You know that Sunday feeling, right?

We leave the church building inspired and filled with Truth and encouragement on Sundays … and somewhere along the course of the week, pieces of the message tend to fade and we often lose that Sunday feeling. 

The Monday After {the Sunday Sermon} is our attempt to carry the Sunday message into Monday mornings by walking together and sharing how what we’ve heard on Sunday morning is making a difference in our Mondays, our weeks, our lives. Because of your generosity to Accelerate, we are able to share these stories! Thank you!

The Monday After Sunday, December 1, 2013 {Listen to the message HERE!}

By Hyacynth Worth

When I was growing up, my mother had an open-door policy that I freely took advantage of at least once a week, bringing friends home for dinner, the weekend and even for an entire school year. During my high school and college years especially, we welcomed people into our home who had nowhere else to go — those whose parents were too far geographically or too distant emotionally or who had checked out of their children’s lives almost completely.

Though we didn’t have much while I was growing up, God always provided what we needed.

I didn’t understand it then, but my mother knew it well and lived it out through our lives —  though we didn’t have much, there was always room at the table for one more.

I’ve carried that with me all of my life. Wherever I’ve lived, there’s always been room at the table for others. I guess that’s one reason why we kept trying to add to our family after we’d been blessed with two healthy and happy little boys — I felt like there was still room.

This past summer, when I was aching and reeling from the loss of our fifth baby during pregnancy, I begged God to help my hurting heart make sense of all of the pain and loss and grief that accompanied three miscarriages in less than 18 months. 

I pleaded with Him to help me understand why my husband and I still so strongly desired to add to our family if we weren’t mean to have more children. Why did we have room at the table for more people if there weren’t to be  more people to sit there?

In my crying out to Him, loudly I heard him speak to my heart a call to care for the least of these, so much so that I couldn’t ignore coming across article after article about children who’d been abandoned by parents either through death or choice and scripture that calls us to such pure religion as this  — caring for the widows and orphans.

As we prayed, God answered our family’s pleas, and in my brokenness over losing three babies, He broke my heart for the children who no parents to care for them. In the breaking of our hearts for these children, we’ve felt called to action; we’ve felt nudged to make room at the table for the least of these.

Just two short weeks from today, our table will be one person fuller. Just two short weeks from today, a young girl from half a world, just 12 years old without a family to call her own, will find a place just for her at our table.

I don’t know what it’s like to have been abandoned by the people who brought me into this world. I don’t know what it’s like to wonder who will care for me or love me. I know we can’t fix that kind of brokenness with even the deepest love and acceptance a family can give a hurting soul.

But I think we can help change her life simply through offering her a seat at our table as part of our family for the month she is here. One of the goals in hosting an orphan, aside from helping the child meet her potential forever family, is to simply show the child that she is worthwhile — that she has been chosen, that there’s room for her at the table.

And while I know nothing of what it’s like to be abandoned, I do know what it’s like to be chosen, to have a space to sit around the table and know that it’s mine to fill.

Those of us who know Christ, know what it’s like to be adopted into a family, an heir of a Father who will never quit on us, who will never walk away from us, who will never abandon us, who makes a place for us at His table.

This Christmas, I can’t help but marvel at what it means to have been chosen, to have a seat at His table — to have been adopted by a Father who has bought me at such high cost, the cost of the son He sent to bear our burdens, reconciling wild hearts to His steadfast heart.

I pray as we welcome our host child into our home for a month, as we show her love and pray for God to reveal this young girl’s adoptive family, be it ours or another, I pray that He might show her that her truest forever family is the one where He sits at the head of the table.

Because at His table, there’s always room for one more.

For me. For her. For you.

Last island hurrah for the year. Say it ain't so.

Hyacynth Worth is grateful daughter to the Perfect Father, wife to John and mother to two little boys and three souls she will one day meet in Heaven. In between mothering and coordinating online communication for Immanuel, she writes about grace, motherhood and living a healthy lifestyle at Undercover Mother.

2 thoughts on “The Monday After: Story: An Adoption Story {Hyacynth}

  1. Wonderful story, thank you Hyacynth. We can so easily feel lost in this world, and when we surrender to His will, we can just as easily be found. Your heart is found in the love of orphans, which is a beautiful calling. Wishing you, your family, and the sweet little girl you will be hosting much comfort and joy this Christmas. I look forward to meeting her!

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