“Ye
have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.”
I understand some adopted children have a problem with not
knowing their real parents, and this I understand. But personally, as an
adopted child, I have no such difficulty; I know my Original Parents and want
nothing whatsoever to do with them. They sold me into the house of bondage, and
were responsible for the shameful deformity I’ll carry with me throughout this
life.
But I am glad to say I am now happy, content, and I think fairly
well-adjusted, considering my first state. O, how well I remember being lined
up with the other urchins, all cleaned-up and in their nice clothes, standing
tall and straight, hoping to impress. And there I was, at the end of the line
in my wheelchair, crippled, and in my filthy rags.
All my peers were waiting with bated breath, anticipating the
kind looking man stopping by them with a smile of approval. But I had no such
expectation. I was very conscious of the fact there was nothing about me, an
untainted MAN such as I beheld, would desire to call His son. But miracles of
miracles! as He stood over me, looking down with eyes full of tears and
compassion, He uttered three words that will remain with me throughout
eternity, “I choose him.”
And what do I call the parent who adopted me? I refer to Him as,
“MY HEAVENLY FATHER!”
Richard. D. Sandlin
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