So two and a half years ago, my family received a baby boy that we were planning to adopt. And in a mix of events and his can’t-blog-about family member, he is now being taken from our home.
This is no ordinary boy. We were supposed to adopt an older child…and God gave us a baby. This baby was supposed to have a mental disorder…and he is a right-on-track toddler. And this toddler was supposed to have a speech problem…and he is officially talking up a perfect storm.
And when I pray for him, I know he has a revival starting, heart piercing, unceasingly praying, puts-his-feet-on-the-ground-and-Satan-shudders type call on his life.
I know I don‘t serve a God of mistakes. That when He placed lil C and lil C‘s fro into our family, He wasn’t joking around or messing with our hearts.
And I want him to grow up in our family . Not because my family is perfect…we all hate each other after the shortest of road trips and have had tragically embarrassing restaurant experiences and between the ten of us, quite the assortment of contrasting personalities…but because I was raised knowing Grace.
I have a dad who has the patience and goodness of all the saints in the Bible combined (…put up with my charming teen years of ending everything with “-uh!”…as in Dad-uh!!! Why-uh!?!) and who gave me the inner security that only a Heavenly Father could supply his daughter. And I have a 8-kid-raisin, doctor-workin mom whose faith moves my mountains for me. Who taught me that life is not supposed to be easy but that God is supposed to be glorified.
My parents love their children in a way that I don’t understand yet. And C. is their child.
I believe in the Power of prayer and Hosanna in the Highest and that God will move on behalf of His saints.
…So what I’m really trying to say is pray for a miracle, pray for my parents, pray for my siblings, and pray, pray, pray for this little boy. Because we have just a few weeks until his final court date.
Let us hold unswervingly to the HOPE we profess, for He who promised is FAITHFUL. Hebrews 10:23