Guest Blogger- Erica Dalton

Sometimes I forget.

Sometimes I forget that I didn’t give birth to Isaiah.

Sometimes I forget that he is Asian.

Sometimes I forget that we don’t share DNA.

Sometimes I forget.

Then God reminds me. He reminds me what matters most. Isaiah is my son. Race, DNA, and
biology do not matter. Isaiah calls me “mom” because God took a little boy, born half way
around the world and gave him a family when he had none He gave him a home when he had
none. He gave him hope and the promise of a future when he had none. And we, his family are blessed.

In that blessing, God has revealed his plan and love for me and all of mankind. Before Jesus, I was an orphan, lost, alone, without a home, a hope or a future.

And then Jesus.

He took a heart and soul from the pit of hell and gave me a hope and a future. Isaiah didn’t
have to do one thing to earn our love or place in our family. He is loved and cared for just as he is. He just has to freely accept his status as our son and the benefits and blessings therein.

God does the same for us. He asks us to come just as we are and freely accept our place in His family and all of the benefits and blessings therein. I call him Father and he calls me daughter.Isaiah calls me mom and I call him son.

From the outside it looks as if Isaiah is the one blessed. I beg to differ. God has used a bright,caring, compassionate, kind little boy to teach me the heart of the gospel. So I believe I remember what matters most. Isaiah is my son. I am a child of the most high God. And I am blessed!