As Aimee pointed out yesterday, the LORD does act on occasion to teach us a lesson and my confidence that having only biological sons would protect me from having to be in touch with my more tender emotions has proved ill-founded. Of course, the great thing about being in the OPC is that the only emotions I have really needed to exercise are anger and righteous indignation. The ideal denomination for one such as myself. Yet by grace, the Mad Woman has indeed made me a better person.
Still, the basics of the dating game are fairly simple: Yes, one day, my "son", you may sit by my adopted daughter on the couch. When is that day? Well, why not pitch for the tenth anniversary of my death, assuming you live that long -- which on current odds seems somewhat unlikely. That would seem a mutually acceptable time, I think.
In the interim, I take Cromwell's advice to heart: I'll trust in God -- but, trust me, I keep my powder dry. Very dry.