I have friends who have six children. When the wife expressed a desire to adopt more, her husband said (as mine would later say), “Have you lost your mind?” indicating that they were already child-poor and chaos-rich. The husband summed it up thusly, “Women just like babies.” Which is true. . .

My mother had two miscarriages, then she and my father offered to adopt a close relative of hers, but their offer was declined and the child had a tragic life. As for Mom, she delightedly held all the babies who came her way. With this example before me, it was natural that I would want a lot of kids. So, we had four biologically and one (the caboose) by adoption. Bless his heart, our adopted son turned out to be the sole extrovert in a household of introverts. Always jabbering, he filled our home with chatter, as our daughter had done fourteen years earlier. He invaded our private spaces; why read a book when you could converse? He sang continuously. As a toddler, his singing Nat King Cole songs in the grocery cart surprised many a shopper. Life with him was both fun and frustrating. The day we took him home was one of the happiest days of my life, but parenting him was not easy for me.

Usually, we enter the adoption process with little knowledge and unrealistic expectations, thinking that love will quickly fix all the problems. I was informed, but didn’t understand, how painful it would be for a toddler to leave the foster family with whom he had bonded. Neither did I comprehend the enormous disadvantage I was under not knowing anything about his biological family. There were hidden difficulties, both physical and mental that I didn’t have a clue how to address. We visited doctor after doctor seeking solutions, always praying that someone would have answers. Along the way, we occasionally met people who offered us snippets of wisdom which we snarfed up with gladness and relief. Then, with a little more hope under our belts, we’d keep going.

It’s taken almost thirty years for me to get a clue about how much God has blessed us through adoption because the journey didn’t look the way I thought it should. I was too critical of myself and too critical of him. About seventeen years in, I had an “aha!” moment when I witnessed, in the middle of a family imbroglio, the transformative power of love. In that instant, love and concern were offered and accepted. We both learned something important: that whatever came, we were connected. We were family.

In a much more profound way, we who believe, have been adopted by God. He sent His Son to be the Savior of the world; to create a new familial bond. The apostle John said He did it out of love:

“See how great a love the Father has bestowed on us, that we would be called children of God; and such we are.” 1John 3:1

God is with us for the long haul even if the journey doesn’t look the way we envisioned it; neither smooth nor scenic. But He will see us to maturity. We are, forever, His sons and daughters.