I can’t help but write on Father’s Day…
Many of the babies here will never know the name of their biological father. Madelyn, who just went back to the U.S. with her parents, was the daughter of a prostitute and… well, countless possible men. There were some hold-ups in her adoption process, because her birthmom had no permanent address and was wandering the streets. But today, Madelyn is in the U.S. with a mom and dad who will always be in her life.
I’m reminded of a talk Russell Moore gave at the orphan care/adoption conference I attended. He told about going to a Russian orphanage to pick up his sons. The building was completely silent, void of cries, despite many babies living there. The babies had realized that crying would do nothing. They wouldn’t be picked up. They wouldn’t be fed. So they stopped crying. Once his sons felt his love — the love of their father — they began to cry. Similarly, he said, “Abba” — meaning Father — is consistently cried out in the Bible. We are desperate for a Father.
And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” [Galations 4:6]
For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” [Romans 8:15]
Though I can’t remember the attention my dad gave me as a baby, I am so thankful for it. And the attention he’s given me as I’ve grown older? I’m beyond thankful for it. And as I consider these 16 orphaned children — thanks, Dad, simply for being in my life. That, in itself, is a blessing, I know now. I have loved the time we have spent together lately. A father who is also a friend is a blessing I know I’ll only continue to appreciate more in the future. Thank you, Dad, for your continual encouragement and support as I search and understand where my true passions lie. I love you, and I miss you.