It’s been 20 months.
Well, 20 months minus four weeks. Our friends accepted a four-week-old infant foster care placement nearly two years ago. It has been a ride for them as they navigate the system and learn from case workers and struggle through trusting a trustworthy God.
And now she is theirs. Officially, legally theirs.
This is a beautiful celebration for our community.
In the car on Saturday I chatted with the boys about what the day held. When I mentioned we had a party later for our little friend, they asked how old she was. I told them her age but reminded them we’re celebrating that she’s officially a [their last name] now.
One son innocently asked, “But how can she be? She doesn’t look like them.”
It has been so interesting learning from my friend as she navigates the waters of transracial adoption. People assuming she isn’t theirs. Asking mostly well-meaning, but occasionally not-well-meaning, questions. Figuring out how to respond in a Christlike way as a man holds open a store door for two white moms and their kids, then intentionally shuts it when he sees my friend coming with her kids.
So, yeah.
My friend doesn’t have the answers. She tries to turn things positive and instructive when she has the chance. But it’s not always her first response.
In our car ride scenario, I took the time to remind the boys we don’t look much like God. He is perfect and holy and pure love. On our own, we are not.
And yet He adopts us into His forever family.
I want a space for our children to learn and struggle and ask questions. To discover different cultures and family structures. To truly believe in the beauty of God’s creation and His delight in it.
If you haven’t seen this video, you need to watch it. And please don’t talk to me about peaceful protesting. This is not okay.
And pray for our nation.