Even Me?

The faint shimmer of a tear formed in his eye.  His face was downcast with the strain of the last years, but the faint lines around his eyes revealed the wrinkled reminders of happier times, when he smiled hard enough that his eyes squinted and teared for laughing so hard.   He studied his hands and I could hear him trying to keep his voice from quivering.

"Even me?"

I sat across the room on the couch, with my legs tucked under me and a growing belly resting on my lap.  I ran my hand over the round bump, acknowledging the little kicks and wiggles reassuring me of the life still inside me.

"Even you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I was about seven months pregnant when my PawPaw and Uncle came into town for an unexpected visit.  I had been on bedrest and would remain that way for the duration of my pregnancy.  Friends and family took turns spending the day with me, Little Man and Big Sister, while the Hubs was at work, helping me care for them and the house since I was not supposed to be up and moving around.  My dad had taken the kids outside to enjoy some fresh air when my Uncle began to open up.

It was one of my favorite things about him.  He had such a wonderful sense of humor and could tell stories and joke with the best of them, but his heart was much like mine, searching for deeper conversation and connection when it could be found.   PawPaw sat in the matching chair beside him as we discussed life, hardships, and God.

He asked questions about the kids.  He had moved away around the time Big Sister was born, and so there was always much to catch up on.  Little Man was having a rough season.  Little Man has to work hard to maintain his behavior and emotions hour by hour.  His past trauma keeps him in a heightened state of anxiety and his diagnoses make it difficult for him to process situations.  The constant flurry of people in and out of the house was taking its toll on him and he struggled to regulate his emotions and eat regularly.  Parenting him is a tremendous blessing and joy, but there is much more intentional effort and sacrifice that comes with parenting kids from hard places than typically-developing biological children.

"Gosh.  That stress is going to kill you," he worried aloud.

"I know.  But it's ok.  He's worth it," I smiled.

I have tried for months to remember each part of our conversation that day.  I can remember bits and pieces, but one part stands out specifically.  As we swirled through varying topics covering Little Man, life struggles, and God, I can remember one moment clearly.  My uncle was walking through a rough time.  He told me how much he wanted things to be different.  He wondered how God could ever love him.  He had been baptized several years before, but life had been crushing and in this season, he felt he was drowning in the waves, grasping for His hand.  Much like I find myself frequently.  In my 28 years of life, I have learned that there really isn't anything new under the sun.  And all of us breathing have more in common than we sometimes think.

"God's love is beyond what we see here," I started, but as I looked out the window, I could see Little Man and Big Sister playing outside.  God had taught me some heavy truths during our adoption and I am always overwhelmed when I see them play out tangibly in front of me.

"You know well that God sent His Son, Jesus, to die in our place.  We cannot be united with God without Him giving up Jesus to pay the cost to redeem us."

Uncle shifted in his chair.  Flowery language was not going to drip a single drop of water on the fire burning inside of him.

"You were here when Big Sister was born."  He nodded.  "You know that that little girl has been my entire heart since even before she was born.  My entire life has revolved around her up until this moment.  I gave up a career I would have loved before I even got to start it to be able to spend my days with her."

I smiled at the image of Big Sister twirling around beside her swing set in the back yard.  "I have loved her more than anything."  She waved at me through the window.

"And then I saw the picture of Little Man."  I saw my uncle's eyes squint as he wondered what this had to do with anything we had been talking about.  "Little Man was so far away.  He did not know what love was.  And he was going to die without someone intervening."  Uncle saw Little Man's picture on the table.

"It was going to cost a lot to go get him.  Way more money than we had.  But just imagine, what if the cost had been Big Sister?  What if I would have had to let her go, in order to pursue Little Man?"

He puffed up his cheeks and let out a hard breath.

"Did I see Little Man's life worth sacrificing my own daughter's?  What would I have done?"

He said something along the lines of, "Good grief, Niece," in more colorful language ;) , and straightened in the chair, uncomfortable in the awkward conversation.

"That's what God did for us.  What He did when He looked out over mankind and knew He would make a way for us to be with Him.  He decided He would not even spare His own Son for our salvation."

"Even me?"

"Even you.  He didn't hesitate when He saw you.  He saw you in all of your pain and struggles.  And He said, 'Uncle is worth it.'  Not because of anything you have done, but because He loves you."

His tears fell freely now.

"And even more than that, Jesus is a lot more awesome that Big Sister.  He sacrificed a King.  He sacrificed Himself.  For you.  Your life.  Your eternity.  You were worth the Creator of the Universe sacrificing everything. "

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Adoption has taught me more lessons than I ever could have imagined.  More than I ever knew I needed to learn.  I am just a simple girl, spinning around the sun on this giant globe.  I have no outstanding talents.  I make accidental mistakes and I intentionally sin.  My influence on the world is mostly limited to the four walls of my home.  In the grand scheme of mankind's existence on earth, I will barely be a dot on the timeline.  But even so, I was worth His sacrifice.

Don't misunderstand.  This is not to puff us up.  Yes, we all have worth, but it is because HE says so.  Our worth doesn't come from our social status, our family, our bank account, our personality, our appearance, our knowledge, or anything else we can influence.  Our worth only comes from Him.  God's love and forgiveness should never be spoken of without the full picture.  He is the Prince of Peace, loving, gentle, and kind.  But the other side of that coin is a Righteous Judge who will condemn sin.   He came to make the way for salvation, but He also will come again.  I recently read a quote that said something along the lines of, "He may have come as a meek Babe in the manger, but next time, He's coming as the King on a white horse.  And He's going to war."

But I think that is probably the most wonderful thing about Him!  This magnificent, holy, powerful King, Who demands the respect of all of heaven's creatures and He came to free us.  He willingly stepped out of the glory of heaven's throne room and laid down His life in the most horrific way imaginable. 

His love is just as severe as His wrath.

This New Year, I hope we find the beauty of His adoption.  That we are the helpless, fragile beings chained to cribs of sin and death, and that this Fearsome Warrior Creator King laid down, not only his sword, but His very life, to make the way for our adoption as His sons and daughters.

I think of my Uncle's tears.  I feel my own streak my face as I type this.  I pray we all feel this same weight of His Love.  This Love that came for even us.  Even for you.

Even me.