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I’ve been giving some thought lately to words I don’t hear much
anymore. Some I’ve only heard, but some
I’ve used myself. I’m thinking of words
like “icebox,” “mimeograph,” “Kodachrome,” “transistor,” “curlers,” “HiFi,” “oleo,”
“phonograph,” and “floppy drive.” In
effort to avoid dating myself too precisely, I’ll tell you I’ve never used the
term “icebox,” but “floppy drive” is one I’ve seen both come and go.
Recently, certain experiences have caused me to think about
another word I don’t hear as often as I used to. That word is “redeem.” Most often, “redeem” is heard in a religious
context, but Green Stamps (and there’s another term we don’t use much anymore)
were “redeemed,” too. So what does the
word really mean?
According to the dictionary, to redeem is “to make something
better or more acceptable, to extricate from or help to overcome something
detrimental, to change for the better—reform, repair, restore.” I suppose trading a pile of Green Stamps for
something, for most anything, would definitely constitute a “change for the
better.” In theological terms, though,
“redeemed” or “redemption” has to do with being saved from sin or evil. That’s usually considered to be something
only God can do, but I really believe, at least in some circumstances, God
calls us to participate with him in the process of redemption.
The recent experiences I mentioned earlier have to do with
the arrival of our new grandson, Oliver.
Ollie is our first grandchild, and to say we’re excited wouldn’t even
come close. What’s been especially
remarkable, though, is to see the process of redemption at work in Ollie’s
young life. You see, Ollie is adopted, a
months-long process that was completed just this week. And in Ollie’s case, adoption has served as a
form of redemption, directed by God, but involving his birth mother, our
daughter and son-in-law, and even his grandparents and aunts and uncles.
The circumstances of Ollie’s birth family are complicated,
and what could easily have been a very difficult, even tragic, situation has
been redeemed. Oliver’s adoption has
unquestionably made a difficult situation something better—for him, for our
family, and, yes, even for his birth mother.
But none of that would have happened if everybody, anybody, along the way had refused God’s invitation to be part of
that redemption process.
My prayer for Ollie is that he’ll come to understand how God
has moved to redeem him through adoption.
Too, I pray that Ollie will come to understand that God’s redemption for
him is even bigger than physical adoption and that he’ll come to know God’s
spiritual redemption, as well. I look
forward to what is ahead, but, for the moment, we simply celebrate the process
of redemption that has brought Oliver Dean into our lives.
