As I burrowed into Squishy Pillow Thursday night, I grew teary-eyed thinking of the day. Asher wasn’t any more my son than he was when we woke up, but there was a new layer of peace and joy after we made it official in court.
It was a lot like when I married Joseph. The morning of our wedding, I was crazy in love with him. My eyes danced when I looked at him, and my stomach was still filled with butterflies. After our wedding? I felt the same way! Only, we had entered into a covenant relationship with one another. Somehow, that made our love deeper, filled with confidence and peace. And so much joy!
Just like I entered into a covenant relationship with Joseph on our wedding day, we entered into a covenant relationship with our son on Thursday. Before a judge and over a dozen of our friends and family, we promised to love, care, and provide for our boy just as though I had given birth to him. We promised to kiss boo-boos, give giant bear hugs, accept weeds as flowers, stay up all night, chase away closet monsters, plan birthday parties, play Hide-and-Seek, sing silly songs, help with science fair projects, rent a tuxedo for the school prom, and cheer him on as he accepts his diploma, all as though he had our DNA. We promised to be his parents, his mama and daddy. Forever. An unconditional covenant.
And it was beautiful!
Sure, it was a little stuffy and formal, and the hearing only lasted a few minutes, but those were some of the most beautiful minutes of my life.
And I could hear God whispering, “I made those promises to you.”
God sent His Boy, His cried-when-He-was-hungry, crawled-before-He-walked, skinned-His-knees, loved-His-mama, Son of God Boy, to take my place so I could be adopted by my Father. So I could be a joint heir with Christ. So I could be a daughter loved unconditionally by her Daddy.
And when we receive Asher’s new birth certificate, the one with our names on it, the one that will declare on a piece of paper that he is our son, just as though I had literally given birth to him in a hospital in Charleston, I’ll hear His voice whisper again, “You’re My child, and you bear My name.”
No one has helped me see the Gospel with as much clarity as my own son. No one has taught me more about the love of my Father than my son. No one has made me want to be more like Christ than my son.
Adoption has changed my life twice – once by my Savior and once by my son. I’m eternally grateful for both.
You've been on my mind a lot. Some days, I forget you're gone. I'll be driving down the road, think...