Accepted in the Beloved

Last Sunday's lesson for the intermediate girls' class I teach was titled "Accepted in the Beloved." For reasons I won't go into here, I had been thinking a great deal about adoption in the previous week and had discussed it with others on several occasions. So it was a real pleasure to get down to studying for my class on Saturday and contemplate again from Scripture the marvel of our adoption into the family of God.

Adoption, in the natural sense, is close to my heart--not because I am an adoptive parent, but because I have adopted siblings, and friends who have adopted or been adopted. I have often felt conflicted about adoption though, knowing it was absolutely a good thing, but grieving at the heartache that sometimes involves adopted children.

In the situations I'm familiar with, where every child was truly loved and wanted, I think the heartache centers on one or more of several issues.

Sometimes the child simply cannot process the realities of being separated from their birth parents without feeling overwhelming rejection. I don't think this is an easy thing to fix. The fallenness in which our world churns along involves a lot of things that are not as they ought to be, and parents not always being able or willing to care well for their own offspring is one of the ways brokenness shows up. Even if they were perfect, adoptive parents could not fix this--but they can and usually do offer unconditional love and acceptance.

Sometimes brain damage has occurred in a child because of his or her mother having abused some substance while her child was in utero. In other situations, malnutrition has taken its toll on a child. In cases like this, everything is complicated--relationships, personal choices, learning of all kinds, self-discipline, even physical health.

The third issue is not always a source of heartache. Sometimes it's a great delight. But it's usually a mystery. "Where did that come from?" is how I've heard parents express it--utter puzzlement at something they've just seen in their adopted child. It's true, of course, that every child is different from their birth parents and their birth siblings, but, along with the differentness, many characteristics of one's own offspring seem thoroughly familiar. This is less so when one's children arrive by some means that does not involve a direct transfer of chromosomes. Understanding each other simply takes extra effort, and sometimes seems like a Herculean task. While the adults I've known have always wanted to affirm their adopted children, doing so requires a more conscious effort than when it's as simple as seeing our child enjoy the same things we enjoy.

On the other hand, parents can delight at seeing their child accomplish effortlessly something that they have always found difficult. In our family, one of my adopted brothers had a lovely singing voice as a child and adolescent. He could draw, and none of my birth siblings were much good at that. Another adopted brother was mechanically inclined, and knew how to fix things and see how they should fit together. That was not a strength of any of my parents' birth children.

I've heard of people who wanted to adopt rather than build a family through having children born to them, perhaps because of the risk of passing on some genetic abnormality. Others wanted both birth and adopted children. Still others chose to remain childless when having children by birth was impossible, because adoption "often doesn't work out well." And some people prefer childlessness, while others wanted children, but have acquiesced to childlessness.

Just today I heard a heartwarming story from my cousin, who lives in a country where children are apparently highly valued. Because my cousin (I'll call him Loren.) and his wife ("Jane") are childless, one of their Christian friends--parents who dearly loved their children, nevertheless offered one of their own for "Loren" and his wife to adopt, because they felt so sorry about their childless condition. When Loren and Jane conveyed their heartfelt thanks at this kind gesture, and then told their friends that they felt though that the birth parents themselves would be the best parents for this child, everyone was happy. Still, Loren and Jane feel a special bond with this child who was almost their own. Every time they see him, they remember his parents' kindness and the gift they were able to give back to those parents by letting him stay in their home--like Abraham who was willing to offer Isaac, and then God gave him back to Abraham.

It's not my business to figure out who should or should not have children either by birth or adoption, but this week I've settled a few things in my own mind about adoption.

I've come to understand that whether or not adoption should be undertaken should never be determined solely, or even mainly, on the basis of whether or not this is likely to work out well. That is simply impossible to know ahead of time, for birth or adopted children. Adoption, as all other steps taken in faith, must be undertaken as an act of obedience to God's prompting. It's not so the parents can be fulfilled. It's not to prove how accepting a family can be. It's not to make something wonderful out of a child that would otherwise be an unlikely candidate for recognition. It's not to round out the shape of a lopsided family.

Adoption can accomplish all those things perhaps, but even if not one of the above things happens, if adoption was undertaken in an act of obedience to God, it was the right thing to do. God loves every needy child far more than any of us ever will, and every needy child needs someone to show them God's love. It doesn't follow, though, that everyone ought to adopt a needy child. Only those whom God prompts.

In the grief-laden adoption situations I know about, I am comforted by several things: 1) The story is not complete. As long as life remains, there is hope for better days. I have lived long enough to see some of these situations resolved, even though it took decades to find resolution. 2) God is a righteous judge. The One who made us all knows exactly what we are responsible for, and what is beyond the limits of our own choices. He judges according to His Own knowledge and righteousness--not our ideas of how things ought to work. 3) Intercessory prayer moves the hand of God on behalf of a needy child, even when he is beyond the reach of his family.

I am blessed beyond words when I reflect on how good it is to know some of the adopted grownups that are my brothers and sisters in Christ. If not for their godly adoptive parents and their own right choices, the kingdom of God would be smaller and our church would be poorer. My path and theirs would not likely have crossed, and I would understand less of what God did for me in inviting me to be His child while I was utterly unable to improve my own condition. He did that because He loved me--something I understand better because of the adoptive parents I've known.