An Amazing Journey - Part 5 - Spring

 

 

Many months have passed since our initial answer of “no contact at this time” from Tay’s birthmother. It was difficult to accept this answer mainly because there wasn’t anything we could do about it. When your heart is wounded, it does take some time to heal. I visualize the inner workings of a clock with various wheels turning to make the hands move just a tiny bit. This episode was like someone stuck a piece of wood inside one of the wheels of Tay’s heart and time stopped for that moment; now the wheels were turning again and life with all its demands was happening around us and ever so slowly the heartache dulled. God can heal a broken heart and it was our prayer during February and March that Taylor Anne would feel the Balm of Gilead and the tender loving spirit that God had put in her heart would continue to shine, regardless of the circumstances around her.  We had made a decision not to look for her birthfather at this time.   We felt Taylor Anne's heart had taken enough during these past few months and for her own mental health, waiting a few months to figure out this piece of the puzzle seemed logical to us.   Taylor Anne seemed content and peaceful, satisfied with answers and looking to the future.  During the cold winter months, with trees naked and barren, the ground brown and gray, we forget that deep inside the hardened ground and inside the lifeless trees, there’s a work stirring, preparing for spring. Little did we know that God had been working and preparing what we thought was barren ground to bring forth life.  An early spring was about to bloom in Taylor Anne’s life right before our eyes. On March 22, Taylor Anne called from school and I could tell by the “Mom” word that something was about to erupt. “I just found a private facebook message to me written January 26 two days after my birthday from someone who wrote a birthday greeting and in it he mentioned ‘I may be your uncle.’ What should I do?”

Eighteen years ago when our adoption of Taylor Anne occurred, I gave much thought to the birthmother and the birthfather and this very difficult decision to carry a baby to full term, knowing you are going to give this baby to someone else. What I never gave much thought to (and I say that with a broken heart), was the possibility that there may be a set of grandparents that are about to lose their first grandchild. Adoption is a beautiful way for a family to come together but it does have two faces. We were on the joyful end, celebrating the arrival of our daughter, but on the other end was a separation, the losing of a granddaughter; thoughts of her that continued for 18 years. Taylor Anne’s grandparents loved her from day one just because she was their granddaughter. They loved her and their hearts ached. Dreams were beginning for one family while dreams were ending for another. Her grandmother bought a stuffed bunny toy that was never played with. Her grandfather would call the attorney in charge of the adoption each year for her first four years to check on her well-being. Each January was a difficult month for them. They could not do anything for their granddaughter humanly speaking, except pray for her by name. Praying grandparents, expecting nothing in return, is really quite a remarkable heritage, hidden from Taylor Anne through her first 18 years. Only God in eternity will be able to show us what these prayers meant throughout her life. They may have done more in these 18 years behind the scenes than most grandparents do who get to see their grandchildren. Sometimes the “winter” season dwells within you, taking up residence in your soul. Even though you experience joys, happiness, and successes, “winter” in your soul reminds you that your heart still yearns for something and in this case, it was a granddaughter who they believed they would never know this side of eternity. They had no idea that “spring” was coming and it would be more beautiful than they could ever imagine.

"Do not do anything with that message” was my reply to Taylor Anne. “We don’t know who this person is and everyone who reads your facebook can figure out that you’re adopted. That isn’t a secret.” This person didn't ask for us to contact him; however, with the current path we were already on, it made perfect sense to investigate this.  We decided to turn this over to our counselor friend who had made the contact with Tay’s birthmother. I wanted to protect Tay’s privacy and more importantly her heart. Taylor Anne is so patient relying totally on us as her parents to guide this process in the right way. She doesn’t want to see pictures of her birthparents so it’s not been a temptation for her. I, on the other hand, did what any other mother of a beautiful daughter would do, opened every picture, read every posting and searched every friend of this person’s facebook page.  When I realized that just possibly this may be her birthfather’s family reaching out to her, I cautiously rejoiced that her longing of being connected to her birthfamily may be within reach.  They had no idea that she had this great desire and this message would begin unraveling some of the mystery around her family.  Why now?  Why not now? I have to believe we were seeking and praying and God was at work behind the scenes.

Out of love for their granddaughter, they didn’t “follow” or “search” for her for the next several years. They wanted her to have a life, uninterrupted, not torn by different affections for people who should or should not have rights to her. But still, in the background, they loved her and prayed for her. About 3 years ago, they googled my husband’s name, wondering if we were still in the same location. Our church website came up and then they could see their sweet granddaughter had grown into a beautiful young lady. They observed very respectfully and prayerfully as they in no way wanted to intrude upon her life and cause any emotional distress for her. More recently, their younger son could see they had much in common. They had both gone to India within a month of each other last summer on mission’s trips and that in itself was incredible that they shared their love for this country. Although all of their hearts ached for contact, they continued to do what they had done for nearly 18 years, give her back to God and pray for her. That is until, two days after her 18^th birthday. Her uncle decided it was time to send a message. Her grandmother never wanted her younger son to write to Taylor Anne. Did Taylor Anne even know she was adopted? Could they be opening a door that would cause confusion for her? She had much fear anguishing in her heart for her granddaughter who she wanted to see. After all, they had no idea if their granddaughter would even be interested in a relationship with people she did not know. It was a risk for all of them to reach out, but the uncle felt like they needed to know either way. When the message was sent, they eagerly awaited a response back. A month went by without a word (because Taylor Anne didn't see the message for two months) and they sadly knew they had the answer they didn’t want, or at least, that’s what they thought. It was still winter, but spring was coming.

So, almost two months after this message had been sent and now seen by us, our counselor sent two private messages back. They were simple messages to contact the counselor directly. After two weeks of not hearing a response, I began to believe that maybe this person could have misrepresented something; maybe no one was interested in meeting Taylor Anne. Facebook private messages can sometimes be difficult to see, especially if you are not communicating directly with a “friend.” Messages are not put into your “inbox,” but rather the “other” folder that most people don’t know exists. I wasn’t willing to be satisfied with no answer. We had come too far and had too many questions unanswered. I spent some time “researching” this person, digging up through the internet his last available addresses, all his relative’s names, really searching for a home address and possibly a home phone that our counselor could reach him. I never came up with a firm home phone which is typical today. I decided that our counselor should send an email to a pastor from the church that was on his facebook page. From there it was less than a few hours and finally I was talking directly to them. Spring was blooming not only in our beautiful city but in the lives of these precious grandparents and uncle who were about to receive a beautiful bouquet of a relationship with their granddaughter and niece. They had no idea that God had already been working in her heart, even as a little girl, creating a love for people whom she had never knew, yet longed to meet.

When I picked up Taylor Anne from school that day I relayed to her that "we have great news but it's not perfect" that God had answered some of the desires of her heart.  I felt the first call needed to be to her uncle. Through her tears, she softly spoke, “hello uncle… this is Taylor Anne” and I could hear through tears on the other end, “my sweet beautiful niece…” They finally got to talk. Later Tay was in the car with Jimmy holding his hand, when she called her grandmother for the first time, after minutes of sobbing and talking, Taylor Anne asked,“is it okay if I call you all Memaw and Papa?” Do you think there were any objections? Papa called her a few hours later to talk to “his girl”. Taylor Anne’s heart was so full of how God had put this together: grandparents who loved and prayed for her for 18 years and so yearned to see her and not miss out on anything else and her uncle who cared for her and felt compelled to reach out.  Spring had finally come and this gift was given to all of them from a God who so quietly worked in the background to bring these lives together.

Now to get them all together (and believe me it didn’t take long!), that’ll be the subject of another day! (and about that "great news, but it's not perfect," this news may be the beginning of completing her longest desire).

No Evolution, No Cussing, No Baggy Pants

Friday, April 3, 2009 at 5:44pm
Driving through the countryside of rural Waxhaw, NC, I came upon a small marquee of a church that usually has one of those pithy sayings. Most of the sayings that I remember have "creepy crawled" to the countryside appearing as if some new revelation has been revealed. Remember “Church is a hospital for sinners...Not a museum for saints”; or “If you stand for nothing, you'll fall for anything?” Well the marquee that I saw last weekend was one that I had never read before. It simply said “No Evolution, No Cussing, No Baggy Pants.” At first glance, we might smile and somewhat agree especially if our religious roots go deep into the ground. These three phrases have been rolling around in my mind all week sort of like a cow chewing on its cud which is regurgitated at least three times before finally digested. I just can’t digest these phrases. Although probably unintended, my translation of these “rules,” are:1) No Evolution – If you don’t believe the same as us, then keep on going.2) No Cussing – If you don’t talk the way we do, then keep on going.3) No Baggy Pants – If you don’t dress the way we do, then keep on going. My translation could also include no thinking, no discussing, and no disagreeing and by the way, no entering without proper attire. And, if our religious roots go deeper, we might translate this not only to the front door of our churches but it could be written on our heart’s front door as we move through the week and encounter people. We may find ourselves contained within our “holy huddles” at church and throughout the week, “safe and pure” obeying the rules. Christ had a lot to say about “holy huddles” that obeyed rules and regulations and looked down on others. So now I have a new mantra as I encounter people this week in my neighborhood, workplace, fun places and also at our church:1) If you don’t believe the same as me, welcome. I’d love to listen.2) If you don’t talk the way I do, welcome. I’d love to converse.3)If you don’t dress the way I do, welcome. I’d love to learn why.The commandment “Love your neighbor” doesn’t come with conditions that the neighbor needs to meet prior to receiving my love and acceptance. It makes me wonder what other criteria that I may mentally use to unfairly judge others and cause them to keep on going without stopping.