The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. (Romans 8:16-17)
I used to read this verse and have a combination of the following questions mixed with extreme doubt, skepticism, and disbelief:
Co-heirs?
Equal heirs?
Fellow heirs?
With Christ? Seriously?
So, let me back up a little bit…. Let me take you into my baggage and into my past experiences with love. I grew up thinking, and for much of my adult life, I struggled with believing these two lies about love:
- Love has favorites.
- Love is conditional. . . I will never be good enough to earn, deserve, or keep someone’s love.
I grew up enjoying being most people’s favorite. It was easy for me, and I unknowingly fell into the trap of maintaining my “place” as the favorite.
My grandparents were everything to me; I was their favorite, and I loved it. I felt secure in their love for me and secure in my place as the favorite. My Gran’ma, especially, was my world. She was the one I associated unconditional love with. I knew because I knew because I knew that my Gran’ma would love me forever and always. I was her favorite. Her love for me was not going anywhere.
Her death left a massive hole in my heart because she was my unconditional.
I strived—worked really hard—to be my parents’ favorite and my siblings’ favorite and my friends’ favorite—I feel very safe in the love of others if I know that I am the favorite—and I still find myself, today, struggling with being the favorite: my kids’ favorite, my parents’ and siblings’ favorite, my friends’ favorite . . . . it is an exhausting and never ending quest. It is a quest that is bound to fail.
I also grew up with a voice in my head telling me that love is conditional and that I have to be good enough to earn and keep love. I have to be smart enough or selfless enough or pretty enough or fit enough or whatever enough to earn the love of those I long to be loved by. This voice was often an echo of things that people had told me, and it frequently mirrored how I felt people treated me. For a long time, and into my adult life, I continued to hear that voice, and it would scream at me—not whisper—that I wasn’t good enough.
So, with my warped view on love, how was I supposed to believe Paul when he wrote that I am an EQUAL heir with Christ? I had absolutely no concept of that kind of love and no belief in it.
When I would read that verse, I’d read it with a chuckle and some weird “understanding” that I wasn’t really an equal heir with Christ, but that I was God’s daughter and he did love me, but just not quite as much as he loved Jesus. That was my belief, and I was content with it. Jesus could be the favorite, and I was uncharacteristically fine with second best.
Thankfully, I do (and have always believed) that God’s love is unconditional. I am so thankful that my love baggage never made that truth a lie.
In 2005, God laid adoption HEAVY on my heart. It became almost an obsession. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had always thought about adoption, but in ’05, I knew that God wanted me to adopt. The process was long and hard. It was full of ups and downs, excitement, and heartbreak. Having biological babies wasn’t easy for me: I struggled getting pregnant, and I lost three babies along the way. I was ready to dive in and follow God’s calling, and adopt, and it was hard!
What started as ‘you’ll have a baby girl from China by Christmas’ turned into years of waiting, crying, and my heart breaking. How on earth was it so hard to get a baby when there are 143 million orphans? I felt the heartbreak of “adoption miscarriages” overwhelm me. It was sad, but my desire for another child through adoption grew even stronger. . . .
In the Spring of 2007, God changed the direction of adoption, and I set my sights on Rwanda. A friend of a friend had a small orphanage, and she had too many babies. Rwanda was testing out international adoptions, and I pounced! In June, I received a picture of this sweet baby girl, and I put 100% of my energy and effort into getting to Rwanda to bring her home. She was my daughter, and I hadn’t even met her yet.
Gabby’s adoption story from when I saw the picture in June until she was in my arms at the end of October was a wild ride. There were so many hoops to jump through and so much paperwork and so many unknowns because only a small number of babies had been adopted out of Rwanda before her. I was blazing new trails, and I was a MAMA BEAR—all caps and do not mess with me.
In October, I felt God telling me to get on a plane NOW. My paperwork wasn’t finished in Rwanda, and the adoption was not officially approved, but I felt like I had to get on a plane at that moment. So I did. I booked flights to a continent I had never visited, all alone. I left Dax at the airport with so many tears streaming down my face that a TSA agent consoled me and handed me a box of Kleenex. They were tears of joy and anticipation, but mostly tears of sheer terror! What was I doing? I was heading to Africa, alone, to pick up this baby girl. My family was perfect. I had three wonderful kids. What was I doing?!?!? We weren’t even approved to bring her home.
But I got on that plane and went. My daughter was drawing me to her—that tiny six-month-old baby girl had a grip on my heart like nothing I had ever felt before, and I was going to get her if it was the last thing I ever did. That song we just sang said “I was found before I was lost, I was Yours before I was not. . . . and that part just wrecks me.” It does wreck me because I know that feeling all too well.
I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. (John 14:18)
I landed in Kigali after more than a day of traveling. I was exhausted and had no idea what I was getting myself into.
When I walked out of customs, my baby girl was waiting for me!!! They put her into my arms, and at that moment, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was my daughter and that I loved her equally as much as I loved Hays, Maggie, and Dax. And, I knew in that moment, in that divine moment, that God loved me just as much as He loves His Son, Jesus Christ. I loved Gabby with my entire being IMMEDIATELY.
‘I will be a true Father to you, and you will be my beloved sons and daughters,’ says the Lord Yahweh Almighty. (II Corinthians 6:18)
That was the draw of that tiny baby girl from around the world. I was not going to leave her.
I refused to leave her as an orphan. I ran (flew) to her. And God feels that same way about me, so much so that He sent his only Son to earth to die for me.
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)
Even in my own sin, despite knowing I would fail continually, God sent Christ to earth for me. That is beyond humbling.
Gabby’s story wasn’t roses before or after that picture in the airport. She was six months old and had never seen a white person, and I terrified her. For the next six hours, if I was holding her, she screamed out of fear and sadness (I imagine). If the guard at the house where I was staying would hold her (he was Rwandan), she was fine, but the minute he put her back into my arms, she would cry. Finally, she fell asleep in my arms, exhausted, and thankfully, when she woke up, she decided that I would do.
We all come to God’s family with baggage. We have hurt from relationships, and we have preconceived notions of God and of love, and preconceived notions about religion. We have images of love that are dripping with lies, like I did.
Gabby came to me as a baby girl who had been abandoned. (Talk about your baggage.)
Tiki came to me as a six-year-old boy who had seen abandonment and abuse and six years’ worth of things that I will never know about.
I came to God believing that love is only for the favorites and that love is conditional. I came to God believing lies about God’s love and about my own worth. I still come to God every day in a battle to get over those lies.
But while I was yet a sinner, He sent His only Son for me. He refused to leave me as an orphan. He pursued me relentlessly. I am co-heirs with Jesus, and I am the daughter of my Abba Father.
He loves me.
I love Gabby fiercely. I love her as she deals with the pain and confusion of abandonment. I love her as she asks the hard questions. I love her. She is my daughter just as much as Maggie is. I cannot imagine loving anyone more.
I love Tiki fiercely. He has PTSD as a result of the baggage he brings to our family…. the baggage I cannot even imagine. But I love him. He is my son. I rushed across the world for him, and I would take a bullet for him without thinking.
And nothing that those two kids, or any of my other children, will ever do could make me un-love them! We have experienced some significant ups and downs as a family, and a couple of my kids have made some terrible choices, but I still love them fiercely and delight in them. And if I, as an imperfect mother, can love that unconditionally, how much greater is my perfect Father’s love for me?
Look with wonder at the depth of the Father’s marvelous love that He has lavished on us! He has called us and made us His very own beloved children. . . . (I John 3:1a)
