It’s been quite a while since I last updated my blog. A lot has happened in a short time. My wife and I moved from Nashville, Tennessee to Midland, Texas. We began serving at Crestview Baptist Church. We are living in a house with more than one room and finally have a car with heat and air conditioning. (Praise the Lord!) As well as beginning the conversation about us starting a family soon. Kellye and I have always said we wanted to adopt children one day and recently the Lord has put in on our hearts to think about fostering as well. So in the pursuance of this call on our hearts we have started reading a book call Adopted for Life by Russell Moore. Today though a few lines of him speaking on his experience with adopting his two sons brought me to tears. I had to share this with you all. If you have a few moments, read the excerpt from below and keep in mind our Heavenly adoption into the family of God and what that means.
“When Maria and I at long last received the call that the legal process was over, and we returned to Russia to pick up our new sons, we found that their transition from orphanage to family was more difficult than we had supposed. We dressed the boys in outfits our parents had bought for them. We nodded our thanks to the orphanage personnel and walked out into the sunlight, to the terror of the two boys. They’d never seen the sun, and they’d never felt the wind. They had never heard the sound of a car door slamming or felt like they were being carried along a road at 100 miles an hour. I noticed that they were shaking and reaching back to the orphanage in the distance. Suddenly it wasn’t a stranger asking, “Are they brothers?” They seemed to be asking it, nonverbally but emphatically, about themselves. I whispered to Sergei, now Timothy, “That place is a pit! If only you knew what’s waiting for you—a home with a mommy and a daddy who love you, grandparents and great-grandparents and cousins and playmates and McDonald’s Happy Meals!” But all they knew was the orphanage. It was squalid, but they had no other reference point. It was home. We knew the boys had acclimated to our home, that they trusted us, when they stopped hiding food in their high chairs. They knew there would be another meal coming, and they wouldn’t have to fight for the scraps. This was the new normal. They are now thoroughly Americanized, perhaps too much so, able to recognize the sound of a microwave ding from forty yards away. I still remember, though, those little hands reaching for the orphanage. And I see myself there.”
Moore, Russell D. (2009-04-08). Adopted for Life (Foreword by C. J. Mahaney): The Priority of Adoption for Christian Families and Churches (Kindle Locations 628-636). Crossway. Kindle Edition.
As I was reading this the part when the father looks at his son, who is straining back for his old ,horrible, unloved life, says “That place is a pit!” I began to cry. Thinking about how I so often strain for my past sin, my life before Christ. While I know it was not safe, or good, or even slightly beneficial, that was the only life I knew. For some reason it We all do this sometimes. Maybe you are doing that now. Afraid to give your life completely to where Christ is leading us. Afraid of the unknown because at least if you know about the painful life you live in, you know what to expect.
In the middle of this description of his sons fear and desire to go back to a unloving orphanage, there is a beautiful thing the father says. He says something souding eerily divine! “That place is a pit! If only you knew what’s waiting for you—a home with a mommy and a daddy who love you…” You see what happened. The father is doing all he can to let his children know that he has wonderful things waiting for them. All they have to do is come with him. But for some reason they are trying to run away from his love. Not because they don’t want it, but because they don’t know a thing about what being loved really means. They are afraid of it. They feared being adopted.
So often I still fear this adoption I am in. I sometimes catch myself visiting my old life. Playing with thoughts of the past. I have tried to ask myself why many times. The truth is I am still afraid, but I don’t want to be afraid of the love of the Father. Thats really all I have ever needed. I want His love above all. The love of Christ who died on the cross for my sin. What greater love is there than the God of all creation be willing to die for you. There is nothing better.
The best part of that excerpt is when the two boys finally trust their new family. “We knew the boys had acclimated to our home, that they trusted us, when they stopped hiding food in their high chairs. They knew there would be another meal coming, and they wouldn’t have to fight for the scraps. his was the new normal. They are now thoroughly Americanized, perhaps too much so, able to recognize the sound of a microwave ding from forty yards away. I still remember, though, those little hands reaching for the orphanage. And I see myself there.”
So here I am today. Loved by the father. Putting more trust into where he is taking me. Excitedly awaiting for what he has in store for me. To show me his love. Are you waiting for the blessings of your father or still reaching for the pain of the past? Don’t you know that place is a pit? If only you knew what he has waiting for you! If only you knew!