Adoption: The Blessing of Being Chosen {Guest Post by J.D. Wininger}

This week, I’m delighted to introduce to you all my Texan friend, Mr. J.D. Wininger, who is sharing with us a portion of his adoption story. November is Adoption Awareness Month. And so, around this time of year, I love featuring special adoption stories. Each is unique and speaks to a different aspect of adoption. Adopted as a teen, Mr. J.D.’s story is enlightening and powerful.

The Blessing of Being Chosen

by J.D. Wininger

All in jest, good-natured fussing between brothers, even adopted ones, can sometimes reveal great truths. Tussling about in the neighbor’s pool on a warm Sunday afternoon, my little brother Paul and I rested on the edge of the pool. In his usual animated style, “Stretch” (our nickname for the 6’5” baby of the family) pushed on my shoulder and stated matter of fact, “Mom and dad love me more.” He then smiled that big ole Stretch-smile and awaited my reply.

“Might be Paulie, but remember mom and dad HAVE to love you. They CHOSE to love me.” He threw his head back and howled with laughter at my comeback and we resumed horsing around. These many years later, I look back and see so many truths in that snappy comeback.

Adopting an Older Child

Adopted into the family at 14, this wayward, headstrong young man came with a lot of emotional baggage.

From a very young age, I knew I was different from all the other children in the home where I grew up. I was in my 30s before my biological grandmother and beloved aunt confirmed I was the result of an illicit affair.

But, I knew many years before then. A left-handed young man with blonde hair and blue eyes, over six-foot tall, isn’t that common among a family of short, dark-haired, right-handed parents and siblings. Looking back at my first few years as an adopted child, and I didn’t think of myself much of a child back then, I see just how costly choosing was.

In choosing to add me to their family, my adoptive parents made a truly life-changing sacrifice. I’ll always remember how they worked to accommodate me and help me through my insecurities and distrust. Did they laugh when they’d find me digging through the fridge or pantry to make sure the food was still there in the middle of the night? To this day, I’m obsessive about being “food secure.”

When I would say or do things natural to me, but not aligned with my new family’s values, I’ll always remember how mom or dad would gently correct me. I learned that the most effective discipline came not from force, but from respect. The greatest punishment for me was to see them disappointed in my actions.

With patience, lots of love, and more restraint than was humanly possible, mom and dad guided me through formative teenage years and into adulthood. Even in middle-age, my dad was still my confidant and trusted advisor.

Chosen

One of my life’s goals as an adult was to become the man they always told me I could become. After a childhood of being told how stupid and worthless I was, it took many years for me to put those skeletons in my closet to rest. It was in finding these words while studying God’s Word that I could begin reconciling my life.

“You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed
you that you should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit
should remain, that whatever you ask the Father in
My name He may give you.” (John 15:16, NKJV)

God chose me before He laid the very foundations of the earth. He chose me. Accepting His invitation for salvation, and thus reconciliation with Him, meant I had a friend in Heaven who had always loved me, would always love me, and never forsake me. I thought about how much love my adopted family has shown me through the years, and I cried when I considered the depth of love my Savior had for me. Recognizing that He gave up His life to reconcile me to the Father and adopt me into His family was heady stuff.

My adopted family here on earth sacrificed (time, energy, resources, comfort) because they chose to make room in their lives for a wayward young man. In an even more costly way, Christ Jesus made that same choice to adopt me into His eternal family many centuries before. I’ve spent most of my life hoping I could somehow repay my adopted family for all they chose to give up and pour into me. I pray when old-timers remember me as that tow-headed young man they knew as “Mr. and Mrs. Adams’ boy”, they’ll see all the goodness my adopted family poured into me. Did I make my parents proud? I hope so, and one day in Heaven’s glory, I’ll find out. Am I making as much of an effort to make my heavenly family proud in how I’ve represented them here on earth? I look forward to learning that too.

An Invitation

I want to invite you to be there with me to see how this story ends. If you don’t know for certain that God has chosen you from before the world (Ephesians 1:4), I invite you to seek a love relationship with Him. If you’re not sure how, ask my friend Ms. Sally or me. We’ll gladly show you how you can accept His invitation of adoption into God’s family through His Son, Jesus Christ.

J.D., thank you. We are grateful for your transparency and for your compassion for others. May the Lord continue to bless you as you share your stories, and His Story, with others.

J.D. Wininger is an award-winning writer and speaker who teaches compelling lessons in faith and writes heartfelt devotionals and books to glorify God. He has written for national magazines, CBN.com, Lighthouse Bible Studies, and contributed to several books. When not working his Texas ranch, He and his wife Diane share God’s love in surrounding communities.

Website: https://jdwininger.com/