What would I say?

Adopted twice.

Baptized twice.

Both effective.

So I just got done watching a video by Mark Schultz explaining the significance behind his song "Everything to Me." Yikes. His story hit close to home in that I am adopted as well.

I have often thought about the circumstances that surrounded my adoption. It is easy for me to conjure up different scenarios as to why, for some reason, my biological parents could not or would not keep me for themselves. Were they young college lovers who indulged in a night of passion and wound up with more then they bargained for? (That is my favorite one by the way.) Was I the product of a criminal act forced upon my biological mother? (An entirely different feeling about that one.) Or am I actually a mixture of the proper ingredients in a test tube? (Far fetched but interesting to say the least. Might explain my fear of getting trapped in a big PVC pipe.)

I've never had a problem with being adopted. Both my sister and I were adopted at birth. She found her biological mother and who her bio-mother said the father was but he denied it was him. Nice.

For me, truthfully, I really haven't thought that much about it. I guess I have the curiosity I mentioned above regarding the circumstances but I have never felt that my life was missing anything because I didn't have that relationship with my biological parents. Some people win the lottery but I was blessed with something beyond "luck" like that. My mom and dad, not to mention my extended family, are just plain good people. They aren't people I would hang around because I had to, they are people I hang around because I want to. And I love them.

As far as growing up feeling "adopted" I never experienced that. I suppose that isn't necessarily the case in all adoptions. I remember talking with a gal at seminary who was also adopted. We shared our stories together and at one point she stated, "For you, the only one who knew you were adopted was you and your family and anyone you chose to tell. For me, it was a little different." I am white and adopted by a white family. She is Asian and adopted by a white family. She made a good point.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this tonight. I know that one day I will find out "the rest of the story" and it makes me nervous, excited, curious, and somewhat emotional. For me there is a fine balance with this. I would never want my mom and dad to feel that anything was missing from my life because quite honestly there isn't. My motivation would be purely out of a desire to express my feelings of gratitude and thanks for the decision she or they made. But really, how do you say thank you for such a huge gift? It seems terribly insufficient to simply say that I would just say "thanks." I guess it is one of those things that you think you may know how you would act or what you would say but until it happens you don't really know. Being the cry-baby I am I would probably not be able to say anything but simply let my tears express the difference that decision made for me.

Honestly, I wasn't expecting to go here tonight. Today was ok. Kinda blah. Slippery and icey, grey and dismal. People dealing with tough issues in their life. But watching Mark's story and then the video of the song has given me a lot to think about and definitely with overwhelming gratitude in my heart. When God talks about adopting us into his family it takes on more meaning for me in that I have a tangible picture of that through my situation. The sacrifice made by my biological parent(s) gave me the chance for a new life. I'm sure that some people, like Mark did initially, view their adoption as rejection or a "giving up" of them to strangers. I choose to see it as an act of love and sacrifice and for that I am humbled, thankful, and speechless. I guess the proper response is to live in such a way that honors the life I was given and not take for granted each breath I am gifted each day.