I Hate Autism…but I Love It

It’s personal.

I just don’t recall an autistic kid growing up.

We had this one kid in high school who, in recollection, must’ve been autistic based upon how he acted. He was just strange, peculiar in an autistic sort of way and of course the kids, me included to my eternal shame, were just awful to him.

I don’t remember another.

We had mentally retarded kids. Lots of them. Is that even appropriate terminology anymore? These kids had obvious mental and oftentimes physical limitations. They had their own class in school and even their own bus. Do they still have that?

But autism wasn’t a thing like it is now.

About Autism

It’s personal for me.

It’s easy to speak in a sterile fashion concerning a particular affliction.

Autism rates have skyrocketed over the previous decades, doubling in the last 20 years. Today, roughly 1 in 100 children will be diagnosed with autism, depending on the source. The CDC has estimated as low as 1 in 68.

Scholars differ over the cause. Is it due to increased awareness and diagnoses or is there actually an increasing prevalence. Most assume both.

Anecdotally, I’ll affirm the latter as children today are afflicted from conception.

Though it’s not entirely established, there is a clear link between between autism and Fetal Alcohol Syndrome as well as prenatal drug exposure. If a child is lucky enough not to be murdered in the womb, many are subjected to a full scale chemical assault that changes the very nature of their future existence. I’ll abstain from the vaccination debate for now.

The foster system has afforded us a front row seat to the struggle. Prenatal chemical and alcohol abuse afflicts all of my sons, some more than others. The only thing more shocking than its effects is its prevalence.

So for me, it’s personal. My son has autism.

And I hate it.

Why I Hate It

He showed up on our doorstep at two months of age and we immediately suspected something was amiss. His hands and feet rotated in a continual, rhythmic fashion, never at rest. He had other behaviors I’d just characterize as odd.

He flapped. I don’t know how else to describe it.

He also piked when excited, stiff as a board.

Diagnosis after diagnosis followed as the wholesale prenatal assault of illegal drugs had left their indelible mark. Epilepsy. Developmental Delays. Tourette’s just to name a few. And of course, autism.

We learned. Autism is a spectrum, a processing issue manifesting itself in behavioral, relational, and sensory issues.

My son thinks differently. His brain works in a different way.

And he acts weird, often strange.

He has ticks.

And meltdowns.

At a pool party, my son’s popsicle fell to the ground and he lost it. I mean, he lost it. For those who have never dealt with an autistic meltdown, know that no amount of consoling, cajoling, comforting, even threatening can preclude the meltdown. In front of everyone, my son melted into rage at the fallen popsicle…and everyone stared at him, family, friends, other parents. And he knew they were staring at him, and he raged that much harder.

Never mind that another popsicle stood at the ready.

We finally found a sport he enjoyed, soccer. Well, he really didn’t care about the game, but he liked to run and he liked to talk, so he would frequently run alongside his teammates while playing, chatting up a storm, moderately oblivious to the game itself to the ire of his coaches and teammates.

Autism is not something a kid ‘grows out of’ either. The older my son becomes, the more obvious it is that he is not a normal little boy.

Every parent worries about their child, desires a better future for them. For my son, I wonder.

  What will his future hold?

          Will he hold a job?

          Will he have a wife?

          Will he be loved?

I feel an intense need to protect him from a cold and uncaring world.

Because he is different, because he often acts strange, others notice. Kids instantly realize he is different. Interestingly, most girls treat him with intense kindness. With young boys, some do and some, well, you know the deal. You don’t have to teach kids to be mean.

Adults either.

My son has autism. I hate it.

And I love it.

Why I Love It

My son is peculiar and wonderful in a peculiar way.

He is truly God’s gift to us.

I asked him the other day teasing, “Who do you love more, Moe or Titus?” speaking of our dogs. He just looked at me, puzzled. “What about Dexter or Gideon?” speaking of our other two dogs. Again, a puzzled look.

“I love them all the same,” was his most serious response. He simply could not fathom the concept of loving one more than the other. He loves them all.

I frequently walk into the bathroom to find two cats lounging around a stopped-up sink full of water, evidence of his care for them. He is the only one who routinely wakes as early as I do. Some mornings, I’ll sit and listen to him carry on a conversation with two of the cats in the next room. Maybe the most precious thing I’ve heard.

He plays with hilarity and exhilaration with friends who accept him as he is.

His ever rotating catalog of ticks, Tourette’s-related, always bring a smile to my face. One week he stretches his mouth as wide as he can. Other weeks he stops frequently to touch his toes. The one where he rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way while being spoken to is probably my favorite.

He is a comforter, an encourager.

One of our tutors at school had suffered an intense personal issue that grieved her soul. As she sat softly weeping in a dark room, my son walked by and saw her grief. Without hesitation, he went in and gave her a gentle hug, the sheer sweetness of the act a boon to her spirit.

God made him perfect, my son.

And it’s just like God to do such a thing.

God is not the author of sin. The relationship between God and evil is a mystery and anyone who professes to understand it completely is either a liar or deluded. Yet, of this I am certain. God works all things to the council of His good will. All things serve Him and accomplish good in His people.

Not that all things are good in and of themselves.

You see, God made my son exactly who He meant him to be.

And he has changed me, my son has. God has changed me through him. Autism is hard. Autism is painful. I hate autism. But, my son has autism, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. He is perfect just as he is.

Bradford Smith

Bradford Smith

Author - Founder

Soldier, Pastor, Author – Bradford stays busy, with his wife Ami, raising their 9 children, serving the nation, pastoring, preaching, and writing books (#3 is due out October ’17).

THE 413 REPORT

If you loved this article, and would like to learn more about foster and adoption care, and to stay up to date on our projects, missions, and programs, as well as the release of Bradford's third book, Brave Rifles, please sign up for our Newsletter. The 413 Project is made up of common people empowering and serving others to accomplish an uncommon good.

  • This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.

This is a powerful read in a small book. The subtitle hits the mark with its description of, "A Biblical Treatise on Adoption." The author poses a challenge to the reader to stop reading the book upfront if the reader does not want to be moved to action.

   Janice S. Garey  

The call that sounds for the incredible need of emotionally and physically abandoned and orphaned children and one that when answered manifests the love of Christ.

  Anne Rightler

This book is a must read for anyone affected in any way by addictions. So many of the situations in this book seem hopeless, but as Brad so clearly points out, Christ is the solution and the only hope of man. As long as there is breath, there is hope!

  Scott Doherty

In Scourge, Brad offers us more than cold statistics or a cautionary tale. Instead, he offers us the solution - faith backed by action - to overcome this insidious problem Insightful and provocative, Scourge is a warning flag, guide post and rally to hope for all of us.

 Chad Chasteen

Do NOT Become a Foster Parent

Don’t do it.

Don’t adopt either.

You will thank me. This I promise.

The System is painful.

Okay, that’s a lie. The System is excruciating, frustrating.

Light yourself on fire and extinguish it with a ball peen hammer. Punch yourself repetitively in the genitalia until it stops hurting. Fling yourself down a flight of concrete steps into a kiddie pool filled with thumbtacks.

Okay, I’m being dramatic, sort of.

We pursued our son, Tevin, for years. He was 13, a resident of a group home, and had been in foster care for most of his life. We wanted him. He wanted to be adopted. It took nearly three years to make it a reality, three long years of absolutely critical developmental time, missed.

Two of my sons, brothers, had also been in foster care for most of their lives. They were our foster sons for four years before we could adopt them, four years of uncertainty, trepidation, and angst…for them and for us.

Overworked and underpaid, DCS workers manage intense caseloads and as with any system, there are good ones and not so good ones. Their bottom line is placement, not profit. At the end of the day, they have to get the kid placed, somehow.

          He’s healthy, sure!

          He’s well-behaved, no red flags at all.

          He is just the nicest young man.

I’ve spent enough time in court, we actually recognize repeat offenders. No joke. And each time, it’s the same. We expect the judge to issue the decisive ruling we’ve been waiting for aaannndddd, “Let’s hold off and set another court date in three months.” Hear me sighing.

Mountains of red tape, frequent and inconvenient supervised visits, ungrateful and sometimes even hateful birth families: expect this and more. Did I mention the hours and hours of mandatory classroom training?

Don’t do it.

Spare yourself. Trust me.

Not to mention that the kids are bad.

They are. You just won’t believe it.

They lie without hesitation. They take whatever they need with no qualms. They have unsafe premarital sex. They smoke anything they can get their hands on.

We’ve been cussed at and cussed out. We’ve been threatened. We’ve been stolen from, repeatedly. I own nothing of value and haven’t for many years and don’t intend to for this very reason.

Get the fairy tale out of your head. I know what you’re thinking. You’ll just love them so much that they’ll fall in love with you and everyone will just live happily ever after. Puppies and rainbows.

It’s a ruse.

What will happen is you will love them, pour into them, give of yourself with no guarantee of reciprocation. In all likelihood, they may hate you. Doesn’t make sense does it? None of it does.

Here is what will actually happen.

They will leave.

And it will hurt you.

Badly.

A friend of ours was gifted with a beautiful foster baby. For nearly three years, they loved that baby like no tomorrow and it looked like she would be theirs. At the 9th hour, a biological parent surfaced and the courts sent her home.

Our friends were beyond devastated. They were crushed.

They System errs on the side of the biological family as it must, to the point of insanity. Reunion is almost always the primary goal and biological parents are afforded every single opportunity to get their children back.

This is right. This is good, but it’s at your expense. Oftentimes, you must send the children home to a situation you know is not good, that you know is lesser.

We had two young girls for a couple of weeks before we had to send them home to their birth parents, a couple of local meth-heads. Well, at least they had their pit bulls to keep them safe.

Listen. You have a nice life. Go ahead and turn that spare room into a man cave. It’s what you really want to do anyway. Imagine a sweet 88” HD hanging on that wall, maybe a kegerator.

You don’t need this hassle.

Do NOT become a foster parent.

Do NOT adopt either…

…unless you want to obey God.

God doesn’t mince words.

Care for the orphan. Make disciples of them.

Take them into your home, love them as your own, and bring them up in the ways of the Lord that when they are older, they will not depart from it.

God is a God of justice, a Father to the fatherless and He commands justice for the fatherless. He commands it! What else could he mean by justice for the fatherless…than a father? The fatherless did not choose their plight, it was given of them by the sins of another. God speaks clearly, from Genesis to James, care for the orphan.

A true disciple of Jesus follows His commands, obeys Him, up to and including the willingness to deny self, to even suffer on behalf of the name.

The fatherless suffer at the hands of a cruel and unrelenting world. They grow into afflicted adults with little hope for advancement and most of all, they will likely never know Christ.

The biblical mandate is clear, much more clear than you’d like to acknowledge.

Otherwise don’t do it…

…unless you want to practice Christ-like love.

The love of Christ is this.

In eternity past, He set His affections upon His people. He decided to love a people who did not love Him and He died on the cross for their sins, that they might be reconciled to Him. He gave them new hearts that they might believe Him and love Him, but still they betray Him, every single day.

Still He loves them.

What could be more Christ-like than setting your affections on one not yours by birth, deciding to love them, even if they are unlovable, just as you were when Christ died for you?

Could you love one who offers you nothing in return? Could you love one who returns your love with hate?

Foster care and adoption fully demonstrates the heart of Jesus to the fatherless. Imagine being betrayed by those who were supposed to love you the most. What a bitter pill it must be, so imagine the surprise, the fear even.

You have nothing, no one, and then all of a sudden, you do.

What an amazing witness to the orphan.

What an amazing witness to your biological children.

As I seek to make disciples of my own children, perhaps nothing has better demonstrated for them the heart of Christ than our family’s ministry to the fatherless. I fail daily. I make mistakes, damage my witness with them, but the fact of adoption perseveres.

My greatest testimony resides in my daughters’ love for the orphan as all are active in caring for the fatherless.

What an amazing witness to the world, a world that has cast aside the powerless and left them at the hands of those who would exploit them.

So definitely do not foster…

…unless you want to change a life.

Drive-by ministry makes me want to vomit. Truly.

I despise ministry which costs men nothing. We must be willing to pay a cost, to sacrifice, to give of ourselves. Caring for the fatherless demands sacrifice. It cannot be done on the cheap.

But if you truly want to change a life, foster. Adopt.

Decide to love a child and then pour the grace, mercy, and love of God into them, as you ought your own children. It will change their lives. Irrevocably. Irreversibly. It has to.

At a minimum, they will be safe from the hands of those who would exploit the helpless and powerless. Maybe they’ve never had that, never had a home or a family. Maybe they’ve never actually been loved.

They may even reject your love, but nothing can change the fact that they will have been loved, they will have seen Christ in your love. No amount of rejection, hate, or affliction can diminish that.

Adoption and foster care will definitely change their lives, but most all, it will change yours.

You will never be the same…and that is a good thing!

Or you could just carry on as you have. It’s probably best that you do. Besides, I’m sure someone else will do it.

Bradford Smith

Bradford Smith

Author - Founder

Soldier, Pastor, Author – Bradford stays busy, with his wife Ami, raising their 9 children, serving the nation, pastoring, preaching, and writing books (#3 is due out October ’17).

THE 413 REPORT

If you loved this article, and would like to learn more about foster and adoption care, and to stay up to date on our projects, missions, and programs, as well as the release of Bradford's third book, Brave Rifles, please sign up for our Newsletter. The 413 Project is made up of common people empowering and serving others to accomplish an uncommon good.

  • This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.

This is a powerful read in a small book. The subtitle hits the mark with its description of, "A Biblical Treatise on Adoption." The author poses a challenge to the reader to stop reading the book upfront if the reader does not want to be moved to action.

   Janice S. Garey  

The call that sounds for the incredible need of emotionally and physically abandoned and orphaned children and one that when answered manifests the love of Christ.

  Anne Rightler

This book is a must read for anyone affected in any way by addictions. So many of the situations in this book seem hopeless, but as Brad so clearly points out, Christ is the solution and the only hope of man. As long as there is breath, there is hope!

  Scott Doherty

In Scourge, Brad offers us more than cold statistics or a cautionary tale. Instead, he offers us the solution - faith backed by action - to overcome this insidious problem Insightful and provocative, Scourge is a warning flag, guide post and rally to hope for all of us.

 Chad Chasteen

Foster Parents—When Your Best Isn’t Good Enough

Most days, I love my son greatly. I’ve become increasingly patient, responding to hostility with gentleness. I listen. I try to understand his perspective, taking into account his past affliction while holding him accountable as he needs.

Other days, I want to punch him in the face.

I’m not the perfect foster/adoptive father. Are you?

Parenting is hard work, no doubt. It always has been. Yet, our age presents unique challenges. Culture, media, the internet, the descent of our entire nation into godlessness— all conspire to mold your children into disciples of Satan.

Now, add a healthy dose of trauma.

System kids need perfection. Their trauma demands it.

And I’ve screwed it up, a thousand times.

I’ve been lenient when I should’ve stuck to my guns. I’ve been harsh when I should’ve shown mercy. I’ve lost my temper, been too dogmatic, focused on the less than important, not followed through, demanded more than necessary, expected too little. You name it. I’ve messed it up…and I’m tired.

Perfection is exhausting.

They Look So Normal

My sons look like any other kids.

In fact, they are handsome boys. I know I’m biased. Several of them look like the typical All-American kid— sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, the whole bit. The others sport year-round tans with mops of dark, curly hair—cute or handsome, depending on their age.

The trauma remains hidden…until it’s not.

It has no choice but to manifest itself in their actions.

I will never understand their trauma. I am only now coming to terms with its existence.
Consider, as a child, having your entire life ripped to shreds, repeatedly. A stranger shows up in the middle of the night and takes you…to a stranger’s house. The trauma of forced separation alone is stunning to consider.

They lack certainty and assurance. Who will love them? Who will take care of them? Will they ever see their parents again? Each move sets them back months in development. What happens after the fourth move, the fifth?

Physical or emotional abuse, neglect, or the fallout from drug abuse—all prevalent in system kids—darkens the reality further.

Episodically, all of my sons have been betrayed by those supposed to love them the most. Several suffer from Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or prenatal drug exposure. They witnessed violence, against their mothers. They were exposed to rampant drug abuse. They suffer physical, psychological, and emotional conditions.

And I expect them to act just like any other kid?!?

What About You?

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair to the kids. They didn’t ask for this hand. They were dealt it by the sin of another, through no fault of their own.

And now you have to deal with it. It’s not fair to you either.

They need a perfect parent. They need one who is compassionate, patient, loving, kind, understanding, steadfast, and firm. They need a parent who resonates with grace, one who emanates mercy.

They need a parent unlike you, or me for that matter.

In case you haven’t figured this out, you’re not perfect. Nor am I.

My son and I had a confrontation that went poorly. I prayed before speaking with him, but the issue became heated and before I knew it, he stormed out the door to the streets. In that moment, I failed him. He needed more than I had to offer. He needed something I did not give. This wasn’t the first time either.

After he walked, I retreated to the upstairs bathroom and wept bitterly. “Here we go again,” I thought to myself. My failures, my shortcomings, my imperfections as a father, overwhelmed me in that moment.

I needed to be reminded of a few truths.

Academically, I know these truths, but in my desire to be what my sons need, I need to be reminded myself. Perhaps you do as well.

1. They don’t need perfection. They need advocacy.

My wife embodies the advocate.

There is no limit to which she will not go on behalf of our sons. She will move mountains, storm the very gates of hell, on their behalf. She battles red tape, the system, lawyers, and doctors on their behalf.

She took a catatonic, FAS baby and loved and advocated that child to health and vitality, to life. Woe be the person, system, or process that stands in her way.

When they lost their families, my sons lost their advocate. They needed another to champion their cause. They will never know the extent of her advocacy.

Yours won’t either.

They will never see the sleepless nights, the tears, the hours spent on the phone with uncooperative government agencies. They will never know the turmoil in your own life wrought by the turmoil of theirs, the uncertainty you deal with.

They just will never know.

And that’s okay. It has to be.

2. They don’t need perfection. They need love.

Can you love someone who doesn’t love you in return?

Can you love someone who cannot love you in return, who lacks the sheer ability?

They desperately need unconditional love, just like everyone does. Yet, their affliction will oftentimes render them unlovable. They lash out, they rage against the invisible constraints of that which they cannot understand. They misplace hate and anger, maybe direct it towards you, the very one trying to help them.

They run and rebel. They resist overtures and maintain baffling loyalties to those they ought to hate.

It doesn’t make sense. It’s hard. It’s frustrating.

Love them. You’ll respond inappropriately. I promise. You’ll get frustrated yourself. You’ll return anger for anger. You’ll make decisions in response to their aggression and then you’ll second guess yourself, maybe doubt.

“What am I doing? I’m not cut out for this.”

But love them. You must.

3. They don’t need perfection, they need Christ.

How could I father without Him?

As often as I’ve failed, as often as I’ve dropped the ball, I have Christ to rest upon.

Who embodies advocacy but Jesus?

He presently sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty interceding for us, advocating for us. (Romans 8:34, 1 John 2:1) He is our voice, our righteousness. In the great transaction, He imputes His righteousness to us and we our sin to Him and forever, He is our champion.

Who embodies love but Jesus?

Really. Let’s talk about it. Imagine marrying a woman or man knowing that every single day for the rest of your life, they would cheat on you with another. When I was in my most unlovable condition, while I was yet a sinner, a hater of God, Christ died for me. (Romans 5:8) He decided to love me, he decided to set his affections on me.

Your foster children need this, they need Jesus, desperately.

Like anyone, He is their only hope. Yet, their affliction denies them the one who was supposed to bring them to the cross, their parents. Their suffering builds a great callous upon their hearts. The hardness is astounding.

Let your advocacy, let your love, fully demonstrate the love and advocacy of the risen Lord Jesus.

And let Him be your strength. Let Him be your rest. Let Him be your comfort, your strong tower, your rock, your help, your happiness. Let Him empower you.

Let Him free your foster children with the burden of your happiness or satisfaction.

My son needs perfection. I don’t have it, but I do. He needs perfection, so I give Him Christ, as much as I can, as often as I can, imperfectly, but perfect in my imperfections. When I tire, when I fail, I go to Christ. When I sin against my son, I repent. I ask Him to forgive me and then I ask him to forgive me. I lift him in prayer, do my best, and trust in the Savior.

Take heart. This is all you can do.

Bradford Smith

Bradford Smith

Author - Founder

Soldier, Pastor, Author – Bradford stays busy, with his wife Ami, raising their 9 children, serving the nation, pastoring, preaching, and writing books (#3 is due out October ’17).

THE 413 REPORT

If you loved this article, and would like to learn more about foster and adoption care, and to stay up to date on our projects, missions, and programs, as well as the release of Bradford's third book, Brave Rifles, please sign up for our Newsletter. The 413 Project is made up of common people empowering and serving others to accomplish an uncommon good.

  • This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.

This is a powerful read in a small book. The subtitle hits the mark with its description of, "A Biblical Treatise on Adoption." The author poses a challenge to the reader to stop reading the book upfront if the reader does not want to be moved to action.

   Janice S. Garey  

The call that sounds for the incredible need of emotionally and physically abandoned and orphaned children and one that when answered manifests the love of Christ.

  Anne Rightler

This book is a must read for anyone affected in any way by addictions. So many of the situations in this book seem hopeless, but as Brad so clearly points out, Christ is the solution and the only hope of man. As long as there is breath, there is hope!

  Scott Doherty

In Scourge, Brad offers us more than cold statistics or a cautionary tale. Instead, he offers us the solution - faith backed by action - to overcome this insidious problem Insightful and provocative, Scourge is a warning flag, guide post and rally to hope for all of us.

 Chad Chasteen

Men, Let Us Quit Holding Back

Modern drive-by ministry makes we want to vomit.

Okay, there. I said it.

The church ought to be challenging people. We ought to be calling ourselves to higher levels of service to accompany a deeper knowledge of the Lord. That’s not what seems to be happening.

Many churches behave as if they exist to afford you, the church attender, with the possibility of contribution with no sacrifice. Pay a bit of money, money that you can afford if we’re honest, and I’ll fly you halfway around the world to hand out water bottles with Bible verses on them to complete strangers that you’ll never see again.

Don’t forget the mandatory pic with some brown people for your social media account to confirm that you’ve been ‘on mission’.

I find no prescription for this in the Bible.

I find a prescription for community, for sending money, for church planting…

…and for adoption…all things that demand of you.

Guarded Affections

Let us dispense with the platitudes.

You keep some of yourself for yourself, as do I.

Whether it be time or resources including money—we reserve some of it for ourselves.

If I give all of my time to another, to anyone or anything, then I won’t have as much time left for myself as I’d like. We all wake each day with a predetermined idea about how we would like to spend our time. Some of you (us) jealously guard our time. We demand “me” time.

And if I gave all my money, I likewise wouldn’t have any left for myself. If I put my money toward anything other than me, then I’d have less to spend on, well, me. I may not be able to afford that new bass boat or Harley-Davidson. I may have to make do with my 2015 F250 and not be able to upgrade to that cherry 2019 Dodge Ram with a supercharged hemi.

If I give of myself too much, I may have nothing left for…me.

I can be generous. I have been generous. I’ll give to another. If a friend of mine has a need, I’ll be there, as long as that need corresponds with a convenient time for me. If a family member needs something, hey, I’ll be there, within reason.

Within reason…this is the universal caveat to much in the way of our generosity.

Don’t actually ask me to sacrifice.

The Kingdom

Isaiah likens the church to a tent.

As he prophesies about the growth of the church, he commands God’s people to stretch out the tent, to lengthen the ropes, to strengthen the stakes, driving them deep. As the tent is stretched, nearly tearing, those in desperate need of shelter can be pulled into the sanctuary of the tent where they find rest and protection. (Isaiah 54:2-3)

This is the kingdom of God.

This is the Church.

This is what happened to me. I was an orphan, Fatherless. Yet unknown to me at the time, the Father had set His affections on me in eternity past and one day nearly 14 years ago, He affirmed those affections and saved me, adopting me as a son of the Lord God on high, pulling me into the tent of His shelter.

I am His. For good. A son.

Now, imagine setting your affections on one in a similar manner, deciding to love them as your own, deciding to adopt, pulling them into the tent of your shelter. Sounds good until you start to notice how crowded it’s getting in that tent. Sure would like to have a bit more space for myself.

In the middle of the tent metaphor, Isaiah inserts this curious phrase, “Do not hold back.” (verse 2) “Spare not,” is another rendering.

Interesting that in the context of pulling orphans from their affliction, Isaiah feels led to exhort men to stop holding back.

He must know something we do not.

Truth

Fact: Adoption is a Gospel issue, not a social issue.

Okay, it is a social issue. Orphans never adopted suffer in life. Period. Homelessness, incarceration, addiction, pregnancy out of wedlock—pick an affliction and they almost all suffer it. Hardly any go to college and these are all real issues.

But the greatest issue is that they don’t know Jesus!

Scripture states it, reality bears it out. The most effective evangelist, by far, is a loving and engaged father. Children tend to inherit the faith of their fathers, or lack thereof. What of those who have no father?

Who will be the one to teach them about the Lord, to bring them up in the way so that when they are older, they will not depart from it? Will you be the one?

Scripture is intensely clear on the mandate for parents to make disciples of their children. What of the children with no parents to make them into disciples? The world and Satan will gladly make disciples of them, thereby relinquishing you of your obligation.

As we, men, worry about being inconvenienced, every year tens of thousands of children nationwide turn 18 and ‘graduate’ the system to a life of hopelessness. As we idly dither about with various trifling pursuits, thousands come of age and assuredly will never know the Lord.

But that Hemi sure is sweet.

More Truth

I cannot adequately describe the need. It is that vast.

I cannot adequately describe the cost. It is that vast.

Nothing will stretch you out more spiritually than bringing a child not your own, particularly an afflicted child from the system, into your home and loving them as your own. I have done nothing harder than foster and adopt my sons.

I have done nothing more valuable.

Preaching, teaching, evangelizing, ministering to my congregation: all take a back seat to the ministry of adoption. And I have my sons! I cannot imagine my life without them. Would I have left them to languish for the sake of my comfort or my standard of living? At one time, the answer would’ve been a resounding, ‘yes!’

Several years ago, I held two-month-old Max in my arms, begging God to take him from me.

I’m too old God. (I was 42)

I can’t do this God.

I don’t want this God!

But he wore me down, God and Max. As I pondered his solemn brown eyes, the still soft voice of the Holy Spirit whispered continually into my ear, “It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault.”

I crumbled like tissue paper.

Three years later, I am privileged to call this little guy my son.

Brothers, let us stop holding back. Your hemi will one day be no more. Your home will one day be a pile of rubbish. All that you lust after will all come to naught. The heart and soul of an orphan though, here is eternity.

Men, let us stop holding back…let us adopt.

Bradford Smith

Bradford Smith

Author - Founder

Soldier, Pastor, Author – Bradford stays busy, with his wife Ami, raising their 9 children, serving the nation, pastoring, preaching, and writing books (#3 is due out October ’17).

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This is a powerful read in a small book. The subtitle hits the mark with its description of, "A Biblical Treatise on Adoption." The author poses a challenge to the reader to stop reading the book upfront if the reader does not want to be moved to action.

   Janice S. Garey  

The call that sounds for the incredible need of emotionally and physically abandoned and orphaned children and one that when answered manifests the love of Christ.

  Anne Rightler

This book is a must read for anyone affected in any way by addictions. So many of the situations in this book seem hopeless, but as Brad so clearly points out, Christ is the solution and the only hope of man. As long as there is breath, there is hope!

  Scott Doherty

In Scourge, Brad offers us more than cold statistics or a cautionary tale. Instead, he offers us the solution - faith backed by action - to overcome this insidious problem Insightful and provocative, Scourge is a warning flag, guide post and rally to hope for all of us.

 Chad Chasteen

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