One of the Most Beautiful Births I’ve Ever Witnessed

“You’re going to what?!” I believe this was my initial reaction (internally) several years ago when my sister said she wanted to adopt. And not an infant, a middle-school age boy, a couple of years younger than her youngest. It was something God was calling her to do, though, and I couldn’t argue with that. But I kind of thought she was crazy. I mean, most mothers are bittersweet about their last one leaving the nest, but don’t necessarily start backfilling.

My sister is sixteen years my senior, and although age kept us at a distance growing up, she’s now my best friend. One, two, three, four, my nephews entered the world, starting when I was five years old. They seem more like younger brothers. I love them each dearly, and have grown to enjoy getting to know them as they mature into young men. And speaking of growing, they’re all freakishly tall. They seem to be in a race to touch the sky. I think the tallest is upwards of 6′ 6″ now.

This family of rowdy, lively boys seemed so complete. I couldn’t imagine it any other way, until today. While I was skeptical of my sister’s efforts to adopt a child later in life (because, you know, I struggle raising TWO, let alone FIVE) I was wholeheartedly supportive. I showed up at the courthouse, a few minutes to spare, and took my seat on a hard wooden bench in the audience. Big, legal words were said. A few names were mispronounced, we all snickered. And unexpectedly, tears began to well in my eyes. This was so permanent, so final, so…beautiful. Here he was, this boy who was born into an unfortunate circumstance, now being born again into the most fortunate of circumstances. A family of rowdy, lively boys to surround him and accept him and call him “brother.” A mother and father who’d taken an oath to care for him and raise him well and call him “son.”

Adoption isn’t always pretty, and it isn’t always easy. Families still have struggles, and transition takes time and patience and love. We’ve all been adopted into God’s family, and to reach out and extend that opportunity to others, is, well, beautiful. My sister brought her mission to adopt to fruition, and I have no doubt she will bear good fruit. Once upon a time, I thought she was crazy, but now I see she’s one of the few people I know with their head, and heart, screwed on right. I’m blessed to call her sister, and blessed to call this child “nephew.”