A son to whom I didn't give birth.
A son who entered our home as a foster placement when he was 3 1/2 weeks old.
A son who is hilarious, spunky, sweet, and truly picked by God to be our son.
A son who will someday have questions about his birthparents. Who will wonder why he didn't leave the hospital with his mom after his birth. Who will wonder why he lived with two different relatives before he came to live with us.
Will my little boy be able to grasp that our saying "yes" far outweighs all the "no's" in his life? Will he think his birth mom should've tried harder & fought more for him? Will he grow to hate the court system?
Within all the questions and "what-ifs" one thing is clear: MY JOB IS TO PRAY.
Pray this little boy will know how very much we love him. That we--his family--practically forget he's adopted.
Pray I can explain to my son that his birth mom--out of her love for him--voluntarily chose for us to become his forever family, because we could provide for him in ways she could not.
Pray he will know that his relatives--out of their compassion for him--each took him into their homes, yet sadly had to say "no" due to finances and other circumstances.
Pray he will see that the "the system" is a group of people who--out of their concern for him--made safety, security, and stability their top priorities.
And my biggest prayer? That I can teach my son not only how much God loves him, but that God has amazing things in store for him!
Eighteen days from now, my youngest son turns 2.
And I will thank God for one of the greatest gifts I've been given.
Happy Birthday, Charlie! I love you!