Wednesday, May 9, 2012

BUT YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GETTING . . .

One of the comments we have heard enough times to warrant a blog is when we tell people we’re adopting, they respond, “Really?  But you don’t know what you’re getting?”  The implication being that we don’t know what the child we’ll be adopting is going to be like.  Perhaps those asking have merely seen that dreadful film The Orphan and are concerned that we, like the parents in that movie, will end up adopting a murderous female with hypopituitarism (a condition that stunts growth) who is merely posing as a little girl just like Esther did in the film (This is not, I repeat not an endorsement for that schlock). 

More than likely, these well-meaning people are merely asking in their own way: Will the child have emotional or psychological problems?  They might also be concerned because we might not know the child’s family history. 

Quite a few are taken aback by the fact that this little girl won’t speak any English (We’re told it takes 3 months for them to speak English and 6 months for them to speak and understand English fluently).  Although like so many things these days, there’s an App for that. 

All of these things may be true, but the fact of the matter is that even when we had our biological child, we still didn’t know exactly what we were getting.  Actually every morning I wake up and wonder what Benjamin has in store for us today.  Children can often be like The Three Faces of Eve and you just hope that you get the good personality that day.  There are days when I don’t know if he’ll be well-behaved or attempt to argue with every directive we give him as if it were a court and he was a lawyer trying to debate and change the decision of my wife and I.

I never would’ve expected to get a son who was interested in science and computers and wanted to start his own business (He’s 12).  He even got upset with us when we punished him one day and he stormed off with, “Why can’t you treat me like a business man?” 

Yet no matter what I go through that day with him, by the time he’s asleep (They are always at their best and most lovable then), I creep into his room to watch him sleeping and to kiss him on his forehead.  I love him because he’s my son.  One of my favorite authors, Madeleine L’Engle, wrote the following in her amazing book Walking On Water: Reflections of Faith and Art:

“When I was a child my parents loved me not because I was good but because I was Madeleine, their child.  I loved them, and I wanted to please them, but their love of me did not have to be earned.

Neither does the love of God.  We are loved because we are His children, because we are.”


God loves me because I am His.  Of course, God didn’t exactly get a great deal when He adopted me into His family.  Romans 8: 14 – 16 tells us: For as many are led by the Spirit of God, these are the sons of God.  For you did not receive the spirit of bondage, but you received the spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father’.”  I can only imagine the angels’ reaction to this news.  “Really?  You adopted him?  Have You taken a good look at him?  I mean, that one’s really damaged goods.”  I’m sure there are those who look at who God’s chosen and wonder:  WHY?   They would quickly point out someone else that would make more sense: someone who’s wiser, richer, more powerful, more successful, more athletic, better looking, and a whole list of things the world choose, but God doesn’t choose as the world does – or He never would’ve used little David to slay Goliath or sent His Son into the world in the way that He did.  Many view God’s wisdom as foolish.  Sometimes, when I think about Him adopting me, I admit that I wonder about God’s taste.  

When we bring our daughter home, we will love her in the same way that we love our son: because she is ours. 

No comments:

Post a Comment