I Was Not Good News
The Amanda Box origin story began with a pregnant teenager. I was not good news; I was a crisis.
Arrangements were made for my adoption long before I was born, and I was carefully, intentionally, prayerfully, and specifically placed with a family faithful to the Lord.
Now, in my house, adoption was the norm, not the exception. I was one of four children who were adopted. As I think back to how my parents communicated to us about our adoptions, there is no doubt that how they talked about it shaped my security system. Granted, there are many, many layers of predispositions, personality, and cultural variables that affect how someone would internalize a monumental event such as adoption. Every adopted person has their own experience, and I respect everyone’s unique story. Communication is one of the big variables, though, and my purpose here is to simply share the wisdom of my parents in how they handled a delicate situation.
My parents, primarily my mother, always told my story with joy, and I honestly can’t remember the first time I was told. There was no, “Sit down, we have some news.” They shared the story from the very moment I was held as a six-month-old baby and welcomed into a group of people who were strangers to me.
My story was always shared with age appropriateness and honesty. It went something like, “There was a mommy who was going to have a baby, but who couldn’t take care of you like she wanted. She wanted you to have a good home, with a family who wanted a baby girl and who could take good care of you. She especially wanted you in a home that loved Jesus and would teach you about him. So before you were born, a friend of the family called us.” And I remember my mom always used these exact words with a huge smile on her face, “Daddy and I said, ‘We’ll take her!’” Now this is a woman who had adopted three other children, one who was literally 12 months older than me, but she jumped at the chance to welcome in a fourth.
You might be wondering, “What was going on with this crazy person?” Even as I write this, I’m tearing up because I can hear my mother’s voice telling me this story when I was a tiny, tiny human. We had these books about adoption, too, and they were falling apart because we read them so much.
Here are some key elements that stand out in my mind when I remember my story:
“Before you were born” was always an important part of how I heard the story. As a tiny child, and even now as an adult, I felt secure, cared for, and loved even from the womb.
Another phrase that resonated with me was that my biological mother took great care in making sure I was cared for, even when she wasn’t in a position to do so herself. I heard this: “She wanted you to have a good home, with a family who wanted a baby girl and who could take good care of you. She especially wanted you in a home that loved Jesus and would teach you about him.” I always remember thinking how brave she must have been and how grateful I was for her decision. I always thought she did the right thing. Adoption was never a rejection to me; it was just the opposite. Being adopted-kid-number-four, this was a story of acceptance, not rejection.
The fact that I was going to be placed in a specifically Christian home established Christ as the top priority. That path was set for me by righteous people who loved me—again, before I was born.
As I grew older and understood more about the world, I was able to fill in the blanks and expand upon the simplified version of my story that I was appropriately told as a child. Yet, the basics of my story remained. I was protected on every level by two families who put Christ as a priority for me when I was unable to do so for myself. It was a story of acceptance.
Now, as important as this story is to me, the point of this article is to share the significance of how that story was shared. Metacommunication is a word that means “communication about the communication.” That’s what we are doing here, communicating about the communication.
Let’s compare.
I could have been told, “Your mother gave you up. She didn’t want you. We felt sorry for you, so we took you in, like a refugee.”
I could have been told, “Your existence brought great shame, depression, stress, and embarrassment. Your biological mother was immoral. Don’t be a loser like her; it’s in your blood.”
I could have been told, “Make sure you go to church so you don’t go to hell.”
So here is the thing: when you talk to others about Jesus, take a look at how you tell that story and what it means for their identity. Is it a story of acceptance or rejection?
Consider the spiritual age of the person you are talking to. With our babies, we pat the Bible and sing, “Pat the Bible 1, 2, 3. God loves you and God loves me.” We aren’t telling them everything they are doing wrong. “Look baby, you are slobbering too much, you need more teeth, and are really short. We have to address this very serious diaper situation now!” No, we introduce them to God’s love because that’s the priority, and they are just beginning to understand who God is. That’s what we want them to know first: a foundation of love and security, and their identity as a precious child of God.
Why are we surprised when people who know very little about God get so angry, defensive, hurt, and hostile when our conversations are all about the things non-believers are doing wrong or how we disagree? This methodology devalues the very people God created, and it misrepresents everything about Christianity. This is a story of rejection, and it will never be persuasive. Why would anyone be interested in learning more?
As you tell the truth in love, make it a story of acceptance. Consider the spiritual age of the person in front of you and show them who God is with age-appropriate language and concepts. God does not need us to defend him; he needs us to accurately represent who he is and how Christ works in our lives.
Consider Galatians 5:13-26 as a guide for your conversations. Yes, verses 19-21 mention some pretty high-profile sins, including sexual immorality, but they are preceded by verses 14-15:
“For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ If you bite and devour each other, watch out, or you will be destroyed by each other.”
It’s no stretch to understand how we can destroy with our words. And maybe we should focus on the whole list anyway, not just the sexual sin.
I’m using Galatians 5:13-26 as a prayer for all of us today. This communication evangelist is in your corner, and I can’t wait to hear about how you are using your words to share our amazing story of acceptance.
“You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.
“So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.
“The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.”
