by April L. Cao

The first time I became a parent I prepared with the tenacity of an Olympic athlete. As my midsection expanded I fed my insatiable hunger for all things parenting related with books on sleep schedules, early childhood development and nutrition. We painted the nursery with whimsical sailboats stenciled along the trim, filled the dresser with every shade of blue imaginable and if the gadgets and toys were any indication of how much we loved our son, than love was in obscene abundance.

Fast-forward two years, living overseas with a busy two-year-old and a desire to grow our family. This time our journey took an expected yet joyful turn. We were adopting and in the midst of excited preparations the landscape had changed. Gone were the nursing bras and maternity jeans and there was no longer a need for bouncy seats or infant slings. Adoption meant that we scoured books on attachment and bonding, were pregnant with paperwork and fluent in the language of referrals, dossiers and travel.

We learned quickly that you couldn’t just decide to become an adoptive parent. It wasn’t enough that we had a loving and committed relationship and had already begun raising our family. We had to prove, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that we were reliable, responsible, deserving parents. We were finger printed, background checked and observed by social workers. We had to have multiple character references, endured physical examinations and provided countless financial statements proving our fiscal worthiness. It didn’t matter what color her room would be and there were certainly no gold stars for coordinating outfits and matching hair bows. We were not being considered according to what we had, but what we had to give. And as the months passed and turned into a year and then more, I found myself turning to God with the question that no other book could satisfy, what no social worker could define. What is adoption?

Asking God the simplest of questions can bring about the most life changing answers. When I asked God to instruct me on adoption He said very simply “You are adopted!” and in that moment I understood how I would define adoption for our daughter. It didn’t matter how long we had waited or how many forms we had filed. As God chose us despite our flaws and weaknesses, we chose adoption despite the frustration and tediousness of the process. Paul writes in Ephesians 1:5 (emphasis added) ” . . . that in love He chose us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ in accordance with his pleasure and will . . .”

Adoption means to be chosen. Like love, it is an action. It means having a spirit of rebirth and renewal while trusting in the irrevocable love given by the parent. As I prayed for my daughter who had already loved and lost so much in her short life, I marveled over the comparisons between my adoption through salvation in Jesus and her adoption into our family.

I always said that one of my greatest prayers for my daughter was that she does not define herself by her adoption. Now I pray that she grows to love the Lord and desires to be a part of a greater adoption than her own, one that will guarantee her inheritance for eternity.

About the Author:
April Lakata Cao is a native of Northern Virginia and currently resides in Virginia Beach, Va., where she has just completed her eighth move in eleven years of marriage. April and her husband, a graduate of the United States Naval Academy, have two beautiful children ages four and seven. Visit her blog, Amazing Grace, at  www.intoourheart.blogspot.com.