At the risk of appearing to talk about myself a little too much, may I just make mention of the fact that tomorrow is my 62nd birthday!  Now, that isn’t necessarily a big deal, given that everyone has a birthday every year and, unless the Lord takes them Home, everyone will have a 62nd birthday eventually.

4 years old

4 years old

However, what makes birthdays, every birthday, a bit more special for me is knowing that for some reason, still unknown to me, I was rescued by the Lord.  Instead of being aborted, I was given the opportunity to live.  You see, I was adopted!

Fortunately, I was born during a time when Roe v. Wade was unheard of as well as was the idea of having a “choice” to murder an unborn child.  (Sorry if I offended you, but it is what it is.)  I was given up for adoption by a mother that I grew up believing loved me so very much that she was willing to allow someone else to raise and care for me because she felt ill-equipped to handle the job herself.  Looking back on it, my adoptive mom could have told me that story as a young child because, knowing her heart, she couldn’t have conceived of any other scenario, not being able to have children herself.  Or, perhaps they were similarly advised at the children’s home where she and Dad picked me up on that cool, late summer day in September, 1950.  Either way, I have always held a fondness for my birth mother because I’m sure it was the hardest decision she ever made in her life.  I honor her for the courage she had to choose life instead of other options she might have taken instead.

 

The way I remember the story of our first meeting, Mom and Dad were advised by snail mail I was available and they realized they only had 24 hours or so to come get me before the deadline date, after waiting at least two years to receive the good news.  They had absolutely nothing to start out with so they ran around like crazy people preparing my room, buying baby bottles and formula, diapers (the cloth kind since disposables had not yet been invented—yuck!), girl clothes, crib, and all the baby necessities.  Somewhere during this frantic buying spree, Dad arrived back at his parked car to find an officer writing up a parking ticket!  When apprised of the situation, the officer smiled and tore up the ticket, telling Dad, “Aww, go pick up your daughter and good luck to you!”   Soon, they were on their way, driving a few hundred miles from where they lived in Montana to Helena, the state capitol, to meet their new family addition!

The Three of Us

The Three of Us

 

 

After all the introductions, paper work, instructions, and so forth were completed, they jumped into the  car again (with me of course) for a few hour trip to visit the home of very dear friends to show off their new baby girl where they were to learn, quickly I might add, that they had a soggy “wet” baby in the back seat!  Neither of them had a clue how to change diapers, nor had they even given thought to the necessity of doing so as I had not made a peep to complain!  (I was such good baby!!)  Fortunately for me, their friends had several children and they were able to give them some good, solid, practical advice as to what to do next.

That was my introduction to my new family!  There are probably many more parts to that story that have long since been forgotten, but all in all I had a very blessed life with my adoptive parents.  God certainly knew what He was doing!  The only thing I remember wishing was that I could have had an older brother, but I am content that things worked out as they should have.

Years and years later though, simply walking home from work one day, God tugged at my heart.  An overwhelming realization came suddenly to my heart that I don’t ever remember consciously thinking about before that time.  Tears began to stream down my face as I began to understand the scope of the fact that I have been twice blessed!  Struggling over many years to fully understand and “feel” God’s love for me, these revelations came flooding in.  I not only was allowed to be born physically, but 18 years and 3 months to the day later was “born again” spiritually when I asked Jesus to be my Lord and Savior.  Then came another revelation!  I was adopted once physically, but God also adopted me into His family when I got saved.  Twice born, twice adopted.  Chosen by my parents, chosen by God.  Wow!!!!!

Please understand that all these references to me are not meant to be self promoting in any way.  I am incredibly humbled by all that has happened to me, but I share it all as my story, a testimony to the greatness of God in my life and to let you know that He is not a respecter of persons.  He loves and cares for you in the same way.  We may not share the exact same set of circumstances, but He is no less a loving Father to any one of you.  In the grand scheme of things, I am one of many, but we are all His children if we believe in, rely on and trust in Him and receive Jesus into our hearts as Lord of our lives.

My hope and prayer is that you can see yet another reason why we can have confidence in God as you have read my little story.  And, may I add, if you someday find yourself, or know of someone, in the same position as my birth mother, please, please consider adoption as a better course of action to take.  You never know whose life you may be sparing or the adoptive parents you may be blessing!  I can assure you that God’s heart will be blessed by your courage and sacrifice.