I had a lady that I vaguely know spew unsolicited gossip into my ear yesterday and I’m still really upset about it this morning, so we’re totally going there.

The topic? Adoption, and why she thought a certain family should mos def not adopt. (The short & sweet answer being: they already have three of their own kids.)

And y’all know me:

I did not appreciate her opinion which I did not remotely ask for during a short grocery store conversation which I didn’t even realize we were having until homegirl dropped a rancid ignorance bomb on me STRAIGHT OUTTA NOWHERE.

Now, I have a certain amount of automatic respect for people older than me, but there are things that can be done or said to cause that amount to be drastically reduced. This was not merely an issue of old-fashioned points of view clashing with modern thoughts on adoption. In this case, adoption is simply biblical, encouraged by God Himself (if not literally commanded).

And I just could not keep quiet.

“Actually I see this in a very different way: I myself was adopted. Plus I have seven kids, so a four-kid family sounds like a cakewalk. I think what they are doing is beautiful and obedient. God will give them strength and patience.”

And though I was shockingly able to respond in a calm way, my heart is sickened over the thought of real live people with such negative attitudes toward, I dunno, seeking God’s direction in adding to your family plus providing a stable, loving environment for children in need to grow up with parents and siblings who teach them and walk with them in the ways of the Lord.

I am just…troubled. Don’t drag adopting couples in front of me.

  • I am adopted.
  • My best friends be adopting all the time.
  • Caleb and I would adopt 2 to 3 more children after these twins if we were so called. It ain’t off the table.
  • You cannot call yourself pro-life and then shake your head in disgust at couples willing to foster or adopt children no one else cares about.
  • Don’t like it? Keep it to yourself or take it up with Jesus and His Father God.

Here I am, living the first year of my drug-baby life up in the hospital, without parents.

And here I am with the woman who adopted me when I was well on my way to two years old. Check that malnourished build, that dehydrated melon skull, dem sunken eyes.

People told my parents that they were crazy, adopting a baby with so many health problems when they were perfectly capable of having their own biological children. I’m sure they even dealt with remarks like “you don’t know what kind of genes she has. What if she’s crazy? What if she grows up to be an addict?” (Joke’s on you fools: I am crazy!) I don’t know what their verbal response was, but their actions gave me the best dadgum mom and dad a kid could ever dream of having, and they gave me chance where there might have been none.

Adoption gave me a family, and a future, and a life.

And I can tell you that, growing up, I didn’t always recognize what I was given through their selfless act of love; I wasn’t the little well-behaved, beautiful wonderful perfect all-American daughter most parents dream of having.

But now, having been adopted through Christ, I can make the correlation between the blessing of having loving parents and an ideal childhood, and the blessing of being part of the family of God; both the very picture of the completely unearned and undeserved grace God wants to extend to all of us, both blessings that Satan goes to great lengths for us not to have.

And so, sweet lady, let me say with gentleness: it is a close-minded, damaging, worldly wisdom that leads one to make bold claims about the way other people should organize their families. According to that sort of logic, my friends have no business adopting children; I shouldn’t have seven kids; I shouldn’t have been adopted–maybe I shouldn’t even have been born.

But God’s way allows for miracles, rescue, and redemption; for hope and love. Where men cannot, God can. God will. GOD IS.

And y’all I am here for it.


About Toni

Mom. Wife. Artist. I take care of the kids and pretend to clean sometimes. I can cook spagetti and I have never been arrested. View all posts by Toni

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