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In the Hope of Adoption, by Tiffany Childs

In the Hope of Adoption, by Tiffany Childs

SEPTEMBER 10, 2016

/ Articles / In the Hope of Adoption, by Tiffany Childs

It was the best I had--and I was soul-piercingly aware of how far short it fell.

For years my husband and I had prayed for more children. Woven within my biology and innate desires, mothering was important to me. After experiencing miscarriage, infertility, and later secondary infertility, he and I felt called to adopt embryos. I knew in this kind of adoption, I might not see the faces of my little ones, for whom I had painfully prepared and fervently prayed. I was hopeful God would not multiply my suffering. Instead, I carried seven little ones from cryopreservation straight into the arms of Jesus.

As a high-functioning, churched gal, assimilating the admonitions of God was something I thought I pulled off— up until this point. I was well versed in describing proper actions and heart attitudes. At this moment, suffering had stripped away my ability to handle things well. Death laid my soul bare. In this task, I knew while my mission was fulfilled on behalf of these frozen ones, my heart was both exposed and crushed.

I wish I could have said, “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be His name.”

What emerged instead was a mix of anger and sadness directed toward the heavens. Admonishments and advice were poor comforters. In a moment of honesty, I was confronted with my own indwelling unbelief. As I became acquainted with this new level of brokenness, I wondered what God thought about all of this.

I knew I could no longer rely on the strength of my faith and trust to continually negotiate His love and acceptance.

The words that pierced pain weren’t, “You should know better than this.”

Instead, what echoed through history and reverberated in theology with tender and unfailing affection was, “You are mine.”

God led me to adopt so that I might see I had been loved and adopted first. He knew He couldn’t have gotten my attention any other way. It was in this good work that He revealed more of my sinfulness, not to shame or shun, but to prove His love.

My need for adoption arises from brokenness. The burden of reconciliation was accepted and lifted by God the Father in and through the work of Jesus Christ, the Son. It happens outside of me, as my myriad of efforts (and lack thereof) are not weighed and divided, but hidden with Christ in God. This truth allows a deep breath only the Gospel provides. The Spirit of Adoption set as a seal promises the hope of never-failing love and an end to all kinds of pain and grief. In my need, the Father kissed my tear-stained face with grace.


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