In my stint alone at the prayer room today, they were praying for God’s justice for the afflicted. Like a punch in my gut, came the realization that they were praying for my children in Uganda. I’m fairly certain, given the age range we requested, that my children have already been born. And while it’s natural to think that my parenting won’t start until they are in my arms, the real work of being the mom of these next two happens now.
The blessing of adoption — as pointed out to me by a friend well before I walked this road myself — is that, from the start, you’re offered the opportunity to see yourself as a steward of lives. Not their owner, but one to which they’ve been entrusted. This slight mindset alteration is huge. And, as my friend pointed out, it doesn’t just relate to parents who adopt. We’re all stewarding a gift.
My Ugandan children are alive and probably living under the finger of injustice at the moment. But God’s justice doesn’t start when we get them. The “whole” of justice isn’t the act of rescuing a child. The summary statement of justice isn’t simply the act of righting a wrong, at least according to God’s economy.
So to think that our most “just” expression comes in the form of action is limiting. In the same way, for me to see my advocacy for my children as on-hold until they are on American soil is limiting. We are not relegated to a perceived back-up strategy (prayer) when we’re not physically clothing the poor or giving them drink. Prayer is the furnace that fuels justice. It’s direct engagement with Justice.
And prayer, for me, has been the place where I’ve found that my perception of justice (apart from divine insight from God) is starved. God’s justice blows my own construction of it out of the water.
God calls us to seek Him, to cry out for understanding, to approach His wisdom as a treasure. And it is then that we can begin to understand justice (Proverbs 2). Because we gain the understanding and fear of God. And He is so other.
To all you mothers and fathers who are hanging out in the waiting room, now is your time. I don’t want to stop you from sending clothing or making blankets, but could it also be that you have a call to a quiet place in your home to cry out for justice? We are advocates in prayer for our children. In some ways, we have more time now then we ever will when we’re bathing and feeding them, to seek His justice on behalf of our little ones and the millions of others void of mommy’s and daddy’s.
It isn’t prayer or action. When we seek the face of the Father for the fatherless, our action becomes like an arrow straight to the heart of the issue.
If you’re not sure what to do while you wait on being deployed in the arena of justice, ask the One who is Justice. Ask Him for more of Himself. And for more of His understanding. It’s likely way bigger than we all can dream up. His ways are higher.
And I suspect you’ll have your own heart-in-need-of-a-Father touched in the meantime.
Oh man, then we’re dangerous. Ones who know they are loved by the Father can’t be stopped.