Reading · Fullness of Joy Letter with Lisa C. Qualls

Welcome to today’s issue of Fullness of Joy. Most Saturdays, I send out a newsletter you can read in just a few minutes. Would you be willing to click the ❤️ like button? It helps others find my work. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Some families have adoption stories filled with sweet memories—children running into their arms at the first meeting, photos overflowing with smiles. Others could fill pages with stories of struggle, fear, and countless tears.

Ours has been much more of the latter, with some of the first sprinkled in.

I’ll be honest, I’ve cried out to God more times than I can count. Why us? We heard Your voice, we obeyed—so why did our world fall apart?

I know families with much easier stories.

Did we only imagine hearing God’s voice? Was He displeased with us? Or, maybe He just didn’t love us as much as He loved my friends?

Over time, the book of Hebrews has taught me three key truths about adoption.

When the author of Hebrews writes about the great heroes of faith, he tells us that some were rewarded for their faith. They “shut the mouths of lions” and “escaped the edge of the sword.”

But without pause, the author goes on to describe others who were stoned, sawn in two, or “killed by the sword.”

Some escaped the sword; others were killed by it. Yet Hebrews tells us: “All were commended for their faith.”

Faithfulness is what pleases God—not the outcome.

Hebrews 12:2 says, “For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame…”

Jesus died a shameful, criminal’s death, but He refused to take on the shame. He scorned it. Some translations say He despised or disregarded it.

I’ve carried so much shame over our hardships. If I were a better mother… If I had made different decisions… If I had chosen this treatment instead of that one…the doubts pile up.

But Hebrews reminds me I’m in good company with those who have suffered for the sake of Christ.

In the first century, festivals and games, including races, were often held as religious events. The way a runner ran their race told the world about the god they served.

The arena would be filled with people cheering as runners strained forward. In the same way, Hebrews reminds us that we’re surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses—those who have gone before us in the faith. Some are famous heroes whose names we know, while others are only remembered by their families.

They’re cheering us on as we run our race—as we show the world who our God is.

I picture our daughter, Kalkidan, on her feet, hands cupped around her mouth, cheering loudly and urging us forward. I imagine Russ’s father running down from the stands to run alongside Russ, like a friend who jumps in to help an exhausted runner finish the final stretch of a marathon.

Run, don’t walk.
Don’t quit.
Endure hardship.

You may be stumbling forward, gasping for breath, clutching your side, but don’t despair. Persevere.

This isn’t heaven, friends—we’re not there yet. No matter how hard we strive to control our lives or insist they look a certain way, the truth is that this world is broken. So we keep running our race, one step after another.

When we finally cross the finish line, we’ll experience a joy beyond anything we can imagine.

Keep running, my friends.

Question for you: Is your parenting journey different than what you imagined? Do you struggle sometimes to keep going? I know I do.

Just like in the old blogging days, we can share right here in the comments. This space can be a slice of beauty in the world.

I’d love to hear from you. Please leave a comment or just say hello.

One Thing Adoption has Taught Me

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