days are.
Our story doesn’t end in adoption, it’s where it begins. The truth is they are at home, but not always comfortable. There are days when chaos seems more comforting than peace, when abandonment is the lens through which they see, and old memories sometimes cloud the present.
Likewise, our adoption in Christ. We began in the heart of God before time was. We were chosen in Him before the world began. Our story begins in Him. In Jesus we were all gathered and made one new family. Sometimes we still live fatherless, but we are not. We may still be wearing our God-forsaken-lenses, but we are not. He has come for us, as He promised, and He has brought us Home to the Father. Whether we feel it or not, it’s what is true about us.
We are still in the process of our adoption, even though it took place two years ago. The truth is, my kids are wanted, chosen, loved, and secure, whether they feel it or not. I still choose them, I still promise forever, and I’m still committed to their wholeness. As love continues to pave the way of redemption, we will continue to walk it; to bring them into the feeling-it, because what good is it if it can’t be felt? Jesus didn’t leave a fragment in the gathering, and we will collect the spoils.
Here’s to the journey of forever, the coming to see what’s already true, and the becoming of who we already are. Here’s to living out our adoption.