Bought

When you adopt, particularly internationally, the cost is always on someone's mind and often that gets expressed very poorly. Recently a woman on my adoption e-mail group, who has been waiting almost a year for her referral , got the "Why is it taking so long, you're buying the baby aren't you" comment. She was asking the group how they dealt with such comments.

Typically, I've responded to comments about the costs of adoption by saying that doctors and nurses don't help you bring your baby into the world out of the goodness of their hearts. It's just for most people the true costs are hidden by insurance coverage. With adoption, however, the costs of getting your child home are not hidden.

Later, as I was driving home listening to a new scripture set to music CD, the song for 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 came on.

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.

It then occured to me that the truest response to such comments is "We were all bought...Christ paid the highest price to bring each one of us home. The money I paid people to help me bring my child home from China doesn't compare to the price that was paid for me and for you."

I know that right before I accepted Christ as my savior one of the most difficult concepts for me to grasp was that this price had already been paid and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was in the past. I desperately didn't want Christ to have had to die for me (me not being worthy of such a sacrifice and all). I eventually realized that it was a done deal and the only thing that was within my control was to accept that the price had been paid or to reject it. Rejecting it wouldn't take away one bit of the sacrifice or the suffering anymore than my being a "good" person would lessen what He did or make what He did unnecessary. It was already done. Nothing I could do now more than 2000 years after the fact would change what had been done or why it had been done. The only question was - would I benefit from it? Would I accept that the price for me was paid and the way home was now open?

Now that I've had my daughter home for nearly two years, the cost seems inconsequential. I am beginning to realize that perhaps God takes such delight in me, and each of his children, that he truly doesn't count the cost to bring us home.