My dad is in India. He visited an orphanage today, the children all sang to him and each one made sure to tell him "Happy Father's Day!" Even though they don't celebrate Father's Day in India, someone knew and decided he needed to be blessed by the orphans in this small but sweet way. Blessed by the orphans. We think of orphans as the ones who need our blessings, our prayers, our money, our love. We forget that they have blessings of their own to share with us. We forget that we, too, are desperately needy for joy, for friendship, for love.
When I heard about my father and his Father's Day with the orphans, my mind went immediately to the place it always goes when someone mentions orphans. "I wish I could help, but what can I do?" Then I remembered that no less than a month ago I took an orphan into my arms and called him my own.
Had I already forgotten that moment when time stood still? When I opened my arms and my heart for that baby boy who was a stranger, an orphan with a recently shaved head, clothes that were threadbare, and all of his belongings sent in one small shopping bag. He came to us with a set of playing cards, some hard boiled eggs, a baby bottle filled with rock sugar, some old, worn clothes, and the photo albums we had sent. Oh, and his Bunny, sent to him by us a few months before, who has constantly been by his side while he bravely faces this new life of his.
It is so easy for me to forget those things because my mind does not think of him as an orphan any more. I look at him and see my son. I see his brilliance shining through every smile, every laugh, every new word he acquires. (Today's word was "balloon" and he worked so very hard to master each syllable just so.) I have not forgotten how we found him or how we waited (and waited) for him. Yet, he fits into our family so perfectly, so seamlessly, that it seems as if he has always been here.
I also think my mind wants to forget that he was an orphan because that is the miracle of adoption. Adoption is a redefining of our very identity. In one moment, strangers became mother and son, father and son, brother and sister, grandmother and grandchild. We were transformed in an instant and there is no going back.
I get it now. The old is gone and we are a new creation. God does not remember that we came to him tattered and scarred. He has forgotten that we were orphans. He sees only his daughter, only his son. We are the ones who want to remember. We keep going back to before. We ask God, "Remember when I was that person who was lost and angry and full of judgment all the time?" God says, "No, I had forgotten. Now you are my child who knows my love and you are none of those things. When I see you, I see your brilliance shining through."
We are transformed and there is no going back.
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: the old has gone, the new is here." 2 Cor 5:17
No comments:
Post a Comment