Justin has been processing his adoption story as well as a three year old can. Every once in a while he mentions how he was in "E-opia" and how we came to bring him home. Recently he asked me, "Why did you leave me there?" So he doesn't quite yet understand the "before adoption" and "after adoption" part of his life. But what I find a little amusing is that in the past months, he has been saying out of the blue, in completely random settings, "Well, I joined the family." I don't know what he is thinking when he says this or what spurs him to blurt it out, but he states it more to himself than anybody and with the same matter of fact tone as if he were stating that he is wearing socks. I think it is funny and cute and sweet to hear, but it seems so disconnected from anything else going on at the time -I don't know if his mind is working through things in those moments, or if that is just his "filler phrase." (At that age, Caleb always used filler phrases that made no sense, but he would just say them to hear himself talk!)
It's one of those curious things.
I was surprised by another curious thing recently, but this one had to do with my own thinking.
Just last week, I caught myself off guard one day while I was interacting with Justin and the realization hit me that I no longer think of him as an orphan from Ethiopia who we adopted, but I just think of him as my son. Obviously I've thought of him as my son for a long time, but his former identity had also been a prominent part of who he was to me. Back when we first brought him home, I felt like I had a flashing light on my forehead announcing, "WE ADOPTED FROM ETHIOPIA!!" I felt so conspicuous about it and it felt like my sole identity for a time.
I remember walking around the county fair as a thirteen year old, after I had just gotten my ears pierced, and I was sure that
everyone noticed my tiny little stud earrings. It seems silly now, but it was a new part of my identity, and I hadn't gotten used to it yet. Now adoption is a new part of my identity, and two and a half years into it, I am beginning to wear my new identity without being aware of it. It is almost like I forgot we adopted him.
Here is the beautiful thing about it:
Since adoption is so close to the heart of God, everything about it shows me more of Him and His heart for me. I have always been a bit confused with how God can "forget" our sins. He is GOD, He knows everything! But scripture tells us that He remembers our sin no longer after He forgives us and adopts us into His family; while I was never quite sure how that worked, I trusted it to be true. Now here is the awesome connection to adoption: I didn't actually
forget that Justin was adopted, as if it never happened, it is just no longer a part of his identity to me. He's not my "adopted son", he is my son. Period. His life as an orphan in Ethiopia before us is a part of his past, and while I know that it will affect his present and future, as our sins affect ours, his identity to me does not involve his past. I am not constantly remembering his past as who he is to me. It's hard to explain. I obviously didn't forget he was adopted, I just don't live with this constant awareness of his previous identity. He has a new identity with me and that's how I see him.
And God sees me with a new identity as his daughter. Not as I once was, but as I am now.
What an awesome, curious thing!
Usually when I come across a book I'm interested in, I'll keep it in mind for a while or check it out from the library before I decide to purchase it. But as soon as I saw this book on Amazon, I ordered it. It arrived today and the kids and I crowded around to pour over its pages. While I have not read all of the text or thoroughly viewed all the pictures yet, I want to eagerly plug this book! It takes a look at places children sleep around the world -from the nauseatingly extravagant, to the deplorably inadequate. The author originally called his project "Bedrooms", but sadly, many children don't have bedrooms... or homes... 
