You’re not my real mom.

I have a friend who is working through the incredibly glorious and painful process of caring for a newly adopted daughter.

On the good days, she would tell you about the unspeakable joy that comes when the barriers of blood and DNA dissolve in the baptism of true family that comes through love.  On the hard days, she has to endure the incredibly violating pain of watching this little human look at her and reject her love as insufficient because of that DNA.  The oceans this mom has crossed, the scars she bears that declare her love and evidence her intention – all are dismissed as inadequate.

For the broken days

[My sweet pal Annie wrote this for me a couple of weeks back, on the anniversary of my dad's death. I'm hopeful it will minister to you as much as it ministered to me.]

Every day is broken.

But today feels broken.

I share this dark and broken day with a very close friend of mine. Three years ago today, her dad passed away on my dad’s birthday. This day will forever link our hearts together. Every year, this day comes and I’m doubly broken. I’m broken for the pain she must relive every year on this haunting day. I’m broken for another year that my dad’s birthday won’t be celebrated.

You win.

There are days when all my passionate topics and all the hills I’m ready to die on on get totally eclipsed by a glimpse of something bigger.  Days like December 5th.  Days like today.  When all that matters is that my God is on His throne and He is working all things for the good of those who love Him and all the foolish things that seem so important evaporate in the eternal.

Today I don’t care about scheduling or singleness. I don’t care about the fun I’m missing and I don’t care about the emails flooding my inbox. I don’t care about disputes and disagreements and I don’t care about insults or frustrations.

I am being restored

He restores my soul.

It might be one of the most famous passages of scripture:  

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. (Psalm 23:1-3 ESV)

He restores my soul.

My soul feels…tattered.  It feels bent and broken, by sin, by suffering, by this world.

But He restores my soul.

Ask nicely

“Want loud!  Want Jesus Better loud!” – That’s how my favorite 3-year-old asks me to turn up the volume to his favorite song in the car.

“Ask nicely, buddy!” – That’s what I tell him.

“Please-may-I-have-Jesus-Better-loud -please.” – That’s his response.

The cuteness doesn’t really translate when you read that because you can’t hear the ridiculousness of his voice, but trust – it’s totes adorbs.  And no one in their right mind would say no.