“I will tell of the decree: The Lord said to me, “You are my Son; today I have begotten you.”

Psalm 2:7

It was a sunny afternoon. I was playing in the backyard with my crew. They were climbing all over me. Laughing and giggling. We were roughhousing, tackling, and tickling. The kids were out of breath, and my heart was full. And my heart was expanding. I didn’t know what was ahead. I couldn’t paint the future for our growing family. I didn’t know their personalities or perspectives. I didn’t know how long it would take for me to be a dad. I didn’t know a lot on that beautiful, sunny afternoon. But I knew that love was growing in my heart.

You may know that three of my children are adopted. And these three are full siblings, but they came to be a part of our family at different times. The middle one, Elanna, has been a part of our family since before she was born. Deanna and I flew out to go to a doctor’s appointment with Momma Judy before she was born. We were in the room during the ultrasound. It was amazing, and love grew in our hearts as we saw our little peanut growing. Elanna’s older and younger siblings came to our family around 6 years later. Ember was 7, and Charlie was 18 months. Our family was stitched together by the hand of the Lord. Three of them grew in Deanna’s womb, and three of them grew in our hearts—all 6 of them are ours!

If you are unfamiliar with adoption, it can be a complicated process. As it should be—yoking children to a new family is not something you do on a whim. Deanna and I, along with a young Ethan, tackled the process together when Elanna was born. Deanna was in the delivery room. We spent a few days in the hospital caring for our new baby girl. Then we had to hang around in California for a number of weeks for the legal process to take place. Once the process got to a certain point and the right agency signed off on things, we bought our tickets and flew home as a family of 4. Well, 5 actually. Deanna was 6 months pregnant with Emery when we flew home.

The adoption process was similar, but easier the second time around. Since Ember and Charlie were not newborn babies, there were a few less hoops to jump through. Sadly, Momma Judy was terminally ill with cancer—the reason our family was growing again—so things were streamlined even more. Even still, our circumstances were such that I remained home, and Deanna flew back out to California for the adoption.

Deanna was with Ember, Elanna, and Charlie in California. She was going through all of the things and all of the emotions. She was already stepping in as mom for our two new kiddos. She was soaking in moments, loving Momma Judy, filling out all the paperwork, and making memories with these long-lost siblings. Deanna spent a few weeks with my children before I even met them.

I was home with the other three—playing in the backyard and trying to prepare for what was ahead. We were doing our best to get things ready at the house. I was talking to Ethan, Emery, and Ella about the joy and the changes that were coming as our family expanded by two more. None of us knew what the emotional realities would be for Ember and Charlie. Think about it—where would your mind and heart have been at the age of 7—carted off to a distant land called Ohio to live with people you never met? All while grieving losing the only Mom you’ve known and knowing that her time on Earth was short.

Mentally, I was preparing my heart to be patient. I knew that I loved these kiddos already. Love is far more about action than feeling. The feelings will follow the loving action. But I was expecting resistance. Ember didn’t have much of a say in anything that was happening to her. I was expecting a young girl to be standoffish. How could she not? A 7-year-old faced with some of life’s impossible hardships and removed from her familiar surroundings and network of people.

It is a strange thing indeed to love an unknown person. It is a strange place to find yourself—anticipating a relationship that exists at the same time that it does not. I had a relationship with Ember and Charlie. I was their dad. But I hardly would have called myself that in this moment. I certainly had not yet earned the right to be called dad. I was excited to add Ember and Charlie to the dogpile in the backyard. I couldn’t wait to wrestle and roughhouse with them until we couldn’t see straight. They both were mine. But I hadn’t met them yet. It was a bizarre reality that I was living during those weeks.

“You are my Son, today I have begotten you…” is a promise. It is a deposit on a future reality. This worship psalm points to the coming Messiah. It is hope-filled and bears many promises for Israel. God will not forget you. God will provide one who will make all things right. God is not sending a mere messenger—the Lord is sending His very own Son. Psalm 2 is all about the reign of God’s deliverer. This psalm is about the power, work, and majesty of the one who is coming. Enemies will be overthrown. Conflicts will cease. Injustice will be righted. All the bad will fade away in the wake of this Son—the one who comes to reign.

Of course, you and I know this to be Jesus. Jesus is the one who does this. But, for a moment, put yourself in the shoes of the ancient Jews who sang this song. Pray this psalm before the time of Christ. Read this psalm not as a prooftext of who Jesus is but as a downpayment of the Lord’s promise of a coming king.

This psalm preaches Christ before we knew His name to be Jesus.

It is expectant anticipation. It is the epitome of love before knowing the subject of your love. It is praise before you know the face of the one who is worthy of your praise. It is devotion to a yet unforeseen savior.

I sit here today fully knowing my daughter and son. I know Ember and Charlie’s personalities. I know when they need a hug and when they need to be left alone. I have a pretty good understanding of the kind of pep talk I need to give them to get them moving (that doesn’t mean I always deliver the type of pep talk; I often do the exact opposite. Just ask them.) I know their strengths and the gifts they bring to this world. I know the areas they still need to improve in and the rough edges that need to be sanded smooth. I can see in their eyes when I’ve said something that connects, and I can certainly tell when I miss. I know them just as well as I know my other 4 kiddos.

My love for them is strong. It runs deep and it rings true. I wouldn’t trade anything for them and for the joy and gift of knowing them.

And yet, it is pretty fun to think back to the time that I loved them before I even knew them. There was something fresh and invigorating about that time.

It was a cool summer evening when I loaded Ethan, Emery, and Ella into our van. We headed to the airport. It was the first night that our whole family was together. We waited for an eternity for Deanna, Elanna, and the two newest members of the family to round the corner and pass the security checkpoint. I was squatting low—ready for the moment to be whatever it was going to be. I wanted a hug, but I was ready with a high five or a fist bump. I didn’t want to force it. My plan was to let Ember lead the way.

And lead she did. That girl rounded the corner with apprehension. And then she saw us waiting. And she made a beeline for me, threw her arms around me, and nearly tackled me. Honestly, I hardly remember that part because my brain was trying to hold onto the sound ringing in my ears. “Daddy….” Her first words spoken to me…

It’s amazing how love can start—before you even know the face of the one whom you love. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you.

When was a time you experienced surprising love?