David Conant

Adopted Twice: The Story of David Conant

“David, we need to tell you something.”

He was six years old, sitting at the kitchen table with his legs swinging beneath the chair, too small to reach the floor. His parents’ voices were tender, yet heavy — the kind of tone that makes a child stop chewing, stop moving, and just listen.

“You’re adopted,” they said.

The words hit him like cold water. David didn’t know what it really meant, but he knew it set him apart. A storm began inside him that day — questions, longings, aches. Who are my real parents? Why didn’t they want me? Where do I belong?

Years passed, and the ache deepened. His adopted parents gave him love, sacrifice, and stability, yet the questions lingered. Identity was a puzzle he could not solve on his own. He carried the emptiness into adulthood.

November 18, 1981

“Man, I was a mess,” David recalls. “Garbage everywhere in my life.”

He had checked into rehab, desperate to claw his way out of a spiral. Addiction, brokenness, and despair hung heavy. That’s when two men walked into his room, their eyes alive with something David didn’t recognize.

“David,” one said, “have you thought about what’s coming? About the end of times?”

David gave a half-smile, half-scoff. “End of times? I’m just trying to make it through today.”

But the men didn’t condemn him. They didn’t shame him. Just urgent. Just hopeful. Before they left, they pressed a small invitation into his hands.

“You need to come to this concert,” they said. “It’s a Christian rock concert. You’ll see.”

David hesitated. He was still in rehab. Permission had to be granted, and someone would escort him. He wasn’t sure if he should go. But somehow, he felt the tug of something beyond himself.

The Concert

“I didn’t know what to expect,” David laughs now. “I’d been to concerts before — chaos, people trying to escape, smoke, drugs… nothing felt real. This was different.”

The stadium lights blazed. Music roared. Five thousand people filled the arena. When the preacher instructed everyone to bow their heads and close their eyes to pray, David froze.

“I didn’t want to close my eyes,” he says. “I was afraid I’d miss something. I wanted to take it all in.”

He looked around in disbelief. “I had never seen anything like that. Five thousand people… full of joy… singing, clapping, praying — and nobody high, nobody pretending. Just real joy.”

Beside him, the drummer — the same one from rehab who had encouraged him — leaned down. “David, just pray. Ask Jesus to take your life.”

David hesitated, then whispered a sinner’s prayer. He asked Christ to take the mess of his life and make it new. Immediately after, the drummer handed him a New Testament. “Here,” he said gently. “Read this. Let God’s Word guide you.”

David thumbed through the thin pages, awe-struck. That night, he left knowing something had changed forever.

Adoption That Healed

But the deepest wound in David’s life still lingered — the wound of being adopted. He had carried it since childhood.

One quiet night, he sat with the New Testament in his lap and opened to Romans 8. The words leapt off the page:

“You have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’”

Tears welled in his eyes. “Wait a minute… I’m adopted. By God.”

For years, adoption had felt like rejection. Now, through Jesus, he discovered it meant belonging. Identity. Love. He was not abandoned. He was chosen.

The Holy Spirit healed something deep within him. He picked up the phone and called his parents.

“Mom… Dad… you are my real parents. You sacrificed for me. You loved me. You’re my parents.”

On the other end of the line, there was silence, then tears. Six months later, his parents visited him. They went with him to the church where he was participating. David was embarrassed — his parents had never seen that kind of worship before. But they observed quietly.

Afterward, his mother said, “David… the transformation God made in your life — it’s not just in your heart. It’s even in your face.”

That moment carried a weight that words could scarcely capture. David had once dishonored them, even stolen from them. Now he was embraced, fully and completely.

Growing in the Word

After his conversion, a woman from church took David under her wing.

“You’re going to learn the Bible,” she told him firmly, Bible in one hand, notebook in the other. Week by week, she poured Scripture into his life.

In August of 2006, David walked into Our Redeemer Lutheran Church in San Diego. His mother had raised him in the Lutheran Church — Missouri Synod — and now his search for truth brought him back home. Under the teaching of Pastor Weber and the fellowship of the congregation, he found depth, grounding, and the gospel’s simple clarity.

“Keep it simple,” David says. “Just share the gospel. The Holy Spirit does all the heavy lifting.”

And share he did. He volunteered with We See You San Diego, served as an elder, and organized Saturday showings of The Chosen to spark conversations about Jesus. He soaked up Sunday School discussions and midweek Bible studies, eager to learn and ready to speak of Christ.

“I have no problem talking about Jesus,” he grins.

Ruby: A Proverbs 31 Wife

Through all the ups and downs — from rehab, spiritual struggles, health challenges, and the demands of ministry — David was never alone. By his side was his wife, Ruby.

“She’s been my rock,” David says with a smile. “I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

Ruby embodies the Proverbs 31 woman: strong, wise, and faithful. She has supported David in prayer, encouraged him in ministry, and reminded him of God’s promises when he felt weary. She rejoices in his victories, comforts him in battles, and invests in the family and community alongside him.

David reflects, “She’s done all this quietly, faithfully, with so much love. She’s the kind of partner who makes the Gospel real in everyday life. I can focus on serving, knowing she is faithfully holding the home and our hearts together.”

Ruby’s presence reminds David daily that the God who adopted him also placed him into a family of love and partnership — a tangible picture of God’s faithfulness in human relationships.

Battles and Mission

But life hasn’t been easy. Years in the Navy left David with serious health challenges — lung problems, tumors, asthma, pneumonia. Since 1997, the VA has managed his care. Monthly shots keep him steady, but it’s always a battle.

“That’s the devil’s attack,” he says plainly. “Spiritual warfare. If I focus on my circumstances, I’m lost. So I focus on Christ, and on helping other people.”

Recently, David learned about the growing military ministry in San Diego — partnerships between CRU Military, local churches, and Lutheran volunteers serving bases. When the Lutheran Mission Society San Diego invited him to join, David prayed, talked with his pastors, and said yes.

“It was a blessing,” he recalls. “At the Marine Recruit Depot, thousands of recruits — hungry for God — asking for help, sharing, and accepting the gospel. One Muslim came and said, ‘I want to leave Islam and follow Jesus.’ I shared the gospel with him, and he accepted it!”

Adopted and Sent

From the ache of a six-year-old boy who wondered if he was truly wanted, to the assurance of a man who knows he is chosen by God — David Conant’s story is one of adoption.

Adopted once by loving earthly parents. Adopted again, eternally, by his heavenly Father through Jesus Christ.

And now, as a missionary in San Diego, David shares that same message with others:

“You are not forgotten. You are not abandoned. In Christ, you are adopted. You are loved. You are His.”

This coming Sunday, Pastor Dave Weber and the congregation of Our Redeemer Lutheran Church will host a special sending prayer for David, recognizing his call to evangelize and intercede and sending him with their blessing and support. A life once fractured, now fully embraced — and sent to bring the same hope to others.