Guess what! I am adopted! When it first happened I didn’t really know what I had gotten myself into or rather what He had gotten Himself into.
Let me begin with a story. I have heard this story before but have forgotten most of the details so this is my version. The people, places and life situations can be interchanged but the hero is the same in all of them.
Years ago, but not to far away from here there was a girl. A slave. She had dark brown hair and eyes. Her arms and legs were lined with scars and burns from the punishments she received almost daily. She was bound in both literal and emotional chains and her face (when she was alone) was covered with dirt and permanent tear streaks. After years and years of abuse and ridicule she believed all the lies she had been told. She was worthless, disgusting and beyond all hope.
As a child she was told stories of a hero. A man who would come and save her, and not only her but also everyone she loved and cared about. But after time she learned that believing in fairytales was childish. Where was this hero when her infant child died or a few years earlier, or when her dad died, or when her mom sold her into slavery in order to keep her four younger siblings alive? Like I said she had given up hope that anyone was ever coming to rescue her. Especially no man. Every man she knew now was a disgusting pig whose only intent was to bring harm upon her in every way possible.
But one day her belief in fairytales was restored. Not right away of coarse. In fact, on that specific day things started out especially horrible she had had eight men come for services. She was alone in her room fixing her hair and makeup for the next customer. She was wiping the tears from her eyes. They were tears that only began to flow when she was alone because in the presence of others she was not permitted to cry. If she did the abuse would be even more unbearable. So a brave face covered in makeup was the only identity the men saw.
Then the man entered the room. The next customer. He had paid the fee to her owner and was ready to receive what he had paid for (as far as she knew). But this man looked different. He looked a little bit like her dad who had died when she was young. His clothes were different too. They were a lot dirtier and more rugged looking then the men that normally came.
She went across the room and sat on the bed.
“Good evening sir. What is your desire?” as the conversation always starts.
“I want you.” was his simple reply.
Well yeah she thought, of course he wants me why else would he be here. Actually he doesn’t want me at all he only wants what I can offer him.
“How would you like to do this? What is your desire?” she persists.
“No you do not understand he said. Come with me.”
Well that was new.
“ Sir, is there something wrong with the room? The bed?”
“Come my dear. Follow me”
Under any ordinary circumstances this would have terrified her. No one had ever requested leaving the room. Was this man crazy?!? Had he not seen how scary and mean her owner was? Yet there was something in the tone of his voice that made her want to leave with him. It was calming and captivating in a way. So as if her feet and mind were attached to two separate bodies she got up off of the bed and began to follow him out of the room. He grasped her hand and whispered something into her ear. At once tears rolled from her eyes and started streaming down her face. It was her name that he whispered but it wasn’t just that. It was the name her dad used to call her when she was a young child. She was stunned. They rushed down the stairs of the building and right out the front door. The owner was sitting on the porch cigar in hand. She knew that any second now he would chase after them and was terrified of the fury that would follow. To her surprise though he just sat there as if he was unable to move.
“Where are we going?” She asked
“Home.” he answered
With that one little word she believed again. There was a hero in this life that is not anywhere close to a fairytale sometime. She was finally going to have a home. The man somehow knew everything about her as if they were close friends. Her new home was filled with everything her heart had ever longed for. This man loved her and he cared for her with everything he had. He was never demanding of anything and healed her broken heart. He showed her her true identity and spoke life and truth into her. She truly was finally home.
The same thing has happened to me, and a lot of my friends and family. Maybe not to the same extent literally but spiritually it was pretty similar. We were adopted as his daughters and sons. We were (and still are) filthy and broken sinners but he chose to fight for us and give us a new family and identity. You know what the coolest part is? It is completely free! It’s like when the billionaire Oliver Warbucks adopted little orphan Annie.
Today is Mothers day. The day to celebrate her life and the life she has given us. Sadly not everybody has a mother. Some have passed and some are just distant. Some of us have been abandoned by them, or separated by circumstances beyond our control. This goes for fathers as well. But I am here to tell you that my heavenly father has a huge house. There are rooms in it for everyone. In fact I think I can see your name on the door frame and a picture of you on His refrigerator. He is not like any earthly parents. Not even the ones you have imagined after being enraged by yet another request to clean your room. So I know that it sucks and it hurts every day when you believe you are not good enough, or when you want more then anything to talk to or hug mom or dad and you cant. I just want you to know that even if you don’t have a mom, or a dad, or the relationship you desire to have with them. You can have something even better. You can have a heavenly father, a daddy, or as I like to call Him “Abba.” He is taking your hand and whispering your name. Will you let him lead you home?
"For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, 'Abba, Father.' The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children." Romans 8:14-16
