A New Beginning...

This is the 4th installment of a series I'm writing about being found by the child I placed for adoption. If you missed the previous entries you can check them out here, Entry One, Entry Two and Entry Three.

As we talk on the phone and text I see the similarities between us. There is no mistaking it, she is my daughter. We share more than just hair color and fair skin, we are alike in so many ways it floors me. She is amazing in every way to me. I feel like I’ve known her all along which is strange because we’re just getting to know each other and there is much about her I’ve yet to discover. I wonder if she feels the same about me?

From the very beginning when she found me she expressed an interest in meeting in person. I am so relieved by this. For years when I would daydream about what it would be like to be found I had the fear that it would only be to find out what her medical history was and that would be all. When she actually did find me the reality of it was something I never dared to let myself imagine. She wants us to be a part of her life. She wants to be part of our lives. Sometimes I can’t believe how incredibly blessed I am. This feels like a miracle.

We have planned a trip to meet not only her and her husband, but the wonderful people who raised her. How amazing is that? Such love and selflessness has surrounded this child as she grew, I can hardly wait to meet the people who raised her. They must be amazing too. In 8 days, just slightly over a week, Monkey and I will load up and drive down to see her! The anticipation I feel is so intense sometimes I find myself just tapping my foot anxiously as if that will speed up time. This is not just a trip, it's the beginning of a journey she and I will take together.

And while there is the anticipation and joy, I'm a little nervous about it as well. I pray that she will like me. I pray that Monkey will do well on the trip. I pray that any fear and nervousness felt on the part of her and her family will be eased. I pray...

This is a new beginning…

Contact...

This blog entry is part 3 of a series. If you missed Part One or Part Two you can check them out so this makes sense.

 

It was a normal Friday in January. I was just working. Little did I know my entire life was about to change.The email was hidden among tons of spam in an account I rarely used. I was checking for a shipping notice. There it was. My breath caught. My heart skipped a LOT of beats. I burst into tears. Her name was in the subject line. When I opened it I read the following…

Hello,

I was born Becca Christine ___ in ___ 1987 in _____ AL. I am doing research on my family history. The name Margie Ann ___ has come up in some records. I am curious if you may be able to provide me with any information. If you can help me in any way, I would love to hear from you. If not, please disregard this email, and I apologize for taking your time. Thank you.

___

The first thing I did was check my clock. It was 12:11pm.  This was in the 12-12:30 window I have to call my husband at lunch, so I called him. We both cried. He asked what I had done and I said, “I called you!!!” We talked briefly and I replied to the email.

Hello _____

I would be happy to speak with you. My cell is ___-___-____. I look forward to hearing from you.

Ann

She called at 12:32pm. We talked for 2 hours. We cried, we laughed, and she told me she loved me. That is the thing. She loved me, she LOVES me.

My fears were washed away and I was filled with a peace I’ve never experienced before. This child I loved so dearly, completely, she loved me too. I’m so filled with gratitude to her parents. They told her that I loved her. The letter had been lost in a move but they made sure that she knew she was loved by me. They made certain she was secure in who she was and who she is in Christ. They did what I couldn’t; they raised her to be an amazing woman.

We’ve talked or texted every day since. I look forward to seeing her name on my phone. I look at her pictures and can hardly believe it’s real. It’s like a dream I’m having that is so good I’m afraid I’ll wake up and find it was only a beautiful dream. But each morning I wake and she is still really a part of my life. I feel complete now. Have you ever had an ache or pain that was there for such a long time you become accustomed to it? Then the pain is suddenly gone and the relief is overwhelming. That is the only way I can describe this feeling. I walked around for 25 years with a hole in my heart and now it’s filled.

Good bye is not forever...

This is the second installment of the blogs I'm writing about the child I had as a teenager and put up for adoption. To read the first in the series you can follow this link.

When the day came for Becca Christine to make her grand debut it was bittersweet. The nurses weren’t exactly kind after they heard I was giving Becca Christine to another family. They discouraged me from holding her and didn’t want to even allow me to see her but knowing that my time with her was extremely short I soaked her in. This child was mine for a few days, I counted her fingers and toes the same way all moms do, I kept her with me as long as I could and I memorized her little face. The way she would suck her bottom lip in when she was ready for her bottle, the way she would yawn sleepily after she burped and was ready to nap, how impossibly  light blond her hair was, her eyebrows almost invisible from the fairness of them, the weight of her in my arms. Beautiful. Perfect. Heartbreaking. But much like Hannah had promised Samuel to God, I’d promised God to give Becca Christine to the family we’d chosen and trust that He would protect her. Words cannot describe the pain of saying goodbye to this child I loved so completely. I handed her to the social worker, wrapped in the blanket I made for her, along with the letter I wrote to her explaining why I did what I did and telling her I hoped one day she’d find me.

Soon after that I had to meet with her father to sign the papers. I hoped against hope that he would change his mind when I showed him her picture. But as I have come to learn in life, you don’t always get what you want. I never saw her father after that day. I have no idea what happened to him. He left town and no one ever heard from him again. I wonder if he hurt as badly as I did…I hope not. I loved him. This was about 6 weeks after she was born. Alabama gives the birth parents 6 weeks to change their mind. I went to court and finalized the adoption.

Utter despair set in. Although I knew that she was fine, she was loved, she would have everything I couldn’t give her, I felt guilt about it. Then I felt shame. When I went home no one wanted to talked about her. No one wanted to hear me speak of how perfect she was or how much I missed her. I was told that if I just put it out of my mind the pain would go away. They were wrong. The pain just shifted from a piercing sharp pain in my chest to a dull ache in my entire being. It didn’t go away. I did stop talking about her. But I never stopped thinking about her. I’d see a blond girl with a brunette mother and my heart would clench, was it her? I’ve lived that for 25 years. All the questions that resurfaced…Did she know she was adopted? Does she know how much I love her? Does she blame me as being selfish? Did she think I gave her up easily? Did she know I agonized over it?

The guilt and shame I felt for giving her up persisted. There is a stigma I suppose to giving one’s child to another to raise. I experienced it with some of the nurses at the hospital. It reinforced those feeling. Once at a conference I opened up to someone about giving her up for adoption. It wasn’t easy bearing my soul to anyone. I was trying to comfort this woman who couldn’t have children and reassure her that there are babies for her to love, don’t give up. She accused me of being selfish and a horrible excuse of a mother. I didn’t talk about it again for a very long time. Still, wherever I went I wondered about her, prayed for her, her mother and father, brother, the man she’d eventually marry, I wanted her to have all of God’s blessings on her life.

Over the years young women who find themselves “in trouble” have made their way to my doorstep. Strange how this happens since I was never really open about what happened with us. I always counsel them to consider this; their temporary “inconvenience” isn’t worth stealing the entire life from someone else. There is someone out there who shares my DNA that is prayerfully living a good life, blessing others, making a difference in this world because I chose to give her life. Even though ending that life would have been a “quick fix” for me, it would have ended someone’s entire future and I would never have the hope of a reunion one day. I’m so grateful to say that because of the road I’ve walked others have made a choice for life and there are some beautiful children out there who are living God’s plan for them. So, I’m thankful for the tears. They were the water that grew the seeds that developed into a small ministry for unwed mothers.

As the years went by and Becca Christine turned 18, 19, 20,  I thought I was prepared for the possibility that she might find me. I wouldn’t try to find her. I didn’t want to cause her any pain. But I wanted desperately to be found. I made sure that my entire maiden name was on my facebook account so I was easily located. It was on January 11, 2013 when I just happened to check the email for my fb account (I no longer use it because of all the spam). I hadn’t checked it for weeks. On the first page of the account there was message titled, Becca Christine…

Decisions

I’m going to tell you a story. It’s a story that is true; it is part of my story. I haven’t told many people about it because it is full of pain, guilt, tears and shame. It is also full of hope, sacrifice and love. I pray God uses this story to touch your heart in some way.

It was the most agonizing decision I had ever faced. The pregnancy test was positive. Instantly, I fell in love with this life living inside me but I was just a teenager. Things weren’t “ideal”. I didn’t know what to do so I went to tell my boyfriend the news. I’d hoped he’d be happy. I’d hoped, secretly, deep down that he would say, “Marry me.” And we’d get married, have this baby and live happily ever after. That didn’t happen. I was given a choice. Keep him or keep the life inside me. This is the story of the choices I made.

When I was just a little girl I had some bad things happen to me. I’ve written about that before. Here is the  link to that entry. It’s not really central to this story except to note that the person I wrote about lived not too far from my parents home so living there was not an option. I really didn’t have many options. I hadn’t finished my education so there were no means to support the child financially; I lived not far from a dangerous man that preyed on innocent children.  As the months passed, my stomach swelled, it became painfully clear a decision needed to be reached. This child, daughter they told me, deserved to be safe, happy, safe, loved, safe, provided for in ways I was unable to do, because in many ways I was still a child myself.

I began to pray for this girl, I called her Becca Christine, and I prayed for her to have the kind of life I had not had the opportunity to have. Not that my life is bad, in retrospect, I made poor choices, had some choices made for me, and still God has worked them out just like He promises in Romans 8:28. But the life that was growing inside me was special. I couldn’t take any chances that she’d become the victim of someone else’s selfishness. Including my own.

I came to the decision that what was best for her was to be given up for adoption. As I looked into the whole adoption process I realized choosing the family for my precious angel would be much harder than I imagined. So many of them, wonderful, young couples, desperate for a child, had no other children. And as I thought of my big sister who was my defender while growing up, my confidant, my best friend, a thought was formed inside me. Becca Christine would need a sibling. I didn’t want her to be lonely. I couldn’t imagine being an only child so I couldn’t imagine it for her.

I moved to Prattville, AL and enlisted the services of Agape, a Christian crisis pregnancy/adoption center. They helped me through the pregnancy and provided a place for me to stay. They were wonderful. Never pressuring me to choose either way, just there for me, praying for me and being supportive. They came to the home where I was staying and brought piles of folders. I looked through the stacks of prospective parents and they pretty much looked the same, until one popped out to me. They had a child already. A boy, 5 years old, and I felt a nudging from God that this was the family for her. She’d have a big brother. And from how I viewed things she wouldn’t be a practice child for a couple who’d never had one and she’d have a big brother to look out for her.  The decision was made. 

Looking back 25 years from where I stand today I have one emotion that stands out from the others. Thankfulness. I'm thankful for the good decision God led me to make. I'm thankful for the good family that raised my beautiful child. I'm thankful I survived the pain to be made whole.

A Father's Love

Last week God did an amazing thing for me. The Maker of the Universe spoke to me through a woman I’ve never met that lives in Kampala, Uganda. This is what happened.

On Thursday I received a private message on FaceBook that said, “Hi sweetheart. Was praying before going to bed and as I started lifting you up in prayer, the Lord kept showing me Isaiah 49:1-end. I read it thru after praying and am asking that you read that whole chapter and claim every promise that is there and ask Him to show u a deeper revelation of what He is saying.”

I began to meditate on this Scripture and one of the verses spoke to me deeply, I have been praying for the salvation of my adult son. The New Living Translation says in Verse 25, “But the Lord says, “The captives of warriors will be released, and the plunder of tyrants will be retrieved. For I will fight those who fight you, and I will save your children.”

That leapt off the paper at me! When I read it I began praying for my son and asking God anew for his salvation. I felt a new hope well up inside me. I began to claim the promises and asking for more revelation regarding this message.

I’ve heard many people say that these promises are not for us today, that they were for the Israelites only and in the Old Testament. I have faith however that God can do anything and He can use any verse of Scripture to speak into our lives and they can come from anywhere in the world! Even if we don’t really know them well or they don’t know us well.

Sunday morning my son went to the altar to pray. He accepted Jesus as His Savior! I’ve been praying for this for a LONG time! God knew He was going to be moving on my son’s heart this week and He also knew I was becoming discouraged with praying for him so Our Father reached down into my life to encourage me. Now I'm rejoicing that my son has given his life to a the only One who can save him, the One who gave His life and died for him and me. What a loving Father! What a loving Savior! Thank you Jesus †

Here's The Buzzzzzzzz

One day while sitting in church the Pastor was preaching and he said that we should ask the Lord for a new Biblical name. It didn’t really make a whole lot of sense to me because honestly I hadn’t been paying attention, my mind had been more on whether Monkey was behaving in Sunday School so I missed the whole why thing, but I bowed my head and said, “God, I’m not sure why he said we should do this but if You want to give me a new name then I want all You have for me so…uhhhh I’d like a new name please, if that is Your will? Thank you? In Jesus Name, Amen”. Can you tell I was unsure on the whole thing? And that was that.

On to the rest of the sermon, I WAS paying attention, although I don’t recall what it was about now because it was in 2009 and what happened next trumps what Pastor had to say anyway. I’m sitting on the 4^th row from the front. Amanda H. was in front of me to the right in the center. Hubby was to my left and in my right ear (which I’m 40% deaf in) I hear a faint whisper, “Deborah”. I got all hot and sweaty. My heart was racing. No one was next to me on that side, I looked. We were the only ones on the whole pew! I looked behind me. No one. Hubby asked if I was okay and I nodded yes. I’m thinking someone behind us named Deborah must have a loud husband. Again it happened, only this time it’s louder and in both ears but also in my head I hear, “I will call you Deborah”. I thought I would throw up right there. Deep in my heart I knew it was for me but I asked hubby if he said anything. Nope, okay. Did he hear anything? Nope. Am I okay? Because my face is pale and I look freaked out! I picked up the Bible and looked in the concordance and guess what? There IS a woman named Deborah in the Bible. God has decided to rename me that. So, that is my Biblical name, I still go by Ann because it’s easier than telling people…well…this! But on my pray Shawl in Hebrew I have the name Deborah embroidered on the case.

I try to be completely transparent with this blog so I have one more confession to make here. Listening to the rest of Pastor’s sermon that Sunday morning was one of the hardest things I’ve EVER done because after God speaks something like that to you even listening to an anointed man of God preach an interesting sermon is difficult! All I wanted to do was devour the book of Judges! I’d never read it and knew nothing about her so I was itching to get home and dive in!

I’ve looked up why one would ask for a new name and here is what I’ve come up with.

1.      It changes your standing with God. Like Jacob (supplanter or deceitful) to Israel (prosperous). So he went from deceitful to prosperous.

2.      It is a fulfillment of a promise. Sarai (princess) which was a promise to Sarah (mother of multitudes) fulfillment of the promise.

3.      It indicates a change in the direction of the life of the one whose name has been changed. Saul’s name was changed to Paul.

So while my name change is only symbolic I believe it has impacted every area of my life as surely as if I had gone to the court house…

The name Ann means God favored me. I like that, He has favored me. He favored me so much He sent me Jesus Christ and THAT is favor.

Deborah means bee. How peculiar, my husband’s last name means keeper of the bees and my new name means bee…hmmmm?  You don’t mess with a bee. Bee’s sting and they can do quite a bit of damage but they also produce honey that is sweet and a little known fact about honey, it has no expiration date. Bacteria cannot grow in honey, it will never go bad. It is my sincere prayer that my works here on earth for Jesus Christ go on and do not “grow bacteria” so to speak. That I leave a legacy that will go from one generation to the next.

A Woman of Excellence

When we live busy lives there is so much pressure to live up to what we believe God wants for us. I’ve come to think that perhaps the pressure isn’t even so much what we think God wants for us but what others think of us. I know that when I first became a follower of Jesus there were classes offered all the time about the Proverbs 31 woman and how she was to be our “standard”. I think I nearly killed myself trying to do the things she did so I would be a “virtuous woman”. I mean seriously, she is held up as the standard of what all women should aspire to but have you really read Proverbs 31?

Here is a list of her accomplishments, read them and you tell me, do you measure up? I know I don’t!

1.      She had a wonderful marriage because she was an excellent wife and her husband was a wealthy man (has not need of spoil) because he could trust her to be thrifty. She has done her husband good all the days of her life. (I’ve known many women who are godly women and they live in a marriage that isn’t wonderful and it isn’t because they didn’t try! And what about those who don’t marry or are widowed?)

2.      She worked with her hands and created beautiful clothing for herself and family. She was a superior cook and not only fed her family but her maids as well. (HELLO!!! Do you have a maid? I don’t have a maid! But I guess this would be easier if I did have a maid. LOL! My point is this, I can’t sew, I am not a superior cook, but my family is dressed in clothes that fit and they don’t go hungry, my home is lived in. I never had anyone really teach me to clean until I was a grown woman so that is a struggle of mine, does this make me less virtuous?)

3.      She expanded her family’s property holdings and planted additional gardens. She was up before dawn and burned the candle long after dark. (Hmmm? I am up before dawn but it’s caring for a child with needs that most children do not have. I’m up frequently late at night taking care of Monkey as well. Now I’m losing my job I don’t expand our income either; does this make me a failure?)

4.      She cared for the poor and needy in her neighborhood. She had a thriving home business and made fine linen and sold it. (Some days it’s all I can do to make it from getting up to going to bed.  I help when I can but should I feel guilty about not doing more?)

5.      She was a wise woman and the law of kindness was in her mouth. Unkind words never spilled out toward her children or her husband. She must have possessed a great deal of patience. (I’ve been known to raise my voice to get Monkey’s attention, I am certainly lacking here. And the law of kindness, well, I went and listened to Beth Moore speak on this and I do strive for it but I fail so often I sometimes wonder why try.)

6.      She did not eat the bread of idleness. She was busy all the time and never took time for herself. Yet, she was serene and blessed of her children, and received her husband’s praises. (I don’t know about you but sometimes it seems no matter what I do it’s not enough…is it just me? And I know that sometimes if I can get out for a pedicure alone and have some grown up time I’m a much better mommy, does this make me selfish?)

She has been described as a woman of excellence, the one woman we should try and emulate, yet when I read her list of accomplishments and how revered she was by her children and husband I feel like a total failure! I am nowhere near the Proverbs 31 woman. I am about as far away from her as the east is from the west. I may as well throw in the towel now because I’m so far behind I won’t even reach the starting gate before the race is over.

Ever feel that way? I am being completely honest here, I feel like I have no worth when I compare myself to the woman of excellence. Ms. Proverbs 31, you make me feel like a failure.

Then my Father in Heaven reminds me not to compare myself to anyone else. It says so in II Corinthians 10:12, “For we dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves with some that commend themselves: but they measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise.” God will measure me. He will grow me at the rate he desires for me to grow. He will measure me by His perfect standard; after all, He knows my heart. He made me unique. I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  

Thank You Father for loving me so much You sent Your Son to die for me so I could be called Your daughter. I love you…