Horse Poop

When I was a a teen, my family used to own horses. We had one horse in particular who didn't like me too much and unfortunately for me, I discovered this out only after I wound up in horse poop one day.

You see, this horse, unbeknownst to me at the time, had a thing with women. How do I know? That's silly... I know because he TOLD me. No, no... he didn't drum up a Mr. Ed impression. No, this horse, when you would turn your back to him, would pin his ears to his head and bob his noggin' up and down, like some cranky ol' lady chewing bubble gum with a bad set of dentures. And me, being the rocket scientist I am, didn't put two and two together, until it was too late.

So here I was, on a beautiful summer day, minding my own business, painting the broadside of our barn. I was standing about four rungs up on a ladder that was situated close to a divider that separated one corral from another. I had put Doc (my horse) out to the arena, so I could paint without him in the way, but never thought much about my dad's horse, Skip, as he was seemingly minding his own business in the neighboring corral, about 15 feet away from me.

And so, I painted and painted and painted. Occasionally, I would glance over my shoulder to see what Skip was doing - he seemed perfectly disinterested and half asleep most of the time and so, I'd go back to work. I did notice that each time I looked over my shoulder, the horse, although looking rather indifferent and unimpressed with what I was doing, was a bit closer to me each time.

And so, I continued to paint. I carried on this way for at least an hour until I finally heard heavy - and fast - hoof prints coming up rapidly behind me. The next thing I knew, I was flying through the air, the ladder was toppling over, the paint bucket was spinning, and my tricep burned as if I had roasted it in a fire. When I landed, I immediately looked at Skip, who, with a flick of his tail and a quick little head-bob, rapidly pivoted and promptly started running for the hills. Unfortunately for Skip, the corral was only so big and still in my hand, was a freshly loaded paintbrush.

When the excitement was over and I had exacted my revenge, I turned to dust myself off and noticed one of my arms had landed in some horse poo - not too much mind you - but it was just enough that I smelled like... well... poop. Horse poop isn't too bad actually. I guess because it smells mostly like alfalfa and it just doesn't have the same odor as carnivore poop. So I casually wiped it off on my jeans and walked inside to nurse the 3-inch welt on my arm.

Now, the thing about horse poop is, although it doesn't smell that bad, and generally, it doesn't look that bad, it still contains some nasty stuff. When fresh, horse poo may attract or contains parasites, flies and other organisms that when ingested by the horse (many horse may graze on their own manure, especially those that stay in their stalls real often) may cause permanent damage. When left to accumulate and dry, it decomposes and turns into a dusty substance that fills the air with spores which can cause respiratory problems in a myriad of species.

But what does this have to do with anything? Why am I so stuck on horse poo?

Over the past couple weeks, I've had some heart experiences - some good... some not so good. Matter of fact, over the course of the past week, I've had one particularly encouraging moment and one particularly discouraging moment - both came from fellow brothers and sisters in Christ and both were about adoption.

One really hurt me and made my heart ache. The other was like sitting in a sun beam. One really spoke to me about the sad state of orphans and the complacent attitude toward them in the church. The other filled me with hope - not everyone in the church is turning a blind eye to their situation.

Being an adoptive mom is hard sometimes. Most people, including the vast majority of Christians, have a mind-set where adoption is viewed as something second rate... not as good as the biological original. Adoption is something only infertile couples do and then it's only because they don't have any other option. I've heard things like, "it must have been hard for you not to have carried your baby because you didn't have that time to bond" and "it must be very difficult knowing you didn't nurse your baby because that helps to create a strong tie early on" and the always and ever question, "doesn't it pain you that you don't have real children?"

I don't know about you, but this sounds like horse poop to me. Seriously. Haven't we all had the same "harmless" thoughts about adoption once or twice before? Thoughts that don't scare or alarm us like something blatantly yucky. We just don't really notice how bad they truly are because they are subtle. Kinda like horse poop!

Now, I know many of these types of questions are originated by good, well-meaning people. Most of them have been (or still are) personal friends of mine, some who also happen to be mature Christians. But what these people don't understand, is that, in these little seemingly harmless questions, there is something more. These questions pass a line of subtle and quiet judgement, pronounced not only on the barren, but on the fatherless as well. These questions insinuate that we - as orphans, adoptees, or adoptive parents - are damaged goods, only half-completed people walking around with the inability to truly bond with our parents/children because we just don't have the same DNA. The bond we have with our children is not as strong as a biological bond because we didn't have the opportunity to physically birth, nurse or pass on our own genetic material. The love we share is not as pure or as great because our biological make-up is not the same; it's some form of thrift-store love that people go to get after it's been worn and discarded by someone else.

Horse poop.

Adoption, although not mainstream or important to the secular public, should be to the body of Christ. What's more, we, as Christians, should view adopted children and families the same way we view biological children and families - because that is how God views His adoption of us. Adoption is the very picture and example God set for us by sending Christ to us. If we don't feel adoption (both heavenly or earthly) is important and just as valid, then whoa-boy, our theological perspective has some serious holes. If we, as Christians, can't see beyond the "glory" of reproducing our own genetic material, then we'll contineu to totally miss the point and millions of children/non-believers will continue to pay the price. We're actually buying into some sort of twisted form of Darwinistic Christianity.

That's uncomfortable, isn't it? That makes me squirm, not because I don't believe it, but because I DO believe it. And at the risk of becoming very unpopular with my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ - if you don't feel the same way - then it's time to re-read your Bible. Seriously. Without a doubt.

I'd like to share something Zach Nielsen, a fellow adoptive-parent and blogger, who wrote the following which pretty well sums it up:

"I think the gospel should influence every area of life, but especially adoption. Understanding that we have been adopted into the family of God (Eph. 1:5) when we were in dire need as weak and powerless sinners should inform how we care for those who are weak and powerless in this world. We see such a huge need in the world today and we have been given so much, and Biblically we know that we have been blessed to be a blessing, so adoption seems like a logical step for us.

Ultimately it came down to this: Our only real reason for not adopting is selfishness. If we can afford to support three kids I think we’ll probably be ok with four. The prospect of having an even crazier home, or getting up with another child in the middle of the night, or having enough energy to train and discipline another child pales in comparison with the overwhelming needs of an abandoned child who needs a loving Christian family. You could respond and ask, “Do you think that all those that choose not to adopt a child are selfish?” Certainly not, but it might be a good idea to ask yourself why you don’t want to adopt. Of course there are good reasons, but if you are able and in light of the huge need in our world today, why not? I recognized the legalistic danger here. Adopting a child is not a Biblical command and we cannot place this conviction of ours on anyone else as an identifying mark of real Christianity. But I think this legalistic danger is worth the risk in light of the need."

So what is your take on your own faith? Do you think God sees you as a second rate product? Do you think we should view each other - or anyone else for that matter - as less because we didn't belong to Him at birth or maybe still don't belong to Him? Are we sub-standard because we are - or once were - orphans? Not a chicken's chance in Chinatown!

Let's stand and be counted together. The body of Christ should no longer look the other way while millions of children (and just broken people in general) are floundering, some dying, in a world without the love and care that Jesus so freely offers. Let's change the way we think now, so we can introduce the next generation to a world where defending the fatherless and caring for those in need is a priority.

So I challenge you, take a closer look at your faith. If you think adoption is only for the barren, if you think caring for orphans is only for adoptive families, if you think foster kids are children best left to others who are already passionate about helping them, then dear one - you've missed understanding what your heavenly adoption should mean to you and what it really means to God.