third son of mine. This year you turn 12. A decade plus two for you. It does not seem possible that the little guy who entered our lives in 2000 could possibly be the young man who enters the kitchen each morning. You had boundless energy then, and you still do today.
You came into our lives like a whirling wind of change. For almost three years, your dad and I had tried unsuccessfully to build our family through adoption. Pregnancy was not an option for us at that time because of tragedy that had gone before (James). All of our efforts at adoption thus far had been tinged with various levels of sadness as well, and we had become resigned to the idea that God would bring no more children to our family. It would be me, Dad and Chess.
Honestly, I was hurt and resentful about this. The picture God was painting for my family did not match with mine.
I called an adoption friend of ours that week and poured out my heart to her. I was sitting in the green striped lawn chair, watching Chess ride his big wheel. We cried on the phone together, and she reminded me to remember how God had more than once answered the hopes of our hearts in miraculous ways.
She encouraged me to call an agency in Florida. I was more than reluctant, knowing that our last several ventures had all ready dipped into savings. Even the “minimal” application fee she quoted seemed like the price of an island. I told her I would think about it and we hung up.
The next day I found myself dialing the number. It was a Monday morning. Maybe I thought it was a fresh start type of morning. But after talking on the phone with the very nice lady, I found myself even more discouraged at all the labor of adoption. I ended the conversation with her only agreeing to consider their application, without a promise to mail it back.
Life progressed all week as usual. Friday morning while sweeping up Chess’ breakfast from the kitchen floor, the phone rang. Very nice adoption lady was on the phone. My first thought was that this was the follow up pressure call to get on their waiting list. I was ready with a quick no, but she kept talking about you, your situation, your need for a family and then she ended with, “So, would you be interested in a 26 month old boy?”
Huh? 26 months, 26 months, all ability to do a little bit of math flew right out of my head as I tried to picture that in years and development and did she say, “26 months!” Finally, I could only muster a response that I had to call Husband and would call her back.
While dialing your Dad, I was sure he would dismiss the idea as impossible and that would be that. I could finish cleaning the floor. Catching him at work, he listened to my rambling story and said, “I think we are interested. Find out what they need from us.”
Couldn’t anyone understand that I was trying to maintain a spirit of hurt and resentment here? Hope and promise were treasures reserved for other people. I was sure of that. Hurt and resentment were a great part of your life as well. Hope and promise were not truths you trusted in either. You and I were about to walk a path of restoration, and neither one of us had any idea how hard, or how rewarding it would become.
To be continued…
the other day and have always wanted to ask:
If God did not mean eternal life when He said it in His word, would He not have described it instead as “almost eternal life” or “not quite but close to eternal life”?
If He meant eternal life, and He said “I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand,” (John 10:28), and that eternal life was based upon His faithfulness, never the person’s, then why do some insist on believing that one can lose eternal life?
How do you lose that which is eternal? Because if you received something eternal, that which cannot end, at what point can you lose the not able to end, eternal part? How can that which cannot end, end?
I suggest that it is because they choose not to read the whole counsel of God’s word in its context or that they choose to trust in their own power and possibility of tearing themselves out of God’s hand, though He says they cannot, or that they choose to trust in their own sustaining perseverance or lack thereof, or some combination of these.
Froth away or rest in Him. There’s a choice for you.
are myths plus substance. Superpowers are the myths of bulletproof capes, indestructible tights and always knowing who the bad guy is. Parenting is the substance of telling them to clean up their capes, not to destroy anything and trying to figure out who that bad guy “Not Me” really is.
I do not think of my parenting as a superpower. It is plain hard work wrought with failures and mistakes but covered by God’s grace. I started as early as I knew to start, and since then have stumbled, stuttered and started over each time it was necessary. The outcomes some days are dismal and other days there is enough glimmer of hope to keep me going for the next day.
As soon as I figure out one stage of parenting, they stop teething and start trying my patience with weird noises. They stop forgetting to flush but start leaving all the lights on. They stop complaining about eating asparagus and start complaining about writing essays. While on a visit to Colorado years ago, we were told that if we didn’t like the weather to give it a day and it would change. I think that’s an adage for parenting.
So when, like today, I meet someone who is astonished at my parenting, I am astonished. My parenting is a work in progress. With problems that require daily humility and wisdom. Parenting is not my superpower. It is a life’s substance of work.
In this sweet mom’s life, she has children that she says do not listen to her. I do not know her children, and I barely know her. I do know she is an accomplished professional with more degrees than me, loves her children and is stymied at why they do not listen to her instructions. She asked me how I get my children to listen to me.
I told her that I have always required them to listen to me, insisting on their training from earliest days. I told her it was hard work but worth the effort. And there are certainly days where I do not consider myself “heard” either.
She said it must just be a very special talent that some people have.
Perfect pitched voice–a talent. Gymnastic ability–a talent. Artistic accuracy–a talent. Parenting is not a talent.
That is what I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her that it is not too late for her to train her children, that it is not too late to put in the work of requiring them to listen. That it is not too late to submit to God the Father, perfect Parent to imperfect children, for His help and guidance.
But I missed it. The gathering was purely social. The conversation flitted around, and I did not fully take the opportunity that was given to me. We parted ways thinking very differently about the substance of parenting.
Parenting is not a superpower. Maybe I should ask for my superpower to be that I would never miss the opportunities. That would be worth having.
regarding election is that “If God elects only some to salvation, then why bother with evangelism?”
I uncovered a reason last week while studying John 13. In this chapter, Jesus is at a supper with His twelve disciples. He knows that very soon Judas will leave to betray Him. He knows that His death on the Cross is imminent.
Lovingly He shows His own the full extent of His love, in one manner by washing His disciples’ feet. Including Judas’ feet. The feet of His betrayer.
Why do that for the one destined to betray Him? Because the work shows the magnificence of His grace to even those who utterly reject Him. Washing the feet symbolized His work of cleansing us of the defilement of sin. He was evangelizing Judas by showing He alone could cleanse Judas of his sin.
Not only that, but the verse that struck me the most was verse 18a:
I am not referring to all of you; I know those I have chosen.
Jesus is saying that He knows those He has elected. And even so, He goes on in verses 20, 21, and 26 to by words and actions give an opportunity to Judas to repent. Every warning, every offer was a showing of His grace.
We are commanded to share the gospel of Jesus Christ, His salvation from sin, to all. For no one but Jesus knows His elect. And it is His very example to display His grace, even to those who do reject Him.
For then He and He alone is glorified in the offer of mercy, the work of justice.
