Doors of North Africa...


I spent yesterday afternoon outside of a courtroom with a dear friend and his wife.

A year ago, they adopted a precious baby girl. They walked the mother through her pregnancy, and took care of her expenses. She gave birth to her third child from a third father. My friends cut the cord.

This adorable daughter was born and they began their life with her. She had many health problems in her first year, that if the circumstances had been different, probably would have claimed her life.

She has become part of the family, with siblings 7 and 11.

In the course of the pregnancy, the birth mother claimed not to know who the father was. She signed over all parental rights.

As the adoption progressed, the court ordered a paternity test. This brought about the discovery of the biological father. He was incarcerated.

His family wants the baby girl. I cannot blame them as I could not live easily knowing I had a child or grandchild with whom I had no relationship.

He appeared in court bound by the shackles of imprisonment. His spiritual jail seemed to supersede the physical one. He did not want his mother to see him this way. He had no choice. She looked very broken.

My friend anxiously glanced in his direction.

Once court began, as the adoptive parents, they were not allowed in the courtroom. We prayed continuously... for many hours.

The birth mom arrived pregnant with child number four, from a fourth father. The story she told my friends she would share in court had changed.

Her plan to side with the adoptive parents shifted as her incarcerated lover offered relationship. She was desperate for relationship. She bit. The bite would leave an indelible mark on the hearts of my friends.

Her testimony would now seek to point out that she and this man had intended all along to be "family."

The fact that she perjured herself, and that his testimony contradicted hers and that he portrayed her as a stripper, held promise for my friends.

Apart from Christ, promise, as it turns out, is sometimes a liar.

What was truly best for this child was less important than law. So many factors I will not include, weighed into this, at least from a logical perspective.

I do not doubt that the birth family will love this baby girl. I do not doubt that the adoptive family will love her. However, the uncertainty of her future has exponentially increased.

Socio-economic issues aside, she is to be returned to those who do not believe, have no real foundation in Truth, and seek love in the cloak of lust.

Lust is not a fabric with the strength to nurture the children of our culture.

My friends have their "daughter" for a few more days. They are in mourning. How does one mourn for a lost child, that they cannot recover, one they did everything right to keep and to bless and to seek to raise, one who is alive, but not them?

They can pray. They can try to establish further relationship. They can seek to have input on some level. None will replace the ache in their hearts of this being their daughter. The pain is searing.

Still, full of the love, they reached out and hugged the birth family, offered their love and support... they were Christ to them! Then had to retreat into the collapse of brokenness.

Did they save her life? Probably. Did they love her? Unconditionally. Do they still? without question!

How does one heal?

Taking one breath at a time, drenched in tears of prayer, and bathed in broken hearts crying out in needful chorus. He is the Healer.

For this precious one and many like her to truly have hope for the future, we each need to be spilling Jesus into the lives of those we meet everyday... even those who make us uncomfortable by their outer adornments and psychological bondage.


dad