In spite of the fact that I’ve had a lot more years to mature, there are many ways my daughters are way more Jesus-y than me.
I was uncomfortably aware of this again over the holidays when we were sitting around the dinner table and Maggie was sharing how she and her husband were talking about the possibility of adoption down the road because they feel it might be selfish of them to bring another child into the world when there are so many who need homes and parents to love them. They know this isn’t for everyone, but were discussing it.
My immediate response was to recount the tremendous heartache and family upheaval of ALL OF THE PEOPLE I know with adopted kids. Dealing with violence, mental illness, rejection, personality disorder, resulting divorce…
In that moment of conversation all my Mama bear protection and control impulses went into over-drive.
As I reflected on this later when I went to bed, it struck me how selfish I am, and how comfort is my true god. That I couldn’t fathom disrupting my “Wonderful Life” to consider adoption as a way to live out God’s love for orphans is a sad reflection on my lack of spiritual maturity. I was disappointed in my small heart.
Now, I don’t think this is an easy or uncomplicated decision. It has far-reaching implications and consequences not only for parents, but for extended family as well.
But this post isn’t about adoption. It’s about our willingness to enter into pain and inconvenience. Continue reading
