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Into Joseph's Welcoming Arms

Things must have been really tough for St. Joseph. He was a good man, a righteous man, but just a man - a sinner, like you and me. Plus, he was asked to do something incredible: believe an angel that the woman he was about to marry was pregnant with the Son of God. Oh, and raise that child as well.

We hear that story so often, we hardly think about it. Can you put yourself in that place for just a moment? You think the person you love has betrayed you in the deepest way possible, and you're trying to figure a way out of the situation. You toss and turn, you weep, you pray. Then, an angel appears and tells you what's up. AN ANGEL APPEARS. Yeah. Think about that.

And what does this good, but sinful man, do? He welcomes the Baby. He caresses Him, and coos to Him. He protects Him and his Mother, cares for them in danger and turmoil. He fathers that Child...that Child that is not his.

I didn't know this until a short time ago, but there are a lot of people out there who HATE adoption. HATE IT. Vitriol and venom. You can cruise around the internet and find 'em. Some of them were adopted themselves, some had children taken from them and placed for adoption. Many of their stories are sad, horrid, terrible. No one should ever have to go through what many of these people went through. But they hate all adoptions because of it. And that's wrong.

Adoption is not the way things are supposed to be. It is always a second choice. It should be a process of honesty and respect. We know that parents should be able to raise their own children, in a happy, healthy environment, loving them into a safe and mature adulthood.

But life ain't like that.

My kids birth mother was addicted to crack. She is probably mentally ill, and was thrown out onto the streets as a teen. She had no ability to raise one child, let alone five.

I thank God every day that she chose life for them, as it would have been so easy for her to choose abortion. She gave them what she could: life.

I did not choose to be infertile, and dreamed of a bunch of red-headed babies. I got everything but. As always, God knows best. Like Joseph, we tossed and turned, wept and prayed. No angel appeared (thank goodness!), but the babies did. And I hope they found the same amount of love that Christ found in Joseph's welcoming arms.

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