***For adopted Christians***
Too many people walk around with the heavy weight of bitterness, or excuses for their behavior.
They say things like “Well you don’t understand” or “When I was little…..” and go on to tell me the sad story. Your right, I don’t understand. Everyone is different and is affected differently. But God understands.Blood Doesn’t Mean Everything
We can cry, and ache, and hurt. That is ok. But when we become
bitter, and let it consume us, this is not ok. No one has to be on earth long to experience pain.
Take a piece of my testimony for example, I was baby unwanted. I cried and ached for love just like any baby, but no one came. The one who was “supposed” to love me, didn’t want me. That small part right there stops so many other adopted people in their tracks.
They cannot get passed the fact that yes our birth parents screwed up! Or in few cases couldn’t take care of them. Fellow adoptees and other believers I have just one question for you.
How are we supposed to be the most effective for Christ when we are not allowing God to use those scars as our testimony? When we soak in the heartache of abandonment we are letting the Devil win that battle. I once heard a quote that says ” The Devil may win some battles, but God wins the war”
No more crying Children. We are men and women of Faith who can choose
to stare at life in the face fearless, because of Who has adopted us and comes to us when we cry.
Philippians 3 12-14 “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”
Romans 8:15 “The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.”‘