We’re on our way to Charleston. When this is my view, my tendency is to lose myself in thought. That’s a rabbit hole much deeper than the one that transported Alice to Wonderland.
Today, I found myself thinking about when my cousin’s first child was born. Several of us traveled a few hundred miles to celebrate her birth. We flooded the hospital room and oohed and ahhed over the perfectly squishy little girl with a head full of hair.
Those thoughts led to thoughts about our future. If God chooses to bless us with biological children, who would come to the hospital to celebrate with us? Would anyone drive hundreds of miles to ooh and ahh over our little one?
What about our future adopted children? How different will those first days be? I know we’ll be over the moon excited about the additions to our family. How will they be received by everyone else? I hope they’re embraced with as much warmth and excitement as any biological children might be. I want that for them (and for us).
Then I started thinking about the children we hope to adopt. Have they been born already? If so, is it possible we’ve crossed paths before? Is there a woman out there who just took a pregnancy test and is terrified to have a child – but brave enough to carry that child for nine months and then trust us to give her baby a home? Were our children ushered into this world with joy, only to suffer the consequences of their parents’ bad choices? Are our children in foster care, longing for a forever family who is willing to adopt a large sibling group? Are our children thinking about us while I’m thinking about them? Will our children like this CD as much as their daddy does? If so, I can get used to it. ;0)
All those thoughts led to prayers. Prayers for our children, whether they’re out there now or not. Prayers for their biological parents, because chances are our children won’t come out of ideal circumstances. Prayers for us, because fostering and adopting stir up tons of questions and emotions.
As I was thinking about birth and adoption, I thought about my own birth and adoption. There is a cute picture of my aunt and two of my mom’s friends peering through a window in anticipation of the doctor coming out to announce my arrival. There are pictures of my parents holding my not-so-cute screaming and Jondice self, grinning from ear to ear.
I don’t think there are any pictures of my adoption, not even of my baptism. My friend Kara D. was close by for my adoption. I don’t remember who else was there. My mom, stepdad, and grandmother were there for my baptism. I don’t remember who else came.
I wish there had been a big celebration, because those were big moments. The moment God adopted me into His family was the most important moment of my life. That moment impacted the rest of my life like no other moment.
When I think about adopting our children, I can’t help but think of God adopting me. It’s the reason I want to adopt.