I think it was very important for what I am called to say, that I was never able to carry any of my babies to term.  Because frankly, if I was not an adoptive mother, and if I had not suffered the loss of children, there are things I would never be able to understand about our relationship with God as Father, and how we are to relate to Him and what our actions towards Him mean in terms of this unique relationship.

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Ro 8:15 For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.

16 The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God:

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Paul writes about our adoption as sons 5 times in scriptures (5 being the number of grace) and Paul uses adoption to illustrate something very important to us.  Before I became an adoptive parent, I would look at those verses on adoption and I would be kind of disappointed, because I viewed adoption through the eyes of 80’s and 90’s television, which was not adoption positive.  Adopted kids were the charity cases, they were the consolation prizes, they were maybe second best.  Adoption was often something hidden instead of out in the open. However, becoming an adoptive parent changed everything for me.

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Just talk to a barren couple on a waiting list, ask what they think of adopted children and they might just burst into tears right in front of you, out of pure longing.  When you have a desire for a child, and that longing goes unfulfilled, it is a pain that cannot be expressed.  But when you get that call that a child is coming, it is unimaginably wonderful.  The overwhelming majority of adopted children are wanted, very very badly.  They have been prayed for and ached for, oftentimes for many years before they are born.  To be adopted is to be the answer to the prayers of a parent, to be adopted is to be chosen.

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But I was taught that the Jews were the natural children and the Gentiles were adopted, and not understanding what I explained above, I felt like a second class citizen.

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Ro 9:For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh:

Who are Israelites; to whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and the service of God, and the promises;

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But right here, Paul says that we are ALL adopted, all who are of Israel, those who were born Jews as well as those who were born Gentiles.  There is only one flesh and blood son of God, and that is Yeshua (Jesus) the Messiah, born of a woman and of the Spirit of God.  The rest of us are all adopted, no one above any other.  There is one first born Son and the rest of us are added in as we are found (because were were lost) and chosen.

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Eph 1:5 Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will,

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I could go on and on about adoption and what it means for us and what it was about historically with Yeshua and Moses, who were both adopted, but I want to recommend a series of teachings by Rico Cortes from Wisdom in Torah Ministries on the Laws of Adoption in the Ancient Near East, there is a small yearly charge to access his site, but it is well worth it.  I am not here to cover history, especially when someone else does it better than I do, but instead to talk about what adoption means as it relates to our relationship with the Father.

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Continuing on, our adoption was also a contested one — not by their wonderful birthmother but by their birthfather, who was in prison for some very serious crimes.  In the same way, we were also the result of a contested adoption, and it was our natural father, the devil (John 8:44), who was fighting it tooth and nail.  Our adoption of Matthew and Andrew cost us every cent we had and then some, but when God adopted us, it cost Yeshua His life.  When we look at our sons, we see all that money as proof of their value and how badly the enemy wanted them out of our home, and when God the Father sees us, I imagine that He must see our worth in terms of the price He paid as well.  I am certainly not comparing myself to God but I believe with all my heart that we had this experience for a reason, and I have to believe that the lessons He taught us are there for others to glean from.

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And so here’s where we get to the part of the story that He showed me this afternoon, and it really grieved me.

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The cruelest thing an adopted child can do to their parent is what I am about to share with you.  It’s something that hurts bad enough when other people imply it or outright say it, but when your child says it it’s just like a knife to the heart.  I will never forget the day, probably about a year ago, when I asked my son Andrew to do something for me, and he refused.  I told him that I was his mother and that he would do what I was telling him to do — and he looked me right in the eye with a nasty smirk and said the words I had always dreaded, “You aren’t my real mother.”  And with a triumphant look, he turned around and ignored me.  I honestly hurt more than I knew it was possible to hurt.  This beautiful child who I had given up everything for, my job, my freedom, our money, our lives — he had just told me that none of what I DID mattered, that he didn’t recognize my authority in his life.  Authority that was borne not out of conquest, but established every day of his life in loving acts.

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But don’t we do that to God our Father as well?  When we refuse to obey His commandments, we may not hear these sorts of things coming from our mouths, but are we telling Him that He’s not our real Father through our actions?  If our actions and our true motivations behind them could speak out loud, would they sound like this?

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Your laws are legalistic!

I have better things to do on a Saturday than spend it with You!

Look, the feasts are interesting, but my friends want me to spend Christmas and Easter with them, so go spend Passover with the Jews!

Oh my gosh, do You even have to control what I eat now?

Fringes, what, do you want me to look like an idiot?

It’s not like You’re my real Father.

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Of course, we don’t say it like that out loud, but is that what our actions say?  Isn’t that what we believe our children are really saying to us when they refuse to obey? When I think about how badly Andrew hurt me with what he SAID, and I look back over the years at the things I have DONE, well, wasn’t Andrew simply being more honest about his contempt for my authority than I was being with God?

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What part of “And YHVH spoke to Moses, saying, “Command the children of Israel to…” is too hard for me to deal with?  Am I not one of the children of Israel now?  Paul sure says I am in Ephesians 2!  Was the price He paid for me insufficient?  Has he not firmly established His right to be my authority and then built upon that with even more loving-kindness and grace?  Do I want to tell Him that He’s not my real Father when I have longed for that type of relationship my whole life?

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I want you to know that when Andrew turned his back on me, he had already seen the look on my face and his exultation didn’t last long.  When my pain really hit him, he repented and he has never repeated the comment.  But perhaps he had to  learn how deeply I love him, by finding out exactly how deeply he could hurt me.   And I think that I had to learn how deeply I hurt God when I refuse to recognize His authority to set up the rules of His own house.

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We reject God the Father all the time, as a Body as well as individually.  And I’ll tell you something, He receives us back in repentance not because He has to but because He wants to. I know that because when Andrew came to me and told me I was his only mommy… well, let’s say we were both pretty emotional.  So, right now I want to say something publicly.

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“Father God, You ARE my real Father.”

Andy and myself when he was about 2

Andy and myself when he was about 2

 

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