On a Sunday morning just prior to the pandemic, I went to church early to set up for communion. Upon completing my duties, I walked into the foyer. My wife was coming up the hallway toward me. “I have some news,” she said.

I’m adopted, and by this point in my life, my wonderful parents and my only brother had already left this earth. I had always wondered about my birthmother, and Leisa and I decided it might be time to search in earnest for her. So I took a DNA test and then began the laborious process of checking to see what matches cropped up. Well, she began that task. I was rather philosophical about it all. Maybe apprehensive is a better word.

We encountered nothing but frustration. I was okay with that. After all, God had placed me in an excellent family, and perhaps he wanted me to live with the mystery.

But now, on that day in the church foyer, Leisa had news. I had a first-cousin match. In Berlin, Germany.

I was American. How could that be?

When I got home from church, I could see from Beat Marti’s text message that he was totally surprised by this discovery as well. He said (in German), “How can we be related? Could this be a mistake?”

Within two hours we would know it was not a mistake. He called his cousin, who called her mother in Switzerland, who said, “Oh yes, there was an American woman. She had a relationship with your uncle. She went home to Michigan—pregnant.” This aunt of mine and her sister had loved my birthmom and had kept her address all these years even when their letters to her had gone unanswered.

As it turned out, I have seven siblings in Switzerland that I knew nothing of. I also had three sisters in Michigan. I even played ball in the same conference in high school with some of my cousins, though we don’t think we ever faced each other.

The point of this fascinating revelation is not that I found “my family,” because I grew up in my family. The point is that I discovered more of my family. I’m learning about myself, about my unusual origins, about my siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles. And I’m learning much, much more about our loving God, “the father to the fatherless,” who “places the lonely in families” (Psalm 68:5–6).

God has certainly done that for me. But he offers this sense of family—of community— to everyone. What follows is a brief look at how he does that.