You are loved.
You are seen.
You are prayed for.
You are included.
You are a gift.
You are a member of this family.
You are unique and special, yet melted into our whole.
You belong, my child.
Our last name is yours.
Our home is yours.
Our food is yours.
Our trampoline is yours.
Our hearts are yours.
Our books are yours.
Our time is yours.
You belong, my child.
Our plans will always include you.
Our prayers will always include you.
Our toothbrush cup will always include a toothbrush for you.
Our van will always include a car seat for you.
Our pantry will always include your favorite cereal.
Our frames will always include photos of you.
You belong, my child.
There is a daddy’s hand for you to hold.
There is space on the rug for your sleeping bag on movie night.
There is a seat at the kitchen table for you.
There is food in our fridge bought with you in mind.
There is a backpack hook just for you.
There is a branch for you on our family tree.
There is room in this momma’s heart for you.
You belong, my child.
You have a father who will always tuck covers around you and kiss your forehead goodnight.
You have siblings who don’t care much about the term “blood relations”.
You have a story that was written into ours, and ours into yours.
You have parents so grateful to be parenting you.
You have siblings who love building blanket forts with you.
You belong, my child.
As your dreams start to take shape, we’ll be here watching.
As you explore your faith, we’ll be praying.
As you discover what you like and don’t like, we’ll be here listening.
As you step into your gifts and follow your passions, we’ll be here cheering you on.
As you start to build a life of your own, outside of us, we’ll be here supporting you.
You belong, my child.
We will protect you from any harm we can.
We will try like crazy to be people who “get” you.
We will work hard to hear what you are saying and what you aren’t saying.
We will do what we can to make you feel seen and known.
You belong, my child.
When you mess up, we’ll have grace to give.
When you succeed, we’ll be celebrating, and probably bragging too.
When you fail, we’ll be your soft place to fall.
When you need to have your belly filled, we’ll fill up your plate.
When you are tired, we’ll have a place to rest your head.
When you need a ride, we’ll grab the keys.
When you are hurting, we’ll have Band-Aids and hugs.
When you have a heart that needs tending, we’ll tend to it.
When you leave, we’ll always be here waiting for you to come home again.
You belong, my child.
Someday you might find other places you belong: clubs, jobs, hobbies, friends, school.
Someday you might wonder about your birth family.
Someday you might find yourself curious about China.
Someday you might process what adoption means to you.
Someday you might get married and move away.
Someday you might be a parent.
None of these will change your belonging with us.
Belonging is not possession. It’s not limited by time or even nearness.
It’s somehow both holding on to you and letting you go.
You belong, my child.
The truth is, we’ll never do all these things perfectly. Your family is a bit messy and highly imperfect. We drop the ball. We yell too much and hurt each other’s feelings. We fail each other. We’re going to need your grace again and again. But child, we’ll sure keep trying hard, because we love you like crazy. You belong to us and we belong to you. We choose you and we hope you’ll always choose us.
I don’t know where you’ll go or what you’ll do. I don’t know what joyful, sad, hard, extraordinary or ordinary chapters God will write into your story. The only thing I know for sure is that you’ll always belong with us. In this place, with this family, and in this heart of mine.
Originally posted on No Hands But Ours.
