“For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will—to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves.” (Ephesians 1:4-6)
The richness of this passage is one of the main reasons Bill and I began the adoption process. While were still his enemy and completely deserving his righteous judgement, Christ died for us. After his death was the resurrection, giving life to those who put their hope and trust in Jesus Christ as their Savior. With that life comes almost the most unbelievable part–we are now joint-heirs with Jesus, adopted as sons and daughters of God himself. So now, the enemies of God inherit the very kingdom of that same God, as his beloved children.
If that’s been done for me, how can I possibly not turn around and adopt children far more innocent than I am? How can I not give them an inheritance, a family, and a true belonging they wouldn’t have otherwise?
So we adopted. We were excited. We love children, wanted more, and couldn’t wait to add to our numbers. It was going to be great.
Except it wasn’t.
As much as we love children generally, we quickly realized just how much we prefer our bio kids to other kids. Our two new children looked different, smelled different, sounded different, and acted very, very different. And to be completely honest and put myself out there in a terrifying way, we didn’t and still don’t love them in the same way we love our original six.
I hate saying it more than almost anything else. Because they’re beautiful. Because they can’t help the way they were raised or the terrible things that happened to them. Because I should be able to extend the same grace and love to them that’s been extended to me. But as of today, my heart still isn’t there. I’m a sinner who doesn’t really believe the truth of the passage quoted above. I think I deserve my inheritance because I’ve worked so hard to earn God’s love, and in the same way I expect my children to work hard to earn my affection, too.
It’s despicable, and I have no defense.
But I want to be real. I want to let those of you who are considering adoption in on the secret I didn’t know beforehand–most of the adoptive parents I’ve talked to feel the same way in the beginning, some for years. The biggest exception here seems to be newborn adoption or adoption before the couple had biological children. Otherwise, most (not all) have struggled in this area at least for a time.
Honestly, though, even if I’d known, I’m sure in my pride I would have believed I was better than all of them. I know the gospel, unlike them. I have a ginormous heart for children, unlike them. I’m a better parent than they are. I have more experience. Yada yada yada. Once again, I’ve gotten to eat a big slice of humble pie.
My love for them is growing on the graph. You know the graph that dips and rises all over the place but is slowly rising over all? That would probably best describe it. At one point early on, I almost wouldn’t have been upset if something had fallen through and they wouldn’t have ended up as official Bells (yes, I’m determined to keep it real as hard as this is to type), but now I’d be devastated. Some days I feel like I could eat them up or hold them for hours on end. Some days mama bear comes out if one of them has had their feelings hurt. All this is confirmation to my heart that God is still working and perfect and loves them and loves me and won’t stop knitting us together.
But it’s a daily battle. Truly the hardest thing I’ve experienced. I can’t stand loving them differently. I’m impatient and want all the lovey dovey feelings to come now.
But I’m also more grateful than I can say that those feelings have yet to come.
I’m grateful because the passage above has hit me harder than ever before. If I’m having this difficult of a time loving little ones who have done nothing to be my enemy, how much greater of a love have I received from a God I have denied, spit upon, hated!? He made me his beloved child, adopted me as his own, while I hated him. He’s lovely, I’m unlovable, yet he loved me in a far deeper way than is possible to imagine. And he did it according to the pleasure of his will.
And because of that vast unfailing love, I can trust that he won’t abandon me, won’t stop growing me up to look more and more like him, won’t let his girl continue in sin. I can trust that he loves all my children perfectly where I love imperfectly, and he’ll grow them, too, in spite of their mother’s failures. He’ll even use my failures they see to show them more and more to never put their hope in anyone or anything besides him. And he’ll continue to show all of us that even the sin that stops us from loving well has been paid for on the cross, that we’ll never be able to do it on our own, and he’ll give us reason to rejoice in him once again.
Here are all the posts in our adoption series:
- Getting Real About Adoption
- Loving the Unlovable
- Sin in the Adopted Child
- Support for the Adoptive Parent
- Broken-Hearted Parents
- Some Clarifying Thoughts on Our Adoption
- Examining Adoption Resources (reviewing The Connected Child, Pt 1)
- Normal and Healthy? (reviewing The Connected Child, Pt 2)
- A Matter of Foundations (reviewing The Connected Child, Pt 3)
- The Sins of Neurology (reviewing The Connected Child, Pt 4)
- Idol Swapping (reviewing The Connected Child, Pt 5)
- Setting the Course (reviewing The Connected Child, Pt 6)
- Another Way Forward (reviewing The Connected Child, Pt 7)
- The Therapy Our Children Need
- Who Are You Calling Normal?
- Optional Adoption
- How to Adopt for Almost Free (And No Fundraising!)
- What About “Those” Kids?
- Trying to Make Them Lovable