abba

My daughter was almost three before I first laid eyes on her. I'd gone to the home of a new friend to swap stories and get acquainted. Not long into our talk, Kari said, "Wanna take a peek at my new foster daughter?" I did, so we tiptoed upstairs and to the last door on the right. When the light from the hall burst into her room and over her little toddler bed, Tera lifted a head full of blonde curls and turned mischievous eyes toward me.

"Hey! You're supposed to be asleep," Kari said, but there was a smile in her voice.

I reached out and touched Tera's head, and the moment I felt her hair beneath my fingers, I thought, Lord, I would love for this to be my daughter. My reaction startled me. After thirteen failed adoptions, Dave and I had concluded that God was saying no to another child. We'd agreed not to try again.

But apparently God had not said no. Doors opened. After a few pounds of paperwork and a few months of classes and visits from social workers, we got our foster adopt license. Two other families expressed interest in taking Tera, but the state chose us.

In all that time, she never knew how hard we worked to ready ourselves and our home for her. She didn’t know about the hour I spent at the home improvement store debating between the bunny border and the one with the roses, wondering which one she’d like best. I settled for the bunnies--but worried all the way home that I'd made the wrong choice. She didn't know that.

Nor did she know how much my heart hurt each time I visited and she called me “Shannon.” I felt a desperate longing to be “Mommy.”

We were Tera's foster parents for fourteen months before we stood in a court and heard a judge declare us to be a permanent family. In Tera's eyes, it didn't happen with the drop of a gavel. It took her awhile to believe we were her family. And it was a long time before I stopped being “Shannon.” But I'll never forget the moment she slipped me a shy smile and whispered, “Mommy.” It was worth the wait.

Sometimes the Lord waits a long time for his child to realize he’s not just God, Creator, and Savior--he's also Abba. He's Father.

But he's willing to wait too.

“But you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, ‘Abba! Father!’” Romans 8:15 (NASV)