For today’s musical pairing, listen to “S.T.A.Y.” from Hans Zimmer’s “Interstellar” soundtrack. Note that all the songs for this series have been gathered into a Spotify playlist here. See video below.
“The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’”
“Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.”
Day 9. 775,306 confirmed cases, 37,083 deaths globally.
My youngest daughter was born on the other side of the world to a family I never met. Since her heart had not formed properly, she was left in a baby safe-house outside an orphanage and eventually found her way to people who produced the funding needed for life-saving surgery. Americans and Chinese, most of them followers of Jesus, helped her heal and grow.
She was three years old when her picture appeared on our Facebook feed. She needed a home and a “forever family.” My wife and I did not need to make a decision. We simply recognized our daughter.
Adoption is a mysterious thing. It’s not a resolution to form something new. It’s a realization that something beautiful was already formed, and we are only now beginning to realize it. My wife fought like a lioness to bring her home. “My child is stuck in another country,” she said. Our little girl called me Baba (“daddy”) when we spoke across computer screens. Although we started on opposite sides of the planet, separated by oceans and borders and languages and cultures, somehow she was a part of our family from the very beginning.
So we made our way around the world and found a little girl who was 37 inches and 39 pounds of laughter and energy and determined affection. Then we brought her home. We were apart for a little while, and now we are forever family.
You say, O Lord, we are adopted. As we watch the virus reaching swiftly across the face of the Earth, as we see it take root more firmly in our own soil, we take comfort that you have made us your children.
When you look upon us, you do not see strangers. You see your sons and daughters. You loved us before we knew you existed. You see our suffering.
Perhaps it feels like we are in a foreign land. Isolated and alone, unloved and unsheltered and vulnerable to the whims of fate. Perhaps it feels like our hearts are failing us. Like we cannot breathe, cannot rest, cannot find our way to safety.
So we take comfort, Jesus, that you are a Savior who comes to us. No matter how far we feel from you, we are yours and you are ours. Even if we were on opposite ends of the universe, somehow our cry would reach your ears and you would find your way to us.
And when we leave this place, whenever that day may be, it will be a day of rejoicing. You will not lead us to a strange country. You will lead us to the home we were always made for.
Apart is temporary. Together is forever. Give us strength in our apart and joy in our together.
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