Chosen

My husband is a armenian. I am so sure I spelled that wrong. its been a while. cut me some slack.
anyway. I always thought I was too. now I am not so sure.

I think its partly because I came a parent. I brought this life into this world and love them fiercely. the kind of love where I have no doubt in my mind that I would not hesitate to maim or kill someone who tried to harm my offspring kind of love. and I guess because I believe that God loves us, He loves us more fiercely that we could ever love our children.
As a child I remember asking my mother how much God loved me. She said "a lot". I said "does God love me more than you?" and she said "God loves you more than I do". and I thought "WOW! If God loves me more than my mother loves me, that is A LOT!"

Its funny, because when I think back on my life and my faith as a child, I am astounded at what I understood and what I believed.

When I was 7 or so, I still suffered from chronic ear infections. one night I woke up, for the millioneth time with my ear throbbing. I cried out to Jesus. I said "please Jesus" and in that moment my ear stopped hurting. It didn't completely go away, but the intense pain that I felt disappeared. I remember going to my parents in the middle of the night to tell them of my miracle and they were groggy and shooed me back to bed. but I knew what had Jesus happened. The God of the universe had listened to a prayer of a little girl and had healed her ear.
It wasn't until years later that I put together that I was scheduled for surgery for tubes in my ears and I never needed it.

I was adopted at 6 weeks. I know my birth mother and her whole family really well. they are all wonderful people. when I first met them I really struggled with the notion that I was taken away from some really great people. that if I had grown up with them, I would have turned out fine. that my mothers' husband would have raised me as his own. that I never would have left their family.
I do think about it. somedays I imagine what it would have been like. would my siblings have existed if I had stuck around? would they have remained together raising a child together so soon after they starting dating? I don't know.

So this is my story. I was plucked from a family who would have loved me, cared for me and raised me through my growing up years. I found myself in a family of extremely young parents under very bizarre circumstances. My bio father is First Nations, partly. that means I am. I was put in this "hard to place" children because I was not all white. apparently all white babies are what most people want. my parents felt led to adopt. they were so very young. 21 and 24. it was the only program they qualified for. so not too long after they had applied, they ended up with me. my mom said the nieghbours across the street were annoyed because they were also trying to adopt, but their perimeters were a lot smaller, so their wait was a lot longer.
My parents were/are faithful. I dont want to put "very strong Christians" because I feel that their lives are not about putting on a front and doing Christianly things because they were suppose to. They were faithful. Faithful to what they knew and what they understood that God wanted for thier lives.
That is what I grew up in. People were genuinely confused when they learned I was adopted and my parents were capable of having bio children of their own. but my parents never made me feel second class. they always told me I was special. that adoption meant they could NEVER be rid of me :) I remember singing this kids song in church "I am adopted, I am a special kid you see, I am proud to be a member of the royal family. my father owns the kingdom and He sits upon His throne, He gives me everything I need, its nice to just belong. I am ADOPTED, I am CHOSEN, I bear my Fathers' name..." I always liked singing the song because it was doubly meaningful to me. I knew what it meant to be adopted, I knew what it meant to be grafted into a family that I was not borne into.
My childhood faith and experiences could probably be another blog entry. Suffice to say, that I have felt my ENTIRE life an awareness of God, a sensitivity to His spirit that some days I would rather ignore. or forget. I heard a comment once" I could go through a whole day without thinking about God". I cannot imagine this. I am not saying this to be arrogant or judge those who do feel that way. but for better or for worse, God is always on my brain.

I think it is this feeling of unsettledness that I have also become more aware of. I think its because I have learned that there are people who don't think of God every day that I am aware that I am different. not in a bad way, just different. This is not to say that I pray every day. because honestly, I probably don't. but I usually find myself pondering something of God's character, what God would think of the activity I am doing, etc, etc. just an constant awareness of His presence, even if we aren't "talking" all the time. I say this because I have a friend who does have that kind of relationship. she speaks to God on a regular basis and has conversations.

I also look at my life and have come to believe that I am chosen. Chosen for what I don't have a clue. perhaps I have all ready accomplished my purpose. but chosen because of my life. My life song. its a feeling I can't shake. its a feeling that I am somewhat unsettled with because it makes me wonder if I do have a choice? I don't know.

I am not trying to make a statement that I am a firm Calvinist or something. Because I am not. I am just struggling to come to peace with something that I don't necessarily WANT. All of those times in my life where I was doing things that were not pleasing to God, I KNEW. I knew that I was grieving God, I knew my life choices were INCREDIBLY stupid, yet I continued to do them. but again, I could never ever shake the feeling He was always around.

I guess the flip side of this is saying that some people aren't "predestined." when I was talking to my dh about this he said "so you think that God may never "chose" dd?" my heart sank. but I realise that I am thinking of her now at this age, where I don't believe she is accountable for her "sins". and I realise that I want to raise my daughter with the same awareness of God that I always had. I don't believe and nor would I ever, that if my daughter(s) were to die at this point, they would not be safe in the arms of Jesus.
However, as she ages, maybe she will "reject" Christ. I can't say for sure. I am not sure.

I don't know. I certainly do'nt have it all ironed out. but it is something I am pondering.