Prologue: It is very easy to be someone we are not online, to sway the reader of a post in the way that you want, to present the facade that you want people to believe, in short, to pretend that your life is perfect. I often tell stories of happy outcomes in my writing, full of faith and assurance, and I fear sometimes that it is misleading. Because, of course, no life is perfect. On the contrary, life is messy, often chaotic, sometimes out of our control, and usually, at the very least, confusing. My life has been all of those things, probably more so than most, for a lot of reasons, some of them self-inflicted, even if unintentionally, and I don't try to hide that reality. But maybe that doesn't always come through.
The truth is, even for the most faithful of Christians, it is easy to question where on earth God is in all the difficulties that arise in every life from time to time, and I am no different from anyone else. I have always tried to be very careful about not telling other people's stories in my writing, because I value my own privacy, and I value the right of others to theirs. But I also think that sometimes it is only through the intersection of our story with that of others that we can truly see faith, and God, in action in our lives, and that is what I try to share in this blog, for better and for worse. So today I am going to take the liberty of telling a story that is really not my own, it is that of my parents and brother, although it dramatically affected my life, because it is a story of faith, and is one worth telling. I think they will forgive me, because it is ultimately a story of hope, love, and redemption.
Jeremiah 29:11 is one of my favorite verses in the Bible. It is so optimistic and hopeful, and I cling to it with both hands a lot of the time.
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Without a doubt, there are often times when it is hard to see where that future leads us and to maintain hope. Bad stuff happens to good people all the time, and it is all too easy to give way to doubts. My parents found themselves in that hard place 60 some years ago. They had just lost their third baby due to Rh incompatibility, and the dream of a second child was quickly receeding from their reach. After some serious soul searching, they decided to try adoption, and they contacted Lutheran Social Services.
My mother, literally the most optimistic and faithful person I have ever known, she can find something positive in the darkest of life's moments, was depressed and sad and hurting, but they pressed forward with the application, hoping this would be the answer. But after meeting with a social worker, they were turned down. The social worker told mom that she was not ready to adopt, that she needed to work through her grief first so that she was in the right place to take on that responsibility, and my parents were totally crushed. (I have never, until this moment, thought about whether my brother was aware of all this at the time. He was 11, so I guess he must have been. I will have to ask him his thoughts about the whole thing next time we are together!)
Anyway, my parents took their hurting hearts home, trying to accept this was just not God's plan for their lives, and to have faith that God had some meaning in all this pain for them. It must have been so hard to envision that God had something to prosper them and not harm them in that moment, because there was nothing but hurt and pain, and the future must have looked empty to them. There is a lesson about not being able to see the whole picture in the moment here, which I will come back to.
In the meantime, friends of theirs adopted a little girl through the state of Minnesota. They thought she was perfect, and they had such wonderful things to say about the social worker they worked with, a Mrs. Byrdie Overbay. Here, at last, was a sliver of hope. So they set up a meeting with Byrdie, and ultimately they went through the application process, including references and home visits and lots of meetings. They were, understandably, very fearful during the process, which took about nine months from start to finish (ironic, I think) and then they were waiting to see if God (and the State of Minnesota) had a child for them. There was one false start, they almost had another child placed with them, but Byrdie decided that child was not quite right. After all their hurt, she wanted to be sure she found the perfect child for them that would fit them to a T.
Right before Christmas 1961, December 23, if memory serves me correctly, they received a letter from the state requesting a meeting for December 27. They were panicked, thinking that they were going to be turned down. (I got to spend time with Byrdie as I grew up, and asked her about that letter. She told me it never occurred to her they would think that - she thought it was obvious that she had a baby for them!) What a long, hard few days for them, as they waited for what they thought would be the falling axe, only to find out she had found their long awaited daughter! Talk about swinging from the depths of despair to the heights of joy! I can't even imagine the emotions of that meeting.
[In case you are wondering, I do not know what was happening with me during that time. All I know is that I was in my third foster home at only 16 months of age, so there was a lot of instability for me, but I don't know why, nor does it matter. To me, it shows God was working to get me where I needed to be, so that I would be where I needed to be when the time came.]
They met with Byrdie, who then set up a meeting for them on January 2 in St. Paul at the capital with a social worker there, who had a little girl who needed a home. That little girl was me, of course, and we found each other that day.
I marvel often at the faith my parents had that God had a plan, and that somehow, some way, it would work out as he intended. In the face of so many trials, that they would even dare to take the risk is inspiring to me, and shows just how optimistic and faithful they were. I am not so self-centered as to be unaware of the true cost of that faith. I have always understood, even as a little kid, that their loss of three other children was unimaginable, my mother still feels that pain today, and that without losing their other children, I would not be a part of their family. I can't say I understand, in any way, how that can be a part of God's plan, but I accept that there are things I cannot know and will probably never understand in this lifetime. But my mom has always told me, and she fully believes, that God was holding me ready for them because he knew they would not be able to have me any other way, and that I was a child meant only for them, and this was part of his plan.
Their faith redeemed me then, and continues to do so every day I am alive. There is no other way to see it. In the mess and chaos of loss on all sides (they lost their children, I lost my biological roots) came the joy, the love, the family, that we were all meant to be.
One of my favorite poems is The Weaver poem, which really speaks to my lived experience. It sums up the reality of our earthly life, and our inability to see the whole picture of God's plan. When I am confused about what is happening in my life, which is often, I go back to this poem, and it reminds me that there is a plan, it will all work out (my mother's favorite phrase,) and somehow, some way, even if it makes no sense to me now, everything will come right, exactly as God intended.
The Weaver
Author Unknown
Right now, here in this life, I occasionally get a glimpse of the top side, and it encourages me in my faith that there is meaning in everything, even when I can't see it in the moment. But usually I am seeing the underside, and its a mess. But someday I will see the full pattern of the weaving of my life, and I know it will be beautiful, because that is what God intended for me in fulfillment of his promise. He gave me a future by giving me my family. He gives me hope through the faithful example of my mother and father. Prosperity is about faith and eternal life with God, and of that I am assured.
Just as my parents' faith redeemed me and gave me hope and a future here on earth, Jesus redeemed me and gave me hope and a future of eternal life in heaven.
Wishing you faith, love and hope for the future in 2023.
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