In some sense, I can relate to Mary the mother of Jesus. Luke records that after the birth of Jesus “Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19). We can almost imagine the young physician, Luke, interviewing the aged Mary concerning the birth of Jesus. How her eyes must have sparkled as she unpacked memories tucked away securely in the folds of her mind and told to him the story of each. Like Mary, I, too, have precious memories stored away in my heart. Occasionally, like the jewels they are, I remove and examine them to appreciate anew the facets and brilliance of each.
Jim White
Like many other young couples, Connie and I heard our family doctor speak a bitter truth. “I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but the chances of your having children are about one in a million.” We had always just assumed that our “happily ever after” storybook life included having children. That it might not was a shock we had to work through, cry through and pray through. Eventually, we decided to adopt.
After completing all the necessary forms, writing required essays about why we wanted a child and proving we could financially care for one, we were finally approved as adoptive parents. In those days, infants were more available for adoption, but even so we were told our wait would be one to three years.
Although we tried our best to go on about our lives without dwelling on our wait, our perpetual state of suspension was hard to ignore. As a young pastor, it seemed I was constantly visiting hospitals where babies had just been born to young couples in our church. Whenever Connie and I spent an evening out it seemed that pregnant women were everywhere! And news reports of abused children nearly sent us over the edge.
We tried not to let ourselves think about that distant day when we would get that call that would change our lives — and the life of a sweet little baby — but as months passed, it became more difficult. As the advent season approached, we couldn't help making a very specific Christmas wish. We spent a lot of time talking about “what if — ” actually suggesting names. Although we found agreeing on a boy's name to be somewhat contentious, we settled on “Allison” for a girl.
On December 8 of that year, as I visited a church member in the hospital, her phone rang. She excused herself and answered. “Yes, he's here,” she said, and handed the phone to me. The excited voice of my exultant wife informed me, “Allison's coming home tomorrow!” And so it was that while we were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered — to our doorstep.
The next day, dressed in our finest church clothes, we paced back and forth watching, waiting, impatient for her arrival. At long last, a car pulled into our driveway and a pink bundle emerged from the passenger door in the arms of our trusted social worker. And we caught our first glimpse of our daughter. Her mama was the first to hold her while I looked upon her tiny sleeping face over Connie's shoulder. Snuggled in that blanket she was a perfect picture of contentment. In that instant, we gave ourselves completely to her — our baby. Unto us a child is born ….
Our church family celebrated the blessed event with us, packing our little Volkswagen the next Sunday morning with baby presents. They offered congratulations and words of advice. One dear elderly lady went so far as to exclaim, “Oh, Brother Jim. I think adopting is such a nice way for pastors to get their children.”
Our thoughts turned quite naturally that Christmas season from the birth of our baby and the joy she brought to our small world to that other Baby whose birth occasioned for all time cause for world-wide celebration. Unto us a child is born ….
It is the birth of the Christ-child when God became flesh and dwelt among us full of grace and truth that we celebrate. For, he is God with us, Immanuel. He is with us when we are caught in the strangle-hold of our sins seeking salvation. He is with us in the good times when his Spirit joins the celebration. And, he is with us when our hearts are breaking, shouldering our burdens and carrying the weight of our loads. He is with us to comfort us, to encourage us, to save us.
We have reason to celebrate Christ's presence with us! He took our dark days of depression and flooded them with the light of his countenance. He took our troubled time and turned it into rejoicing.
A good many years have come and gone since our new baby first passed through our threshold and with their passing, precious new memories were added. And, as I examine each one, the lingering presence of that Christ-child blesses each one. Our baby is now grown and we have experienced the joy and blessings of two granddaughters — whom we are forced to share with their mother and daddy.
I should also mention that 20 months after our daughter was born, a son was born to us through the conventional means. So much for which to be grateful! Our family M.D. was smart, but he wasn't an M.Deity.
Observant readers will have already discovered that adoption is the theme of this issue.
In our small office of only four people two of us are adoptive parents. We represent thousands of others who have experienced the joy of welcoming a child into our homes and hearts through the adoptive process.
Be sensitive toward these whose lives are not working out as they envisioned and who are filled with a sadness for what might have been. And for those of you going through hard times of all kinds, we are not alone. He is with us.