By Jordyn Glaser
“The Life Letters” is an ongoing series aimed at encouraging and inspiring parents – whether foster, adoptive, or biological – and all pro-life readers. Oregon Right to Life, a non-sectarian, single-issue pro-life organization, welcomes guest contributions from pro-life advocates from many faith backgrounds who wish to share their stories and insights upholding the value of every human life.
(Oregon Right to Life News) — As I’ve shared in previous Life Letters articles, our family has two sets of what the adoption community refers to as “artificial twins.” Our oldest sons are seven months apart, and our youngest two children are only five months apart. As you can imagine, this family dynamic can lead to all sorts of mischief and general mayhem.
When Esme and Abel were three years old, they had fully arrived at the stage of childhood when they were both unreasonably adorable with wide brown eyes and little round faces—they had also successfully discovered how to function as a tiny team of chaos.
One afternoon, I made the mistake of accomplishing a few much-needed chores around the house while Esme and Abel contentedly played together in the other room. I wiped down the kitchen, folded a load of laundry, and even took the time to pay a few bills. Just as I was wrapping things up, I realized I had not heard or seen the kids for a questionable stretch of time. I quickly entered the playroom where I had last left them, only to discover it was abandoned. I froze and listened for clues to where they might have gone next.
The bedrooms were empty.
The backyard was undisturbed.
The closet doors remained tightly closed.
Lastly, with an extra sense of urgency, I went to search the bathroom.
As I stepped over the threshold, my eyes first landed on Esme and Abel, who were circled around the toilet, giggling like miniature witches brewing potions around their cauldron. Fully dreading what I might find, my eyes next shifted to what the cackling pair were brewing. To my dismay, I gazed upon all of my makeup sinking to a watery death at the bottom of the toilet bowl.
Silence Does Not Mean Inactivity
As I discovered that fateful afternoon, silence does not mean inactivity. And just as my children were busy working in the quiet—so is God. Just because we might not be able to see the work He is doing does not mean He is inactive, or even worse, that He is absent.
If we look to history, we can see that God is always working and moving even if we do not fully understand the plan. The space of time between the Old Testament and the New Testament in the Protestant Bible is referred to as “400 years of silence”. But when we dig a little deeper, we see that God was using this so-called “silence” to prepare the way for the Gospel. In those 400 years, Alexander the Great conquered most of the known world and instituted “Hellenization,” meaning everyone adopted the Greek language and culture. This common language would be a key factor in spreading the Gospel. Next, the Maccabees came and cleansed the temple and restored Jewish worship. This rekindled the people’s longing for the promised Messiah. Lastly, the Romans came and constructed roads as routes for moving armies and transporting goods. God would use this very infrastructure to spread his message.
Then, just when the time was right (Galatians 4:4), the New Testament opens with the birth of Christ. This was not a time of inactivity; it was a time of preparation.
Yet somehow we mistakenly label it as a period of God’s “silence”.
We Carry On
More than 2,000 years later, why is this history lesson valuable to us now? Because there are many times in the struggle against our current culture when we feel like God is silent. The work can become overwhelming, and politics can feel disheartening. But just as I discovered from my sweet, mischievous children—a lot can be happening in the quiet. So what does this mean for us?
It means that we carry on.
We continue to work wholeheartedly for the unborn. We advocate for children in foster care. And we actively support adoption. In other words, we keep faithfully doing the work God has already called us to. Just as He was laying the groundwork during those 400 years before Christ, God is working now. We cannot discredit the work that needs to be done today, even when we don’t see the results we want.
The good news in all of this is that culture does not change God’s sovereignty. No matter who is elected into the current government, God is still on the throne. We can trust that even when the world feels dark, God is not inactive, and he is definitely not absent.
So let us continue to fight for what is right, because the story isn’t over yet.
Let us continue to speak up for the voiceless and defenseless.
And let us continue to do our part—having full confidence that God is already doing his.
