It was one of the worst days of my young life. As my wife and I were driving the hour-ride home, only a few words were spoken between us. Our hearts were as hollow as the backseat; we were in complete shock. After a long labor and a long two days, the little girl we had set our hearts on, months ago, was not coming home with us. The birthmother decided to parent.
There were so many layers of pain in this whole event that words cannot adequately convey the emotions I felt. One moment my wife and I were basking in the glory of bonding with this beautiful little baby, and the next we were mourning the loss of her.
As we returned to our hotel and began to pack our things, the tears streaming down my wife’s face cut to my heart. Not only was I bearing the weight of my own loss, but the weight of my wife’s loss as well. As a husband, I had failed to provide what my wife and I so longed for. As we left, we drove by the hospital that only hours ago brought us so much joy, but now only struck a chord of emptiness and failure within us.
We are confident that just as we were waiting on the other side of the pain of the cross, so too, our child is waiting for us on the other side of the pain of a failed adoption.
On the seemingly endless drive home, I didn’t think that the emotions I felt could be any worse than at that moment. But the small part of me that was still thinking rationally knew that this moment was not the climax of pain; more would have to be endured. The peak of our pain was waiting for us to get home: our two sons. We knew that we would have to explain to them why we had returned the same way we left—empty-handed. Our youngest we were not so worried about; at only age two, he didn’t have much awareness of what we had left for in the first place. But our 4-year-old was prepared and fully expecting us to return with a baby sister in hand.
Despite anticipating the conversation we would have to have with our oldest, our hearts were still not prepared for the difficulty of walking with him through this loss. Though there was great pain in experiencing my own loss and watching my wife mourn as well, the apex was when I sat clinging to my weeping 4-year-old son. It was at this moment that God graciously allowed me to feel the cost that comes with adoption.
My wife and I decided to adopt largely because we understood and experienced the glory of God’s adoption of us and desired to display that gospel love to a child in need. We understood the cost that was involved, but we hadn’t thought we would have to pay as much as was now being required of us.
As we walked through this failed adoption, God graciously allowed us to understand and feel that adoption is costly. When the pain was the deepest, and the cost was the greatest, God began to reveal gospel grace to our hearts. As I held my son, feeling the cost of adoption, my mind began to think about the cost that was necessary for God to adopt me into his family. The Father did not have to explain the cost of adoption to his Son, he had to have him crucified. The Father did not have to watch his Son mourn loss, he had to watch him die. The Father did not have to hold his weeping Son, he had to turn away from him. All of this and much more were endured to adopt me.
Recognizing these truths has done two important things for us. First, through revealing the gospel to us in our deepest pain, God is giving us grace as we walk the road he has laid down for us, and this gives us much joy. We know that this event could have led us to despair and bitterness, but God allowed it to deepen our understanding and appreciation of the gospel.
Second, through revealing the cost of our adoption, God has given us much hope for the future. As we processed our loss, there were moments that my wife and I questioned whether or not we are supposed to adopt. But by allowing us to realize what it cost him to adopt us, God showed us that we should expect the road to bringing our child home to be costly as well. We are confident that just as we were waiting on the other side of the pain of the cross, so too, our child is waiting for us on the other side of the pain of a failed adoption.
Recognizing that our adoption by God was costly for him does not remove all of the pain of our journey, but it has confirmed to us his promise that he is with us through it all. It is in this promise that our souls find rest and peace.
I rest in you; abide with me
Until our trials and suffering
Give way to final victory
Be glorified today. *
* “A Christian’s Daily Prayer” words and music by Dave Fournier, Jordan Kauflin, Matt Merker
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