Perhaps you may know this about me if you know me in person, but I was the kid (and still hold this belief) that believed my dad to be the smartest man in the world. I mean, he’s a Christian, an engineer, and roots for the Ravens. How much smarter can you get? Not much. On top of that, he was a phenomenal dad. I could never complain of him. He has trusted and loved me more than he ever should have. I was a most beloved child, and a huge part of that was due to him.
Recently I got a text from my mom telling me that I was going to be receiving a surprise gift in the mail from dad. Within a few days, I received my surprise gift, a very nice new wallet. After I finished switching my belongings from my previous ratchet wallet to my new wallet, I thought “I miss him so much.This is a great opportunity to call my dad! It’s been a while, and I would love to catch up and thank him.”
Our conversation went as follows:
“Hey sweetie! How are you?”
“Good! I’m doing really well. I wanted to thank you for my new wallet, it’s so great! How did you know I wanted a new wallet?"
“Mom helped… a lot. I’m glad you like it sweetie. Happy anniversary.”
Not all that many people know this of me, but I'm adopted. Or specifically, half-adopted (I guess that’s not as specific since I’m pretty sure that’s not a real word). Basically, my dad met my mother when I was extremely little, and he adopted me, 16 years ago today in fact. We as a family went before a court, and before an array of witnesses and family, my dad adopted me. I remember telling all of my friends and teachers and telling them, “GUYS, my dad adopted me. How cool!!” I had no idea what it meant, since to me he was always my dad since as long as I could remember, and somehow going before the court made it legal and official. I most definitely had no idea of the theological implications of it, and I had no idea that even my dad had the option to not adopt me (i.e, be my step father). All I knew was that I was now my dad’s, just like other kid’s who’s last name matched both of their parents.
You will never know what it’s like to be adopted unless someone adopts you. Period. That may seem obvious, but I assure you, from someone who is adopted and knows what it’s like, it’s not.
Nothing is more humbling, more glorious, and more baffling than being adopted.
Nothing will shock you more than someone valuing you enough to pay money and give you his name, for no reason other than to love you and protect you. You bring nothing to the table (no matter your age), and you don’t even fully understand what is going on when it’s happening. And you never will, unless I guess you adopt (but even then, every adoption situation is unique and different. I’ll never understand what it was like for my dad to adopt me even if I adopt children one day).
Even though I can never fully understand why my dad adopted me, that doesn’t stop me from being called to be grateful for it. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to get the power of this, and shouldn’t take a Star Trek brain throbbing theology to get the importance of this.
I’m his daughter, through and through, and he chose to be my dad. If you haven’t figured out where I’m going with this post, I’m going to spell it out clearly now: Christian, you’re Christ’s brother or sister, through and through, and his Father chose to be your Father. Nothing could be more unfathomable than something such as this. I’m deeply grateful that I (partially) know firsthand what it’s like, but I’m far more grateful that my Father in heaven adopted me. Nothing could be more humbling, more glorious, and more baffling than that.