Some days (weeks?), reality is unreal and dreams seem more like real life than the world I see when I roll out of bed.
I took the day off from life on Wednesday, skipped four classes and chapel to hike five and a half miles with some long-lost family. I played in a cold mountain stream with the little brothers I just met and stepped into a reality far removed from my own expectations. To anyone else, we were a normal family out for a hike. That evening, we were a normal family going out for dinner at a restaurant.
I had dinner with both of my mothers–the mother who bore me and the mother who raised me–my two little brothers, my stepfather and my boyfriend, Ben. There was an atmosphere of celebration, much like a Thanksgiving dinner with lots of people around the table. My birth mother brought flowers to the mother who adopted me at birth. The waitress, seeing the flowers, asked whose birthday it was.
“Not a birthday,” Ben said softly. “A family reunion.”
Adoption is such a beautiful thing. Just as I was adopted into a family when I was born–an amazing family who raised me and sacrificed so much for me–I was also adopted into a heavenly family by a heavenly Father who sent His Son to die for my sins. And one day we’ll have the ultimate of family reunions.