Adopting the Unadoptable

You know that feeling you get when you just know God is asking you to do something kinda difficult, and you don't know how or when you'll be able to do it, but the peace you need for the process finally rests in your heart after years of uncertainty?  We had that feeling this past Saturday, when we attended a conference called "Together for Adoption."

We didn't mean to go.  I mean, E and I have given a little thought to adoption, and always figured that the time would come someday in which we'd need to give it serious consideration, given both the theological and practical reasons for pursuing it.  But with no plans or finances or second bedroom to make it happen now, we weren't planning to go to this particular event.  Then, three weeks ago, we were asked if Thornfield would be willing to play some background music during the lunch break.  Jenna had already been planning to go, and since one of Thornfield's missions is to support mercy ministries, we agreed to play for free, and with it came complimentary tickets to the whole shindig.  We were officially going.  And what began as a gig ended as a life-altering calling.

Orphans by Thomas Kennington

It's impossible to convey all that transpired in those seven hours, but suffice it to say: God is moving hearts and souls and hands and feet toward helping the helpless and loving the unloved, sometimes unlovable.  He always has been, of course, but only in the last few years have I begun to open my own eyes to the needs of others and allowed myself to understand that God wants to use my heart, my soul, my hands and my feet to bring about His will "on the earth as it is in heaven."  Sure, I've known for ten years now that He was calling me into Ministry Proper.  It's only just now that I'm seeing the vast, organic, dirty, crazy, lovely world that is Ministry Improper, and seeing that I have a much larger role to play in that than in the other.  

Anyway, What about all this Adoption Business?, you may be wondering.  Me too.  The first speaker at the conference was Vermon Pierre, who spoke of "The God Who Adopts" from Ephesians 1.  Here's part of the Scripture he read:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ, just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved... In Him also we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to His purpose who works all things after the counsel of His will, to the end that we who were the first to hope in Christ would be to the praise of His glory. In Him, you also, after listening to the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation—having also believed, you were sealed in Him with the Holy Spirit of promise, who is given as a pledge of our inheritance, with a view to the redemption of God’s own possession, to the praise of His glory.

To be honest, these verses, though absolutely overflowing with the superfluously wonderful merits of God's grace, always make me a little nervous when they're about to be preached on.  It was while at Moody -- where Calvinism is the presumed doctrine of the educated believer -- that I became suspicious of the word, predestined.  To my utmost relief, Pierre didn't once focus on predestination as a calling of "the elect," but explained the word's use as it shows God's very deliberate and intentional purpose from the very beginning of creation to adopt His people.  Before the foundation of the world, it says, He chose us, to adopt us, to lavish upon us an inheritance not merely of riches but of His very presence as the Holy Spirit within us.  

What really struck me about Pierre's message, what's so remarkable about all of this, is that before God adopted us, we were unadoptable.  We were unwanted, unruly, unworthy to be children of God.  Pierre explained that when people decide to adopt, they're given, basically, a list of things to choose from in a child.  First, they get to decide definite traits, like whether they want a boy or girl, how old a child they'd like, etc.  After that form comes another with checkboxes beside other, less tangible, likely less desirable traits.  Traits such as "Likes to start fires," "Has extreme ADHD," "Has emotional baggage," "Is violent," "Has a history of scraping walls with knives," etc.  This page is often skipped entirely, as these children are often considered "unadoptable."  Now, it may be difficult for us to see ourselves as unadoptable when we compare ourselves to these children.  But if we put ourselves in their shoes, take on their experiences, memories, etc., we may find ourselves closer to their states than we're comfortable with.  And if we believe the gospel is true -- that Jesus died for us -- then we must also believe that we were each personally involved in His death, that we victimized and brutalized and killed God's Son.  

And yet, He still wants us in the family.  

And yet, He planned to use our own violence to provide salvation for us.

What a gospel!  What hope!  What a good, unbelievably good God!

But notice why He did this, this amazing adoption of the unadoptable, according to Ephesians 1: "that we would be holy and blameless before Him."  In other words, that we would be set apart, that we would be conformed to His own image by and through His Son.  That we would become more like our Heavenly Dad, extending gracious love like He does, adopting the unadoptable like He does.  

And that's why my own thoughts concerning adoption have changed from, "This is something we should really think about, Lord willing," to "This is something we should actually do, and He is."  I won't be anyone else's Holy Spirit, of course.  He leads us each according to His own will for each.  But I've become convinced, not only through this amazing Scriptural concept but also through the callings all Christians are given in James 1, in Zechariah 7, in Proverbs 31, in Isaiah 1, and in countless other verses and chapters and books in God's word, that it is every believer's direct calling to care for the helpless, and in many cases the orphan specifically.  What that looks like for each family will be different.  What that looks like for our family -- I'm nervous but excited and timid but eager to say -- will hopefully someday be a house overflowing with love for each other, adopted and non-adopted children alike.  Because, actually, we're all adopted.

A father of the fatherless ... is God in His holy habitation.

{Psalm 68:5}

Oh Baby

OK, be thou warned.  This is not a typical City Songbird post.  

Frankly, the hormones are taking over the head today, and I'm a bit surprised myself at the outcome, but...

Today I want a baby.

Of course, it has nothing everything to do with this...

and this...

and this...

heh.  OK, maybe not the last one.  Gotta admit it's catchy, though.

Baby, baby, baby, oh... I'm like baby, baby, baby... Oh, excuse me.  er... Where was I?

Oh yes, babies.  I've been through all this before, of course.  I had a (rather superficial) longing for a little one a few years ago when I was still in school and absolutely not allowed to get pregnant.  (Yes, I was married then, but just had to finish school first!)  At that point I think it was more the You Always Want What You Can't Have theory working overtime on me.  I eventually got over it and realized that life with my hubby minus kiddos was actually pretty great, and that I likely wouldn't get this set-up back for 25 or so years once we start being "productive."  So I eased back into my contented self and enjoyed the last couple of years tremendously.  Till this summer when, with more gravity and depth, it hit me again.

Baby, baby, baby, oh... I'm like baby, baby, baby, oh... 

Gosh darn it!  Does anyone have a cure for getting this dang song outta my head?!

Maybe it's simply my "reproductive clock" ticking a little more loudly, like the closing in of a great alligator.  (Yes, that would make me Captain Hook.  Makes sense, contextually, I believe.)  Maybe it's the discovery that there is a lot of cute "Enchanted Forest" nursery decor to be had.  Maybe it's the fact that everyone and their mother seems to have a baby.  Whatever it is, it's got a good grip on my heart strings and is not letting go.  Of course, there are still a lot of difficult dreadful questions looming in the recesses (and, believe me, there are plenty of recesses) of my mind.  Questions like, 

What will happen to my music career when I'm needed 24/7 by another, totally dependent, human being?  

Isn't raising a person kinda expensive?

Will I be able to fit into the bridesmaid dress for my best friend's wedding next Spring?  

What kind of education would be best for him/her?

How will I discipline the child if when he/she is really naughty?

How do I prevent passing on certain... hm... "undesirable" traits?  Like perfectionism, for instance.

What if he/she grows up to despise his/her father and I or - worse - Jesus?

Will I even be able to get pregnant / carry a child to full term?  

If I am, where the heck will we put the dang baby???

Very moving questions.  Questions for which I have no answers.  Questions which I'm told every mother-to-be worries over and eventually figures out without so much as breaking a sweat... Well, OK, maybe one or two.  Still, not an easy pill to swallow.  Much harder than the one that kept me out of this whole mess to begin with.

Who knows to what end this battle raging in my mind will bring me.  Whatever it is, at least I'll have a good fight song to get me through it...

Baby, baby, baby, oh... I'm like baby, baby, baby, oh... I'm like baby, baby, baby, oh... 
I thought you'd always be mine.  Mi-i-ine.

Stay-At-Home Warrior

What do you want to be when you grow up?  I don't know anymore...  Maybe I never really did.  I've answered that question multiple ways over the last twenty-five years, from "a teacher" to "a farmer's wife" (true) to "a musician," only one of which has yet to come to pass (though dairy farming and gardening are rampant in E's gene pool, so you never know what may come about).  One thing I never answered was "a stay-at-home mom."  Maybe that's because my mom worked full-time since I was a tot, and the world of hard-working, "we can do it" mommas was all I knew.  I know now, of course, that stay-at-home moms have one of the most challenging (but subtly rewarding) jobs of all, but the thought of doing that job alone still gives me the heebie jeebies.  

I think one reason I've resisted the "at home" career path is the stunning lack of glory it involves.  While society still has marginal respect for women who choose to stay at home, the homefront itself doesn't offer much praise.  Let's face it: the hours spent in cleaning, doing laundry, assisting the development of one's own children, and cooking a decent meal don't always generate praise because -- when they're done -- things are as they "ought" to be.  Such chores do not necessarily bring kudos because, honestly, their completion doesn't necessarily bring recognition.  Cleanliness, order, sound children, and food on the table are, in our culture, givens.  Taken for granted.  And maybe that's how they ought to be.  But, still, the lack of praise can be deafening.

That's why I was truly astonished when I came across these words in the Word a few days ago:

The Lord gives the command;

The women who proclaim the good tidings are a great host:

"Kings of armies flee, they flee,

And she who remains at home will divide the spoil!"

Wow.  What a picture.  The women -- not just any women, but ancient, middle-eastern, home-making women -- are the warriors described in this psalm.  As I've noted before, women of biblical times were certainly not given the same influence as men, though we now find their influence to be greater than we may have realized.  (Read about that here and here, and brace yourself for the next installment; I promise, it's really coming!)  But those few women who were noted for their influence were not noted as such because they were stay-at-home women.  In fact, they were the opposite.  (I'm referring to Ruth, Esther, Proverbs 31 Lady, etc.)  This psalm, however, highlights the power of home-making women, at whose proclamation "kings of armies" run away scared, leaving the spoil to be divided among themselves.  And I doubt the spoil of kings of armies included Hoover vacuum cleaners, Avon make-up supplies or KitchenAid Mixers, however American commercialism of the 1950's (which still holds firmly today) may influence what we deem "treasures" to women.  I'll concede, diamonds were probably among the spoil (ahem, dear...).

But I'm forgetting the most important part: "The Lord gives the command."  At His word, even the most traditional, seemingly powerless women are given the strength to fight mighty battles.  Yet, this battle is fought with no weapons, but the words of good tidings.  Again, wow.  What are these "good tidings," then?  If you read the whole psalm, you'll find that it is themed largely around three facts: 

God is Present among His People:

O God, when You went forth before Your people,

   When You marched through the wilderness,      Selah.

The earth quaked; 

   The heavens also dropped rain at the presence of God;

   Sinai itself quaked at the presence of God, the God of Israel (vv. 7-8).

God Provides for His People:

God makes a home for the lonely;

   He leads out the prisoners into prosperity... (v. 6).

You shed abroad a plentiful rain, O God;

   You confirmed Your inheritance when it was parched.

Your creatures settled in it;

   You provided in Your goodness for the poor, O God (v. 9-10).

God Protects His People:

A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows,

   Is God in His holy habitation (v. 5).

Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears our burden,

   The God who is our salvation.

                                           Selah.

God is to us a God of deliverances;

   And to God the Lord belong escapes from death (v. 19-20).

These good tidings {God's presence, God's provision and God's protection} are the battle cry of Psalm 68's stay-at-home moms, whose words make armed, bearded men pee their pants and ruthless kings desert their fought-for treasures.  The truth is, the good tidings of ancient women are still our tidings today.  The gospel (which, of course, means "good news") is still our battle cry, for in Jesus we too were made participants in God's presence, provision and protection.  Both women who work outside of the home and stay-at-home moms alike have opportunities to tell these awesome truths to our friends, coworkers and children, not only in what we do but also in what we say.

May we, whatever our current or future job status may be, be great warriors of word, and may our weapon -- the gospel on our tongues -- always bring justice, mercy and peace.  I still don't know if the life of a "stay-at-home" mom is in my future.  The heebie jeebies may have their way yet.  But I know that there is glory in such a calling, and it belongs to God.

Sing to God, O kingdoms of the earth,
Sing praises to the Lord,       
Selah.
To Him who rides upon the highest heavens, which are from ancient times;
Behold, He speaks forth with His voice, a mighty voice.
Ascribe strength to God;
His majesty is over Israel
And His strength is in the skies.
O God, You are awesome from Your sanctuary.
The God of Israel Himself gives strength and power to the people.
Blessed be God!

{Psalm 68: 32-35}

*****

Seemingly Appropriate Post Script:

My Matthew

So, I'm pretty sure I have one of the best jobs on the planet... 'cause... I got to spend today with this little guy:

Obviously this picture was not taken today, but last May.  I can't believe how much he's grown since then!

I can't say too many wonderful things about Matthew.  He's my super kid.  He's one of the most kind-hearted, loving, sweet little boys I've ever known, and I love him back with all my being.  Sometimes when I lay my head down to sleep at night, if I start telling Eric about whatever Matty and I did that day, I can't keep the tears from forming in my eyes.  And I wonder at times whether I'll be able to hold as much love in my heart for my own child as I do for this one.  My heart is just so tender towards him.

Because of Matthew, I'm really starting to understand the Father's heart in that it's not what I do but who I am -- His child -- that makes Him love me.  'Cause Matthew's not perfect (ahem, nor my child, but I think the parallel stands).  But even when he has an "accident" again, even when he breaks down from exhaustion and throws a tantrum, even when he makes a mess on the just-cleaned kitchen floor, 

I adore him.  

Everything about him, from his slobbery kisses and heart-breaking smile, to his rambunctious parades of noise-making madness, I am totally smittened with.  Sure, I get frustrated with him at times, but I still love him to death.  I can't help it.  His imperfections only make me so much more thankful for who he really is: a little boy who loves and needs to be loved.

I never wanted a little boy.  Never.  I once thought it might be a good idea merely to perpetuate what is one of the coolest last names on the face of the earth.  But, in general, I thought I could do without the the mud tracked in and the trains abounding underfoot and the bugs brought to me for investigation and the generally loud running amok.  But Matthew has changed my mind.  I still long for a little girl to play princess with.  But I'd be ever so thankful for a little prince, too.  Which reminds me of another endearing thing about Matty -- his perpetual questions regarding my own perpetuation of the race.  My favorite time was when he asked, "Carrie, do you have a baby in your tummy?"  Laughingly I replied, "No, Matthew," to which he answered with his little hands on my... er... upper body, "But you have these."

He asked yet again a few weeks ago, "Carrie, when are you gonna get a baby?"  Good question, Matthew.  But not one I can answer, much to the chagrin of mothers everywhere (at least, one in North Carolina).  I don't know and won't venture to find out, but -- while attempting to enjoy every minute of this short married-without-kids season -- I can say I'm looking forward to the next season with prayer and hope that I "get" a kid as darling as my Matthew.

A happily exhausted pair.

-----

Stay tuned for the someday-forthcoming prequel and sequel 

- Rozzie and Daniel -

two more of my favorite kids in the world!