Thursday, December 11, 2008


The past few days have been rough...and I mean really rough. I guess, as it is with my back surgery, things must get worse before they get better. So is the case with my life as God strips away the layers of performance, fear, and expectation to reveal His heart for me. My Heavenly Father has redefined parenthood. As if His unconditional love is not enough, He wants me. He doesn't want me for my intelligence, my talents, or my gifts...He wants me for my heart.

I love the idea of adoption. My prayer and hope is to, one day, bring a child into my home that is not of my genetic line but instead of my "love line." This portrait of parenthood is infinitely beautiful in my mind. A Parent is not a parent out of obligation or genetic predisposition. Instead, a parent is a parent out of a heart to love, a longing to nurture, and desire to comfort. This parent longed for a new life, and chose to rescue this new life from an uncertain future. Isn't that what our loving and selfless Christ does for us? He brings us into His family and bestows an inheritance, not because He must, but because He chooses...He chooses us. He picks us. He loves us.....He loves me.

I tear up, even as I write this, because the realization of His longing for me gives substance to my sometimes shaky confidence and security as I continue walking in, what feels like, blind faith. The world around me questions me. Ultimately I question me. What's worse, I question my God. I often find myself defending my decisions, justifying my lifestyle, and substantiating my heart's desire. At the end of the day, I am exhausted, both emotionally and spiritually. I begin doubting the purpose of my existence and I question God's sovereignty. By His grace, I am reminded that my earthly surroundings do not direct my path or define my identity. In fact, any identify I have in the world has been crushed by the powerful hand of an Almighty God. That same hand that can create a planet from nothing and end the world in an instant simultaneously comforts me in my sorrow and holds me close as I tremble. 

What comfort. What security. What a Father.

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