Purposeful Life

Adoption is on my mind today. A three year old with course blond hair, and legs that are incapable of sitting still. A tree climbing, sand throwing, toy stealing, tool wielding chunk of a little boy that grew deeply imbedded into the hearts of my mom and dad. As of tomorrow morning, my new brother, 31 years younger, and himself younger than three of my children.
My folks were done. Two grown adult children living happily out of the house for almost 15 years. They had collected a son-in-law, 4 healthy grandchildren, a paid-off mortgage, more time than they knew what to do with, and bookcases full to prove it. The most important? A godly legacy. Both my brother and I love and serve Jesus Christ, the one true God in all that we do. What were they doing in their sixties, finally collecting geriatric discounts at Denny’s, with this handful of a little boy? I have asked myself this often.
There are many strange adoptions throughout history. The princess of Egypt found a waterproof basket, most likely woven of reeds, floating in a crocodile infested Nile. She knew he was Hebrew, a large and almost overpowering race of people, who were counted on to help build the great pyramids. There were so many of these slaves, the mandate was put forth to kill all the baby boys, and to this particular boy’s mother it was unfathomable. Kill him? No. I’ll at least give him a chance. I can’t take care of him, but there has to be someone, anyone, who will. If you’re unfamiliar with the story I’ll continue. Moses, he was named by the princess bathing there who found him. A handful of a boy, I imagine him to be, for while walking through the kingdom he killed a man for beating up a Hebrew slave. That doesn’t happen unless you feel things very deeply. That doesn’t happen unless you have impulsive passion for what you believe in. God takes a baby, floating precariously in a handmade basket, allows a woman, coincidentally of royal blood, to find him, yearn for him, educate him, love him, and ultimately, unbridle the yoke of ‘orphan’, and crown him a prince. Moses goes on to claim the ultimate prize for his original people, the Israelites, and lead them within arms reach of freedom. He found his purpose.
Similarly, my parents, through strange and divine adventure found this little boy. Wild and passionate of spirit, they’ve seen something in him that God Himself has wanted the two of them to see. Not finding him in a basket, I personally found him in a carseat, and at 8 weeks old, in need of somewhere to go. My mom and dad have been feeding him, caring for him, educating him and disciplining him faithfully ever since. His biological mother, realizing she could not care for him, knew there was a family who would. So tomorrow we start our new journey. My parents start over again on that long exhausting journey of parenthood. This little boy will learn to behave, to find his place in God’s kingdom, and learn he has a loving and welcoming family around him. Tomorrow will bring a judge’s gavel, signed legal paperwork to file away in dad’s office, and a new family member who joins our ‘village’. Me? I become the sister who looks after, and prays for us all…
Tomorrow, we all will find new purpose.

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