“My Daddy”

I loved seeing the world through the eyes of three special little girls this week.

Watching their faces light up as they held baby Rosie at church.

Seeing Emie spread her arms wide and shiver with excitement when she saw the lake. “Big water Aunt Linna, big water!”

Feeling their excitement over ice cream with chocolate sauce and M & M’s.

Catching Emie hiding in the tent with the entire bag of marshmallows stuffing them in her face as fast as she could.

Watching Katie feed the cow and then try to kiss it.

Can you imagine that just a few years ago Katie and Emie had never experienced a beach before? Had never eaten a marshmallow or known the joys of M & M’s?

I was struck with the wonder of adoption.

They talked a lot about home this week – especially about daddy.

“My daddy has whiskers.”

“My daddy works hard.”

“My daddy tickles me.”

“My daddy strong.”

“My daddy fix it.”

My daddy.

These two precious girls, rejected by their society because of their handicaps and living in an orphanage in the Ukraine, had no right to call him their Daddy.

He had no obligation to them – they weren’t his children.

But he had paid a great price, traveled many miles, and made them his own.

He chose them. Adopted them. Ransomed them. Loved them.

They are now his. They have every right to call him Daddy, to climb in his lap and snuggle, to sit at his table and eat, to grow and blossom – secure in his love.

“My daddy.”

What a beautiful picture of the heavenly Father’s love for me.

He paid a great price- his son’s life – to ransom me.

He chose me, adopted me, ransomed me and loves me.

I am his own.

“The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15

Abba Father.

My Daddy.