my adoption story

 I have been asked many times if I feel the same toward my "adopted" children as I do toward my "biological" child. (side note: There are many things very wrong with that question, but I will leave that for a future post.)

 I cannot answer that question without first reflecting on my own adoption:

 I horribly offended God by disregarding his truth and word.

 I committed great offenses as I lived in open rebellion toward him by trying to follow my way instead of God’s.

  God is not only the judge—that could rightly punish me and pour out his anger and wrath on me. He is also the offended, the victim of this great and vast sin.

  God, the judge (and simultaneously the victim) came down off the bench after pardoning my horrible offense that ignited his wrath and instead chose to adopt me—at the expense of his very own “biological” (so to speak) son—Jesus the Christ.

  God’s anger and wrath were poured out on Christ and instead of that being my fate, I get to enjoy the full blessing of being a daughter of God almighty and a co-heir with Christ.

  God did not adopt me because I was a “good” person. He did not adopt me because I’m better then the really evil people in the world. He did not adopt me because I chose the right religion. He adopted me simply because he is God and loved me. All he required of me was faith and faith alone—belief and trust in his son, Jesus.

    This is why I believe in adoption. Because I am an eternally adopted child of the creator of the universe.

    This is why I can say with full honesty and passion that I am deeply attached to, love, would die for, loose sleep over, pray over, weep over the sin of, and care for all my children equally and the same. How I long for their souls to know my Jesus. How I long for them to experience this same adoption I experienced. How privileged I am to be the mother of such precious children.