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Rejoicing In the Lord As An Adopted Child

This is a poetic testimony of a child from an orphanage ... adopted by loving parents:
Though I look sober, still in the Lord do I indeed rejoice Grateful am I to hear my father and mother’s voice With “We love you, dear; you’re a child of our choice.” As a baby, a lot of things I can’t understand… But, I’m being trained to trust the Creator Who has perfectly planned Everything for my life, beauteously grand by His divine brand. Well, it was sheer triumph of gladness that reigned over my amusement The very first time I experienced loving home’s engagement… Yet, please allow me to express sincere “baby-bewilderment.” So true, I’m puzzled because I don’t have the looks of my Mom and Dad You can’t blame me if somehow such causes me to be sad, but not mad… Even if told that the Master wondrously molds me to be a good lad. Yes, my brain is questioning this present situation of mine… Hoping that in God’s best time I’ll comprehend His marvelous design: Why I’m an adopted child, which accordingly is “just fine.” Now, I’m settled in my adoptive family’s faithful care While nestling in my parents and siblings’ nurture for my welfare Thanking them for making me belong with their adoption-share. Praising the Saviour for my new “psychosocial” identity I, rescued from abortion, pray earnestly for God’s blessings’ bounty As I grow up to learn about adoption* and its spiritual beauty.
*Ephesians 1:5 Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will. Narrative through Rhyme in extended “Tristich” form May 1, 2019 6th place, "Baby Face What's You THINKIN' 2" Poetry Contest Sponsored by James Edward Lee Sr.; judged on 6/3/2019.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 6/4/2019 5:20:00 PM
Thanks Beata, for your poem..Congrats!! on your placement in my contest... Write On James
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Date: 6/3/2019 7:41:00 PM
A special place in my heart for adopted children. My mom was adopted and was reunited at the age of 65 with her natural mother! Lovely poem, Beata. Congrats on your win.
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Book: Shattered Sighs