Jeremiah 29:11"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you, not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future."
I feel like the story of my life is a story of God's perfect plan unfolding. That might sound a little over the top, but I will not deny the movement of God in my life ever since its beginning. However imperfect I am, I cannot deny the ways he has intricately woven the details of my life together.
My parents wanted a child. My mother is a child development professor and was born to be a mother (among other things of course, but "mother" towards the top of the list). For some medically unexplainable reason, they could not conceive and decided to pursue adoption instead of invasive medical procedures. I'm not sure how long they waited or how difficult the process of adoption was for them, but eventually they ended up with me. I was born on February 12th and they flew down to Louisiana to bring me home on February 14th.
Then my parents got their wish again (be careful what you wish for, right?) just a few short months after bringing me home when my mother found herself in a pregnant state. Barely 14 months after they brought me home, my little brother was born.
I can't even begin to imagine how hectic that must have been, since I don't have children yet myself. But brief glimpses into the lives of my friends with children (and some with twins) tell me that this period in my parents' probably felt more like hell than heaven some days.
Some years past, and when I was five years old, my mom and dad sat my brother and me down to announce that we were going to have a new addition to the family! I remember being shocked and scared having just eavesdropped on a nightly news show that reported women should not have babies after the age 35 because it was dangerous. My mother was 40 and I, being five years old, was terrified. (I also asked my mother at some point in my childhood if I had AIDS after hearing a news report - my parents probably should have stopped watching the news with me around.)
My first memory concerning Elizabeth was getting off the bus after a day at Kindgarden and my Bigdaddy (grandfather) meeting me at the bus stop. He asked me if I was ready to meet my little sister. I promptly replied, "I don't have a little sister."
But I did! And my brother and I spent the next 11 years torturing that poor child (and my parents along with her). And we wondered why she was such a little brat... Finally I went off to college followed the next year by my brother. After that, my sister really calmed down and we became great friends.
It's funny when you look at a family picture of us. Everyone would say that my sister is the one who was adopted (as my brother and I like to ponder out-loud in her vacinity). She has blonde curly hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. My brother and I are both dark-haired and eyed with tannable skin. My mom says we take after her while my sister takes after dad (and if dad still had his hair, I guess people would be able to tell). And when my sister and (especially) my brother like to try to disown me and exclude me from the "family fortune," I like to remind them that I was the only child our parents "planned" and actually wanted from the get-go and I should therefore get it all. I believe that this quarrelling makes us just like every other "normal" family out there.
I had a friend in sixth grade tell me that she wouldn't like to be adopted. She felt that not knowing your "real" parents or your "real" brothers and sisters would be too weird. I found her comment to be stupid.
My family is a realization of how God is faithful in his promises. I feel sure that my biological mother's prayers were answered the day my parents came to Women's Hospital in Baton Rouge to bring me home. I feel that my real parent's prayers were answered that day as well. Theirs were anwered again on April 10th on my brother's birthday and then once again on June 5th on my sister's birthday. Granted, all of those prayers were answered in very different ways than any of the prayees probably expected but just like the verse from Jeremiah alludes, his plans are always good and they are always perfect. They may not be easy or what we expected, but they are divine. Just as the Bible says that God knit us together in our mothers' wombs, I believe he concurrently knits our families together in a perfect way to grow us into his plan.
In January 2007 I took a pregnancy test that read positive, much to my husband's and my suprise. That following week, before the pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, I wondered what it would be like to look at my child and see for the first time another person who shares my DNA. I still hope for that day, not because I feel a void in my life not knowing my biological relatives, but just because it's an unexplored territory in my life. I don't know if God has the fulfillment of that hope in his plans for me or not. Either way, I know that he will continue to provide me with a family, just like he always has.
I feel like the story of my life is a story of God's perfect plan unfolding. That might sound a little over the top, but I will not deny the movement of God in my life ever since its beginning. However imperfect I am, I cannot deny the ways he has intricately woven the details of my life together.
My parents wanted a child. My mother is a child development professor and was born to be a mother (among other things of course, but "mother" towards the top of the list). For some medically unexplainable reason, they could not conceive and decided to pursue adoption instead of invasive medical procedures. I'm not sure how long they waited or how difficult the process of adoption was for them, but eventually they ended up with me. I was born on February 12th and they flew down to Louisiana to bring me home on February 14th.
Then my parents got their wish again (be careful what you wish for, right?) just a few short months after bringing me home when my mother found herself in a pregnant state. Barely 14 months after they brought me home, my little brother was born.
I can't even begin to imagine how hectic that must have been, since I don't have children yet myself. But brief glimpses into the lives of my friends with children (and some with twins) tell me that this period in my parents' probably felt more like hell than heaven some days.
Some years past, and when I was five years old, my mom and dad sat my brother and me down to announce that we were going to have a new addition to the family! I remember being shocked and scared having just eavesdropped on a nightly news show that reported women should not have babies after the age 35 because it was dangerous. My mother was 40 and I, being five years old, was terrified. (I also asked my mother at some point in my childhood if I had AIDS after hearing a news report - my parents probably should have stopped watching the news with me around.)
My first memory concerning Elizabeth was getting off the bus after a day at Kindgarden and my Bigdaddy (grandfather) meeting me at the bus stop. He asked me if I was ready to meet my little sister. I promptly replied, "I don't have a little sister."
But I did! And my brother and I spent the next 11 years torturing that poor child (and my parents along with her). And we wondered why she was such a little brat... Finally I went off to college followed the next year by my brother. After that, my sister really calmed down and we became great friends.
It's funny when you look at a family picture of us. Everyone would say that my sister is the one who was adopted (as my brother and I like to ponder out-loud in her vacinity). She has blonde curly hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. My brother and I are both dark-haired and eyed with tannable skin. My mom says we take after her while my sister takes after dad (and if dad still had his hair, I guess people would be able to tell). And when my sister and (especially) my brother like to try to disown me and exclude me from the "family fortune," I like to remind them that I was the only child our parents "planned" and actually wanted from the get-go and I should therefore get it all. I believe that this quarrelling makes us just like every other "normal" family out there.
I had a friend in sixth grade tell me that she wouldn't like to be adopted. She felt that not knowing your "real" parents or your "real" brothers and sisters would be too weird. I found her comment to be stupid.
My family is a realization of how God is faithful in his promises. I feel sure that my biological mother's prayers were answered the day my parents came to Women's Hospital in Baton Rouge to bring me home. I feel that my real parent's prayers were answered that day as well. Theirs were anwered again on April 10th on my brother's birthday and then once again on June 5th on my sister's birthday. Granted, all of those prayers were answered in very different ways than any of the prayees probably expected but just like the verse from Jeremiah alludes, his plans are always good and they are always perfect. They may not be easy or what we expected, but they are divine. Just as the Bible says that God knit us together in our mothers' wombs, I believe he concurrently knits our families together in a perfect way to grow us into his plan.
In January 2007 I took a pregnancy test that read positive, much to my husband's and my suprise. That following week, before the pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, I wondered what it would be like to look at my child and see for the first time another person who shares my DNA. I still hope for that day, not because I feel a void in my life not knowing my biological relatives, but just because it's an unexplored territory in my life. I don't know if God has the fulfillment of that hope in his plans for me or not. Either way, I know that he will continue to provide me with a family, just like he always has.
