Sally had gone through two heart surgeries in her short life. I talked with her parents, one of whom was almost always at Sally’s crib side. I learned that they had adopted Sally as a newborn even though they knew that there were significant medical risks ahead.
When the surgeries came, they did not change their minds about the adoption. Sally’s adoptive parents demonstrated their love to her by being almost constantly present in the hospital room, by talking to her, by bathing her, and by holding her. In years to come, Sally may experience various disabilities, but her parents give every indication that they will continue to love her in a way consistent with their initial
choice to adopt her.
I know another couple who adopted three special-needs children from India: one girl had polio in one leg and never walked until she was fitted with leg braces in the States. Another girl had surgery for a cleft palate, and the younger brother needs blood transfusions every three weeks.
All these moms and dads did not have to love and adopt the child they chose; they were not compelled to shoulder the extra burden of disabilities. I would have understood if they had said no. But they did not.
We may not want to admit it, but each of us is a special-needs child in our relationship to God. We may not have any significant disabilities in the eyes of this world, but we are often spiritually blind and sick, disobedient, and willful.
How can it be that God is there, always waiting, always loving, even when we are unlovable? The more we take our eyes off of ourselves, and put them on Jesus Christ, the better equipped we will be to accept His amazing love.
