Adoption is beautiful.
When a family chooses to love a child who grew in their hearts instead of their bellies — to BE the raw and real hands and feet of Jesus, to embrace hard things, to take on new challenges and to learn to love in ways that a child who may or may not have a broken past can receive, clinging to the strength of God because they know they don’t have the wisdom or strength or patience to do it alone — THAT is beautiful.
That is inspiring.
That is the heart of God.
And it paints the most beautiful picture of the Gospel. Of a Father who gave everything to adopt US as His children.
Not when we had it altogether.
Not when we were the picture-perfect models of joy and obedience.
Not when we were cute and little and innocent and adorable.
But when we were just one hot mess in need of a Savior.
Adoption presents this BEAUTIFUL picture of the way our Father God chooses to passionately love US.
But despite the BEAUTY, at the heart of every adoption story is BROKENNESS.
Abandonment.
Heart-wrenching choices and complicated decisions.
Loss that I will truly never fully understand but that I grieve over every time Superman conquers a new challenge. Hits a new milestone. Celebrates another birthday. Does something the beautiful woman who carried him and loved him and delivered him will never be able to see.
Loss that I would give my life to restore to this boy I love so much.
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