Adoption Through A Mother’s Eyes

In this video, my husband talks about the adoption of our son and how that has taught him to see all in Christ as sons and daughters. I wanted to expound on this and share more on how we’ve seen God’s grace through the adoption of our son:


A little over a year ago, we brought home our new 18-month-old son, a toddler from half a world away. In the months since, we have cared for him, loved on him, and trained him. And every day when I see life through his eyes, I have a deeper since of my adoption in Christ.

Our adoption process started in 2008 and took a circuitous four years. In those days when I doubted it would ever happen, a dear friend attempted to encourage this 40-something me that perhaps the child wasn’t born yet—and it turned out he wasn’t. We chose to adopt him years before he was even born, just as God chose me before the foundation of the world (Eph. 1:4).


These days when my son and I are in the grocery store, heads turn for several reasons. Either he’s unhappy and quite vocal about it, or others are perplexed how a white gal could have a baby boy that dark. We don’t look alike; we are an unlikely family. God’s choice to save me may seem strange and unlikely to the world but it affirms his glorious and active role in my salvation. He chooses the foolish to shame the wise (1 Cor. 1:27).

Our son has a new name and identity. Although he will always be African, his adoption into our family means he will instinctively take on our nature. He is in our family now, which means that he will identify with all those things that mean being a Turner including football, Texas, and world events. Adopted in God’s family, I have a new name: child of God. I also have a new identity: adopted in Christ.


When we first met our son, he spoke three words and one of them was baba (“daddy,” in Amharic). He never knew his biological daddy but he was looking for him, ready and willing to call on a father. I now better comprehend that since the Fall in Eden (Gen. 3), we are all looking for that missing Father. Thankfully, Jesus reunites me with him (Eph. 2:18).

Nearly 14 months later, our son still has an occasional fitful night and is unsettled when we sleep in new places on vacations. In those moments, he forgets he is with us forever and safe. Although Africa may be a distant memory, his little mind struggles to comprehend the depth of our love. Likewise, I can at times be unsure I am really home, and Paul prays that I will comprehend the expansive dimensions of Christ’s love for me (Eph. 3:18).


Our little man still panics when someone is eating and he is not. He will muscle his way in a group of kids to get what he needs. It will take years for the instincts of self-preservation to abate. He doesn’t have to fight to be fed anymore, to be noticed, or to be comforted. Likewise, I forget that in Jesus I am safe. My eternity is assured. I am forgiven, loved, and redeemed. I am sealed with the Holy Spirit as a guarantee of my eternal future and my identity in Jesus is safe and secure (Eph. 1:13–14).

Like most kids, our son has outbursts of sin and then heavy remorse. The seeds of conviction are planted and beginning to sprout. Slowly, he is beginning to imitate us and our conduct. Paul writes that I should imitate God as a beloved child (Eph. 5:1) and walk as a child of light (v. 8).


When we end prayers with “In Jesus’ name,” our toddler boy pipes in “Amen!” He knows the word “Hallelujah” and during worship at church, he frequently points at the cross on the stage and says “Jesus.” Already at the tender age of two, God is calling him and his heart is so soft to it. It makes perfect sense. God rescued our son from a life of fatherlessness and planted him in our home. His adoption into our family and my adoption into God’s family is, “according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace”!

This post is republished material from Mars Hill Church for teaching and archive purposes only.