When I look at Losiah I see my son.
I don’t see an adopted son.
I see my son.
I see a kid who chooses to stick his bony butt in my ribs when he wants to snuggle.
I see a kid who chooses to laugh at all my really bad jokes exactly like Elmo laughs.
I see a kid who chooses to practice his Power Rangers moves on my head.
I see a kid who chooses me everyday to be his father in spite of my downfalls.
I see choice.
Sometimes i wonder if God made Him for me specifically.
I wonder what if his mom and dad would have kept him?  Would he still long for me?
I wonder what if his mom and dad now regret their decision?  Do they still long for him?
I wonder things that do not matter in the grand scheme of things.
This app kinda reminded me of that.
I took Seanna‘s eyes and put them on my face.


Crazy.
It’s me.
Her eyes fit my face with an ease that could only come from DNA.  I helped create her.
Then…
I took Losiah‘s eyes and put them on my head.


I make one mean Korean.
Or he makes one mean Mexican.
They just don’t fit.  Oh.  That is his nose too.
Either way…
That image is not what God intended.
No matter how hard I try he will always have to choose me to be his father as opposed to me being his father by blood.
I know Seanna will too. But you get where I’m coming from.
And that is a vulnerable place to be.
But it is the same place that God sits in with us.
Waiting for us to choose Him to be our father.
And our daily actions answer Him.
Do we curl up with Him?
Do we laugh at the joy of Him?
Do we enjoy Him?
Are we satisfied in Him?

If only we would choose Him as intentionally as my adopted son chooses me.
It’s better that way…
Los