Ten years ago today, I got a phone call at work. The woman
on the other end of the line said: “We have a baby boy for you! But I have one
question I need to ask you first.” I prepared myself for a tax issue, a concern
about my boyfriend, something on my medical form, but was not prepared for what
came next.
“Do you take Jesus as your personal savior?” That stopped me.
Clearly they were trying to ascertain if I was Christian. I had been evasive on the adoption forms and the required autobiography, and they were now pinning me down. My agency did not require a particular faith, but the Texas agency they were working with did. (Their website states: ... the policy of the agency is to place our children in Christian homes where both parents believe that their salvation is through Jesus Christ, the Son of God as written in John 3:16. Very specific.)
So, standing there in my office, I stumbled on about God loving everybody, going to the Unitarian fellowship, etc. She said, “Right, but do you take God as your personal savior?” I realized she was trying to give me an out, changing “Jesus” to “God.” I thought about the newborn baby in Texas waiting for me; contemplated my principles, and said: “Yes, I take God as my personal savior.” I anticipated some vengeful God who I didn’t believe in sending down a lightning bolt through the phone.
“Good – just stick with that,” she said, and started to discuss travel plans.
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