adoption

Sanctity of Life for All of Life

SHEA PATRICK | CONTRIBUTOR Many years ago, I posted on Facebook that I was a “one-issue voter.” I did so as a public declaration of my pro-life stance and that a candidate’s position on abortion was my only consideration in determining whether or not I would vote for them. In the years since that post, I have given much thought to what it means to be pro-life. Is being pro-life simply being anti-abortion, or does it mean more? Please don’t misunderstand what I’m saying—yes, we must be anti-abortion and advocate for saving the lives of the unborn. It is that and more. One of the phrases I’ve heard used is that Christians ought to be pro-life from “womb to tomb.” A Call to Care Our reference point as we consider these issues starts with the giver of life in Genesis. God created man in his own image and pronounced him good. “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” (Gen. 1:27). Throughout the Old Testament, we see that many of the laws given to God’s people concerned that of life, health, and wholeness. God gave laws that cared for widows and orphans (Exo. 22:22) and provided for the poor and one’s neighbors (Exo. 25:26). In Exodus 23, he even shows fatherly care for those outside the nation of Israel. Then Jesus steps on the scene in the New Testament. He shows his concern not for religious rules and compliance but for life and flourishing, healing those with diseases and resurrecting the dead. He shows compassion and mercy to those typically on the margins– a leper and a Roman centurion’s servant (Matt. 8), the demon-possessed (Luke 4:35), a woman with a disability that would keep her from the temple (Luke 8:43-48), and even a woman caught in adultery (John 8). How can believers show their concern for life and flourishing as well? The church can be the hands and feet of Jesus, showing biblical love and care for the hurting in very practical and intentional ways. Consider these ideas: The Church as the Hands and Feet of Christ...

Sanctity of Life for All of LifeChristina Fox2024-02-05T19:03:39+00:00

A Glorious Inheritance

NIKKI BONHAM | GUEST Our family is in the middle of a move. Again. But only across town this time. The house we’ve been living in had been sitting empty for years when we moved in, and it had major maintenance issues, which we won’t miss. The new house was recently built, so I’m thankful to leave behind the leaky pipes, mold, and broken floors. But my favorite part of the new place is the view. It overlooks the Colombian countryside, and I am convinced that a few minutes on the back porch with a strong cup of Colombian coffee will cure almost anything that ails you. But apart from the view, the biggest difference between the two has been the shift from living in a house that had been left empty and deteriorating to one where every detail of the construction and maintenance has been painstakingly considered. Our previous landlord had been ready to rid himself of the burden for years. Our new landlord built the house himself and put his literal blood, sweat, and tears into its completion. The difference is striking. And there’s only one reason for it; the new landlord is guarding and maintaining his own inheritance. Someone Else’s Inheritance On our first visit to the house, the owner proudly pointed out each tiny detail. My husband commented, “I can tell that your whole heart has gone into this project.” “Well, it’s my father’s land,” the owner told us, “But he let me build on it now. He’s already promised me this portion. I’ve given all I have to this house. But it’s our future, so it’s worth it.” Moving into a home that is someone else’s literal inheritance comes with a little extra pressure, especially with a house full of boys. Every day I think, “There is no way we are giving this house back in the same condition we received it.” But mostly, it feels like yet another gospel image the Lord has built around me for me to live in (literally, this time!) that lifts my eyes to the greater reality of what He is doing on an eternal scale. As I sit on this porch and drink my coffee in someone else’s future inheritance, I am reminded of the covenant promises of inheritance that are already mine in Christ...

A Glorious InheritanceChristina Fox2023-12-18T15:03:59+00:00

A Worthy Inheritance

NIKKI BONHAM | GUEST “If the Lord takes me before I’m old, I hope that our boys will still carry with them a love for old hymns, good books, adoption, missions, the beauty of marriage, and a delight in God’s Word. At least those things,” I said to my husband as we sat under the twinkly lights on our patio. He sat silent for a moment, thoughtful. “I think that’s a worthy inheritance,” he replied. A Significant Heritage We were fresh off a trip back to the US for my father’s funeral after his unexpected and sudden passing, and these types of conversations were frequent. My dad had died young at the age of 63, and only 10 days before I was due to see him again. When you live a continent away, those 10 days are a hard pill to swallow, and I was still deep in processing all the fresh grief. Heavier pieces of it would come in waves, and one of the bigger ones that kept rolling in and out of my mind was the idea of heritage. What are the pieces of him that I have inherited, that I carry on and pass along to my children? How did my father’s influence mark me as his daughter? What are the values and preferences that he unknowingly formed in me as he loved me for all those years? What do I love, just because he also loved it? Just because he loved me? The significance of that heritage grows even deeper as I consider that he wasn’t my biological father; I don’t carry his blood in my veins, but I have carried his name and the privilege of being called his daughter for all but the first few years of my life. Through the way the Lord shaped the very structure of my family, He built a gospel image around me for me to live in. After he died, I sat in his closet, surrounded by all his things, and carefully chose small mementos that I could pack inside my suitcase to take back to Colombia with me. I looked at each little knick-knack on his dresser, the same ones that were there from when I was a little girl, and I remembered the stories tied to them. Most of them came from his own father and grandfather. They were stories that I was grafted into, a heritage and shared history that somehow became fully mine....

A Worthy InheritanceChristina Fox2023-10-12T15:20:34+00:00

We Are Family: Finding Community in the Local Church

REBECCA TAYLOR|GUEST I have been told time and time again that church is supposed to be like a family. Being a pastor’s daughter and now a pastor’s wife, I see the metaphor play itself out in church relationships. However, I often feel lost when I enter church. Who will I sit next to? Who gets me? Which community group or Bible study is the right one for me? I think many of us can relate to the desire to “find our group” or “find our person” when entering the doors of the church. For many years, this was my goal. But this past year, my eyes opened to a new way of viewing things. I now realize that if church is supposed to be like family, then we already belong. This shouldn’t sound groundbreaking, but it was for me. I have worked so hard, for so long, to try and feel “attached” to a group or church. This year, I have accepted that I am free to connect, instead of looking for a clinging attachment...

We Are Family: Finding Community in the Local ChurchChristina Fox2023-03-24T17:48:24+00:00

Trusting God in the Foster Care Journey

SHEA PATRICK|GUEST I have a confession to make. Sometimes when I start a new book, I immediately turn to the end of the story to see what is going to happen. In the same vein, I often read spoilers to know what is going to happen in a television show I am watching. I want to protect myself from being surprised by a bad ending. My desire to know the end before I even start is constantly challenged by our involvement in foster care. Our family has had multiple children in and out of our home, and there is only one thing that you can count on with foster care: you have no idea what is going to happen when the Department of Social Services (DSS) is involved. Many aspects of our family life— where we live, what kind of trips we can take— are subject to the whim of a court that does not even know our family. For someone who likes to be in control and make plans, not knowing the future can be a nightmare. I am learning I can put my trust in one sure thing: God. Trusting God in the Beginning When we take in a foster child, it is often on short notice. The state (DSS) calls and tells us a case worker is on the way with a child. Many times, the grief the child feels is overwhelming and heartbreaking. There have been times when our other children woke up in the morning with a new child in the house who was not there the night before. It disrupts family patterns and routines. Immediately, I jump into planning mode, arranging doctor visits, school registrations, counseling, and other services. I secure clothing and other needed items. These plans are difficult to make when I don’t know how long a child will be with us. It’s overwhelming to know where to begin. Often, I return to a verse in 2 Chronicles: “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (v. 12). The Lord lifts my eyes from the craziness of the circumstances and walks with me through the next steps He would have us to take. Trusting God in the Middle Often in foster cases, the child’s birth family is still involved. DSS schedules visits for the child to visit with parents and siblings. When we first began fostering, I admit things were very black and white for me. I assumed that because these parents had children in the system, they must be “bad parents.” The more that we have been involved in foster care, the more I have seen how this is not true. As we have gotten to know the child’s biological parents, we often see how a bad decision or a string of bad decisions have ramifications for everyone. God enabled us to build relationships and show compassion to those whose children we care for— to honor their birth families and existing relationships. It has been humbling to see how the brokenness in other families often mirrors the brokenness in my own, creating common ground. Involvement in another family’s story can be messy, but we find time and time again that “the Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Ps. 34:18)...

Trusting God in the Foster Care JourneyChristina Fox2023-03-24T18:13:12+00:00

Consider Your Sonship

SUE HARRIS|CONTRIBUTOR A friend of mine married a guy named Jerome who was raised in Switzerland but had lived a few years in Thailand as a missionary. It was always fascinating to talk with him about church, missions, and his cross-cultural experiences. Often, we don’t realize that our normal isn’t normal until someone from the outside is able to gently speak into what we say and do. One day, Jerome and I sat down for a chat after church. I asked him, “Jerome, now that you live in the US, what stands out to you as different in our churches compared to yours in Switzerland or even in Thailand?” He reclined in his chair and patiently responded. I could tell that he was working to be both frank and kind. He was slow to speak when I reminded him that I asked him because I wanted an honest answer. “Well, I have noticed something. It seems that many churches in America I’ve attended sing and preach significantly about our sin, which is appropriate and true: we are sinners and totally depraved, in desperate need of a Savior. But we’re also sons of God, adopted by the Father and there’s great power in that.” Jerome stated something so simple and, I think, so fascinating: For those of us who are in Christ…we are sons of God. There’s great power in that declaration. I spend a lot more time contemplating my depravity than I do my sonship. I spend a lot more time contemplating my sanctification than my sonship. I spend a lot more time contemplating that I am the bride of Christ than my sonship. All of these truths deserve my contemplation, but it seems more difficult for me to consider my sonship...

Consider Your SonshipChristina Fox2023-03-24T18:16:57+00:00

A Father With No Regrets

BARBARANNE KELLY|CONTRIBUTOR My husband is a strong man. But, as our five children well know, he’s also a sentimental softie when we reach certain milestones. With each graduation, each moving out, and each wedding, there comes a moment when Jim will cry. Whether it be a speech or a toast or a quiet moment hugging goodbye, their big, strong father will break down in tears. This spring and summer, our youngest child graduated from college, will move to Austin to begin his new job, and marry his childhood sweetheart. It’s the Great Sentimental Milestone Trifecta. We’ll need tissues. Lots of them. Jim’s tears spring from a deep well of love for our children. There are, however, tributaries of regret which flow through his heart. Opportunities missed, unfulfilled plans, whispers of inadequacy—did he do enough? Did he prepare them to go out and live in this world? Indeed, can any earthly father do enough? Among the many word-pictures in scripture given to us to help us understand God, “Father” stands out. The first person of the Godhead isn't only the Father to Christ, his eternal Son, but throughout scripture he calls himself Father to those he draws to himself, his adopted children. Through the prophet Hosea, God speaks these sweetly paternal words to Israel: When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. . . . . it was I who taught Ephraim to walk; I took them up by their arms, . . . . I led them with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws, and I bent down to them and fed them. (Hosea 11:1, 3, 4) A Father With No Regrets Even though no earthly father can live up to the perfections of our heavenly Father, we still recognize in these tender passages the heart that beats in the chest of so many fathers we know and love. The imperfect love of our fathers points us to the perfect love of our heavenly Father, who will never weep for opportunities missed or hold regrets that he didn’t do enough for his beloved children...

A Father With No RegretsChristina Fox2023-03-24T18:19:20+00:00

Three Things Foster Parents Want You To Know

SHEA PATRICK|GUEST My family has been fostering for the last eight years now, and we have adopted two children out of foster care. I will be the first to tell you that I’m not an expert, nor do I have some official badge that allows me to speak on behalf of all foster parents. Every family’s situation and experience are vastly different. However, as I have been in foster parent groups or interacted with other parents who foster, I have heard common themes. I’ve heard similar stories. I’ve heard foster parents say things that the church needs to hear. Three Things Foster Parents Want You to Know We are not “good people.” This statement is one of the things that I most often hear when people find out that we are foster parents. While it is a very sincere sentiment, it is not correct. In fact, fostering many times reveals more sin in my own heart — just like marriage and the parenting of biological children does. It is a truly sanctifying experience. We are sinners in need of a Savior just like the children that come into our home. We are not THE Savior and not THEIR Savior. Fostering is entering into brokenness, knowing that we are all broken by the effects of the Fall and our own sin. In fact, fostering is choosing to step into someone’s brokenness. Foster and adoption care is counter cultural in that you are choosing something that will break your heart and choosing not to protect yourself. Fostering is pointing these children to the only hope that any of us have in this life — Jesus Christ. So why do we do it? Because we know that Jesus will show up in power in these broken places, even as we seek to be the hands and feet of Jesus to these children (Matthew 25:40). We get attached (and that is a healthy thing.)...

Three Things Foster Parents Want You To KnowChristina Fox2023-03-24T18:20:22+00:00

A Letter to My Daughter’s Birth Mother

In a world of seven and a half billion people, it seems impossible that my words will ever find you. Still, they've been on my heart for years now and today I feel compelled to send them out wherever they may go. Maybe they will find someone else who needs to hear them, or maybe, the same sovereign hand that brought a precious baby to me will bring these words back to the one who bore her. So I send them out and trust that God will do with them whatever He sees fit. You have sent out and trusted in far more unimaginable and enormous ways than I can ever comprehend.This is why I write. She is playing on the floor beside me, the one who has your eyes and your smile, and your laugh. I don't know your name, and you don't know mine, but those small pieces of you I do know—I know them so very well. They are memorized like a piece of my own heart now.You must be so beautiful, because she is. My husband sometimes says that there is an empty seat at our table, meaning maybe there is still another child out there for our family. He does this to be funny, in truth. But I admit to sometimes noticing that empty chair. Except it's not a child who is missing, in my mind. No matter how much she smiles, your empty chair in her world will always be there.Loss is like a haunting. It's a vital cord being cut, the ends left loose, never to be retied again this side of eternity. That cord searches for its other end nevertheless, with a gaping openness where there should be closure. Sometimes it looks like seeing a face in a crowd that isn't there. I remember searching for my own mother's face when she left this earth too early, and I have to wonder: are you on the other side of the world today haunted by the absence of a little girl? Do you see an empty chair too and wonder?...

A Letter to My Daughter’s Birth MotherChristina Fox2022-05-07T23:18:43+00:00

Adoption, Visas, and Resting in the Tension of God’s Call

Last week, four of us gathered as elders’ wives to pray for our growing church-plant and our husbands. My friend, Susan, had news. She had officially registered to adopt! I felt my stomach flip. An unfamiliar mixture of joy and bitterness clouded my congratulations. I tried to shake it off, but I realized I felt (perhaps) how a woman who has been unsuccessfully trying to conceive feels when her friend announces a pregnancy. I wanted to be happy— I am happy— but a gnawing jealousy arose. My family and I are planting a church in a “security-sensitive” country. This past year, two of our team families were deported and our own visa was put on hold (and still is). The anti-foreigner (especially “anti-foreign religion”) government has been sniffing out suspicious activity and deporting at will. It is not a stretch to say we could be asked to leave tomorrow. At the beginning of 2018, before all the unhappy deportations started, my husband and I decided we were going to pursue adoption. A new law made it possible for foreigners to adopt, as long as the child was disabled in some way. We waited for the allotted two weeks to get our visa approved so we could start the adoption process. Two weeks turned into months, a year, and now 14 months. We continue to wait for the government to give us official permission to stay here.

Adoption, Visas, and Resting in the Tension of God’s CallChristina Fox2022-05-07T23:40:50+00:00