Limited vs. Limitless

NOTE: I meant to post this a couple of months ago after the event I am talking about occurred; suffice it to say it took this long for me to make the time to sit down and do it.

Spent part of a Saturday a couple of months ago in a large room full of children (perhaps 50) available for adoption. The kids ranged in age from probably 2 to 16, of various ethnicities and combinations of ethnicities. As my wife and I wandered the room, engaging various children as opportunities arose, my heart broke for them. These are the fatherless of which the Bible speaks, which we the people of God are called to care for and about.

The ones that were really saddening were the older kids, the ones who had obviously attended events like this many times before; jaded was definitely a word that came to mind for several of them. For these kids, it was like they were protecting themselves from the pain of potentially having no one talk to them -- because they aren't one of the "cute little kids" anymore -- by putting up a front of disinterest, boredom, or even near-sullenness. Unfortunately, for much of the day these jaded ones were right -- very few potential families engaged the teenagers. It was difficult to watch, even as I realized that I was part of the problem too -- I wasn't engaging them either for the most part. So I'm indicting myself here as well and not just others.

But there was one boy that was a notable exception to the protective fronting. He was 16 years old, possibly the oldest available for adoption in the room. Rather than coming across as jaded, he seemed almost desperate. It was like he heard the ticking of the clock, the time running out before he ages out of the system as an unadopted orphan. Rather than waiting around for them to maybe (probably not) speak to him, he was taking the initiative and approaching families to engage of his own accord. He was very direct with his questions, such as (paraphrasing) "Are you willing to adopt a 16-year-old? Like me?". At the end of the afternoon, he even gave us the business card of his caseworker. Wow. I won't soon forget him.

But the thing that struck me most that day in regards to all of the kids, and one of the foremost thoughts on my mind as we were leaving, was my own limits. Every kid that we did and did not interact with in that room is precious to God. Every one of them, no matter how "screwed up" or "troubled" they are, deserves an earthly family and a fair shake at a "normal" future. And I enjoyed my time on at least some level with every single one of them with which we interacted. But, for most if not all of them, I will not get to be their forever dad. Even if we were financially and otherwise able, and allowed, to adopt every single kid that was there that day, the sheer inertia of the system would be such that we would run out of time to try and do so before many of them aged out and the chance was lost. It is just humanly impossible for my wife and me to adopt them all.

Which leads me to one of the other thoughts that was foremost on my mind as we were leaving that day: God can.

Thank God that He has no such limits when it comes to adopting humans into His family. All these years later, it still boggles my mind that He saw fit to adopt me. To be clear, it wasn't because there was anything special about me that made me deserving of adoption -- it was because it pleased Him to do so for His own glory. That's a tall order to live up to, and I try and fail every day to live in a way that would bring Him glory.

But back to adoption. As an old hymn says, "There's room at the Cross for you. Though millions have come, there's still room for one, yes there's room at the Cross for you." He has adopted so so many into His family, but He desires for ALL to become part of His family. But unlike my desire to adopt all of the orphans I encounter, He can actually DO it. And that is literally awesome and humbling. I serve a big, limitless God, Who is able to follow through perfectly on every promise He makes. "Whosoever comes" WILL be adopted into His family.

Praise God.