Maybe it’s just me, but I’m sure we all see someone act a certain way, or do a specific thing that just irks us.
One time, back in high school (I say that because it makes me sound grown up, or maybe convince someone I’m old enough to take advice from) in my public speaking class, our teacher assigned us a project to voice our pet peeve. It quickly turned into a tiring of rants, ranging from “chewing gum like a cow” to “mouth breathing” and always ending in a long line of driving annoyances. My point being, it’s usually not that hard for us to think of these things, because they are those few things that trigger us without too much warning, yet much consequence, either with an outward explosion that effects everyone, or an inward explosion that only effects the eyebrows and possibly the trajectory of the edges of a once present smile. 

But to bring it back in, I heard a a poem and it spoke about the struggles of anxiety. Now, I wouldn’t consider this to be a pet peeve by any means, but it does fit in the category for me of something I don’t handle well. I know it’s very well an issue that plages plenty of lives around the earth, but from the outside looking in, it’s really hard for me to understand or sympathize because my understanding doesn’t compute with the needs/patience it requires to be the best person for someone who suffers with anxiety. 

I said all that to set a backdrop for this thought that went through my head:

“I could never see myself being able to marry someone who as severe anxiety,” to be followed by another thought, “I hope I don’t have any kids who suffer from anxiety” to be lead by another line of thought, “well, if it’s addressed while they’re young, hopefully it won’t be as bad when they get older” to “but what if I adopt like I’ve said I want to do?”

This question struck me, and I didn’t have any answer, as if the other answers to the previous questions were really very good, but I thought about this concept, while I was warming the water to get in the shower. Adoption is really an amazingly hard, and amazingly amazing thing! Taking a child in that has had possibly no prior personal experience or maybe even recollection of seeing a good family, much less feeling loved by someone who is choosing you. Not just someone who wanted a kid, but someone who wanted YOU. 

Having recently gone through some personal self-condemning and feeling absent and unworthy of God, I couldn’t help think about the statement that he has adopted us into his family. Knowing all of our junk, all of our dirt, and and all of our downfalls, He doesn’t look at our weakness, but speaks life into our strengths. He sees our potential. Honestly, the other day when I first had this thought didn’t change me that much, but as it marinates in my mind, it gets juicier and more flavorful, because no matter how much I get myself down, Jesus is always there, encouraging and lifting me up out of a feeling of darkness. 

This motivates me even deeper to love children and even adults who haven’t ever experienced love in action toward them. 

Because I am loved, I love.