Licensed for Trouble

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Licensed for Trouble Page 28

by Susan May Warren

Then she launched herself again at Bix, flattening her to the ground.

  Not necessarily a practiced move, but a good PI improvised, too.

  And in case she needed help, Dog ran up, barking wildly, slurping them both on the face.

  “Get away from me, you mutt!”

  “He’s not a mutt!” PJ said even as she flattened one arm into Bix’s neck, twisting her hand into a submission hold.

  “Ow!”

  Thank you, Jeremy Kane school of martial arts.

  PJ looked at the dog. “You’re your own breed, aren’t you, Killer?”

  Dog slurped her again on the face. Sat down. Wagged his tail.

  Killer?

  No . . .

  “PJ!” Boone ran up. “What on earth?”

  “I’m making a citizen’s arrest—attempted murder and bail fugitive!”

  Boone stared at her with a look of half horror. Then a smile grew on his face. “Well, I guess you could say Turkey Lurkey got her girl.” Boone motioned to a couple cops working crowd control, then leaned over and cuffed the now-cursing Bix. Two cops came over and hauled her to her feet. PJ struggled to find hers.

  “Oh, funny. You could move faster, you know, Santa.” She let him pull her up.

  Jeremy came running over, out of breath. “Hey, that’s my girl you got there!”

  “And thank goodness.” Boone let her go even as he gave her a little wink. “Okay, everybody back now. There’s nothing to see.”

  “Nothing to see?” Jeremy said, dusting off her feathers, straightening her collar. His dark eyes shone, a message in them that went clear to her stuffing. “Oh, I think they haven’t seen anything yet.”

  Author’s Note

  I am adopted. It’s never been an issue for me. Whether because I had amazing adoptive parents who loved me, or perhaps because of my makeup as a person, it’s never been an open wound in my life. Still, growing up, the fact that I was different from my parents (especially in appearance—I had blonde hair; they were both dark-haired) didn’t escape me. Nor the fact that my personality seemed to be so much more out-of-the-box than my parents might have expected. As you can imagine, they put up with a lot of daydreaming! I always wondered if perhaps my birth mother was like me—someone who liked to laugh and embrace life and have fun with friends and live large and sometimes messy.

  For a long time, I only focused on the differences . . . until a friend spoke truth into my life. She said, “God changed the lineage and the makeup of your adoptive family line by putting you in it. It was meant for their good, as well as yours.”

  So in other words, God intended for my messy, exuberant, sometimes-creative personality to infuse a blessing into my adoptive family’s lives. As if God, knowing who I was and would be, added molasses to a batch of chocolate chip cookies. (Try it—nummy!)

  I love this idea.

  I have great respect for my birth mother. Having my own children, I now understand how it takes such selflessness and courage to give your child into the arms of another. I wanted to convey this idea through the Kellogg family—by giving PJ to the Sugars, they were giving her a new life and an opportunity to be a blessing to the Sugar line. But her personality was still Kellogg born, and while she’d been given a new name, she could be a unique mix of both.

  As I began book three, I also saw PJ wanting to become more than she was and yet unsure of how to get there, sometimes feeling trapped by the person she’d been, not sure how to synthesize the two.

  I think that Christians, despite the transforming power of God in our lives, can be trapped by who we were, the identities of our past. What does it look like to be adopted by God and then live today, with that new identity, in this world? It’s just not that easy.

  And if we’re adopted by God, what does it mean to be coheirs with Christ?

  If you’ll indulge me for a moment, I believe the answers are found through a journey of looking at who Christ is, a look at His Sonship. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus points out that He and the Father have a unique relationship. The Son and the Father are in close communion, so much so that if you’ve seen Jesus, you’ve seen God. God empowered Christ to do miracles, to obey, to live sacrificially. More than that, because of their relationship, God’s love for us poured out through Jesus, so much so that our entire destiny was changed.

  See, when Jesus appeared to Mary that third day, after rising from the dead, He passed on to us His unique and mind-blowing relationship with God, the Father. (John 20:17). We were no longer outsiders, but brought into the Kingdom, into the family. When we become Christians, our adoption changes us fundamentally. We are given a new identity as children of the King, with all that entails—access to our Father, all the Kingdom power on our side, God’s love transforming our lives so much that we could also impact our world. This is what it means to be a coheir; this is our earthly inheritance.

  The bottom line is, God gave PJ her inheritance not just for her but for the Sugars and Jeremy and Boone and Kellogg at large. What’s more, like Jeremy says, looking back into the past gave her life today meaning. She saw more clearly God’s mercy and grace and love. And she passed that on to those around her.

  If you have accepted Jesus’ payment for your sins and joined the family of God, then you’ve been given a new identity. You don’t belong to the past anymore. Let that new perspective change you, and may you spill out “a little sugar” into the world.

  IN HIS GRACE,

  Susan May Warren

  About the Author

  Susan May Warren is a former missionary to Russia, the mother of four children, and the wife of a guy who wooed her onto the back of his motorcycle for the adventure of a lifetime. The award-winning author of over twenty-five books, Susan loves to write and teach writing. She speaks at women’s events around the country about God’s amazing grace in our lives. Susan is active in her church and small community and makes her home on the north shore of Minnesota, where her husband runs a hotel.

  Visit her Web site at www.susanmaywarren.com.

 

 

 


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