There are some who would say that there is something wrong with adopted children, something that their biological mother sensed, and so she gave up the child. Even God agrees. The bible says humans are sinful and wicked, and are adopted as sons to be holy and blameless in his sight. Adoption is something that happens to the sinful and wicked.
In my case, my biological mother, Diana, remembers nothing of her childhood due to abuse. She had even forgotten she had me until I wrote her. I was the product of premarital sex – a bastard – grafted onto the GLC tree of righteousness. Nourishment came from the tree, but my grafted branch would only bear the wicked fruit of the original tree.
From Diana I was adopted into a cult of sorts. My parents never lived or worked a day in the secular world. I was not adopted into a conventional conservative family who voted for Nixon and followed the ten commandments. I was adopted into the ranks of GLC leadership. The liturgy is harsh, and the theology is fierce.
The wicked fruit showed up for me in my contemplative nature. When I was about 10 we went camping where the park played a cartoon on evolution. From one generation to the next the creatures changed from fish to frogs to ground hogs to humans. The idea clicked for me, and I was sold on it. Back at our campsite, my parents lectured on the errors in the movie: God had created each species individually, and in only seven days. I contemplated. I had to admit I believed in evolution. Why would my parents deny something so clearly true? If I believed in evolution, was I still a Christian? Was I still saved? I pretended not to believe and asked for forgiveness for my wayward brain. But I couldn’t stop my brain. It was the wicked fruit.