Orphan Sunday 2022

 

November is National Adoption Month. Today is Orphan Sunday. One day I hope this is no longer an annual or semi-annual blog post. We aren't there yet, there is still work to be done. So until then I will speak for those who are often relegated to an afterthought or brushed aside unless you happen to be reading the book of James and come across 1:27. It is usually about this time where I give you some numbers that are attached to children in a system. This year there won't be any numbers or statistics. It is far too easy to go numb when you view a number. We can gloss over a simple statistic. They are sterile. It is one of the reasons I try to at least give an image to show the life behind them when I use them for a year post. I don't want you to be numb to the plight of these children. I want you to see them for who they are, not a number, not a statistic, but a person.

This year I’m going to go a different route. In doing so this will be much a shorter post than normal, but perhaps that is not a bad thing. Short, sweet, and simple, is my usual way of speaking with my mouth, though rarely so with my fingers. This time I’m going to give it a go in this format and see what happens.  

In the past year I’ve had the incredible honor and opportunity to attend two adoption ceremonies for friends of mine that I attend church with. These weren’t elaborate things, unless you count the people that packed the court rooms to see them take place. That being said they were emotional, exciting, and prayed for events. Watching these kids whom I’ve known since they were babies being legally counted as members of their families is an experience that is hard to explain. It is as best as I can picture the earthly version of Ephesians 1:5. Loved. Chosen. Family.  

It was a glimpse of what I hope my future looks like, though I’m not so sure about the location of the courtroom or even the language spoken by the people where it is located. A place where children understand that they are chosen, loved, and made family with the stroke of a pen. That in itself was one of the best points of the proceedings I witnessed. Watching the judges doing their best to explain exactly why they were in the room to kids is not often what we think of when we think of the profession. Often, we think of severe men and women handing out punishments for crime. Instead, these were happy people, proclaiming with the swing of a gavel that these children belonged, forever, to their families.  

They may not always remember the day they legally became family. But, I can guarantee you that the adults in that room won’t forget . At least I know I won’t. I can think of no better future for the children still waiting. One where they are surrounded by people who love them to the point there isn’t room to fit them all in a single room. Loved. Chosen. Family. Exactly as they deserve.