I had not given much thought to the word “begotten” at the time Katie and I adopted two boys.
Just a couple of weeks before our daughter's first birthday we climbed the steps of the courthouse, and not-so-patiently waited outside the courtroom. Adoption was a decision we both knew was right, but that knowledge couldn’t work to suppress the nerves produced by our impending legal responsibilities.
Within the hour the gavel would slam the desk, and Katie and I went from having one child to three. The boys had been in our home for some time as foster children, but prior to that day, they were not legally ours. They belonged to others: first their birth parents, then the state. But on that day, the sordid DHS case was closed, marking the beginning of a new and challenging saga.
We were now a family of five: two adopted children, and Georgia, our only begotten.