What-will-my-son-think mode.

Adoption is obviously a big deal around our house.

I mean, everyone who lives here has been adopted at one point or another.  Some of us by our heavenly Father.  Others by an earthly Father.

Either way.  We're all the same.  And different, too.  But mostly the same.

I'm blogging at 12:37am on a Monday night when I should be sleeping because of adoption. 

As the self-appointed adoption advocate at our new church, I was asked to look through videos to show at church on Sunday.

Sunday is Orphan Sunday.

But I've moved past the what-will-make-them-cry-and-stir-their-hearts-into-adoption mode and into what-will-my-son-think mode.

Because ultimately he's the only one that matters.

One son will be excited and talk about all those kids he saw on the video that are "brown like me".  Because he is 5.  And the world is exciting and fun and as long as he gets a doughnut, it was a good day at church.

The other one will ponder what he sees and hears.  He will watch carefully, scrunch up his face and then look for our reactions.  Then those brilliantly smart wheels in his little brown head will start to turn.  He may ask questions.  He may not. 

Most likely not.

This is the child who wanted to know where he would go when we ran out of money to take care of him.  Because that was a real fear for him.  This is the child who was terrified he would have to go back to Ethiopia.  So he refused to talk about it.  This is the child who told me he wants to be vanilla like me.  And have straight hair like daddy.  This is the child who still fights to get to the front of any line because he lived for so many years in a survival-of-the-fittest world.  If you weren't first, you didn't eat.  If you weren't first, you didn't play.

Sunday is Orphan Sunday.

We don't really use the word orphan around here.  Mainly because no orphans live here.  And my kids aren't "the least of these" because our God had big plans for Nuredin and Edaso.  Go ahead and take 2 (or 3 if you want to jump the gun) off that 147 million orphans in the world stat.

I have to look at this Sunday through his eyes.  Because he's the one that matters.

Even though I want you all to be terribly convicted, bust into tears and rush to emotionally fill out the first adoption application you can get your hands on, it would probably be easier for me if we just showed a video about fluffy puppies and butterflies and sunny skies.

Watching these videos remind me of what the boys life could have been.  And no doubt will remind Charlie as well.

But I'm prepared. 

Dear Jesus, Thank you for allowing us the blessing of adoption.  Thank you for hand-picking our family and placing us all together.  Thank you for Charlie and Sam.  Protect their little hearts.  And draw them close to you soon so they can experience Your adoption as children of their heavenly Father!