Do you remember being young and waiting in line to see if you were picked for a team of kickball or four square…. Or maybe it was for a particular position on a team. I have this distinct memory of being maybe 10 and playing girls softball. I wanted to be catcher soooooooo bad. I stood anxiously awaiting the coach to tell me where I would play. Now if you know me as an adult I can hear you laughing out loud. Or maybe just my husband is, as he pictures me playing softball. I wasn’t the best athlete then or now in these ball hitting games:) BUT I remember thinking if I was just chosen, it would be the BEST. And I was! I played catcher the entire season. By the end I hated playing catcher though because no one thinks to tell you when you are ten that playing catcher actually just means getting hit in the face a lot and running after balls no one can hit. I digress. The point being I think we all remember what it felt like to want to be chosen. Although there wasn’t great significance to me getting chosen for the position at age ten. The feeling, the angst, the longing to be chosen is and was such an important part of life.
We all long for this. As a kid it was to be chosen for a team. Or chosen for a part in the play. Or honestly just to be chosen as a friend. Now as an adult I long to be chosen as a friend. I long to be chosen over and over by my husband through the years of marriage. I long to be chosen to love the children I have and the ones I long for. I long to be chosen by God. Not because of anything I have done or have become. But simply because I am His and he is my creator. We all long to be CHOSEN. No matter who we are….
This is adoption. Adoption is about being chosen. It is NOT about being given away. It is NOT about not being loved. It is NOT about a momma who just gives away her baby. There are so many circumstances when it comes to adoption. But at the end of the day, a woman CHOSE to birth a child. A woman CHOSE to place their child into anothers arms (even if there were laws in place orchestrating that). And there was a family on the other end who was CHOSEN. And a baby who was CHOSEN to be theirs. It’s beyond beautiful, and messy, and entangled. But at the end of the day….CHOSEN is the best word for the entire process.
6.75 years ago a woman lovingly CHOSE us and CHOSE Keane to be ours. It is still one of the most Holy experiences of my life.
I remember getting the call he was here. We had to rush to jump on a plane. BUT wait the onsie I had so longingly CHOSEN for him to wear wasn’t here yet. It might seem silly but there were so many pieces of the story that we hadn’t been a part of. But we had experienced being CHOSEN and him being CHOSEN. So the sweet woman making it on etsy overnighted it to our hotel in Utah for free. She was just as thrilled for him to wear this CHOSEN onsie.
What is crazy is after Keane was born I have pictures of 4 more babes that came home through CAC that all wore the same onsie. I love it. I love that I have pics of all these little miracles who have worn this precious, longed for, wanted, CHOSEN little piece of clothing that held so much meaning.