When I was in my teens, I had a robbery of sorts. I kept quiet for about a year. No one knew. Actually, I didn't even know what had happened. I just knew the event played and played, over and over in my mind, and I felt ashamed. I felt worthless and withdrew from most of my extracurricular activities and friendships. I was angry with God and ran from Him too. "God, if you want me, you will need to get me through the man of my choosing. If you do, I'll follow you and never look back," was my response.
When I met the man who is now my husband, I told him what kept replaying in my head. He put a name to the tragic event. He worked with me through the rage and anger that resulted. Our stories began to collide. My story was in the beginning stages of becoming his too. Then on our wedding day, I asked him what we would do with our lives. His reply, "Follow God and never look back." God had gotten me through the man of my choosing. In a nutshell, my husband came to know Christ through our relationship, and I came to know Christ again through my husband.
Just to note - I do not recommend this missionary type dating. But, I wasn't dating him in an effort to save him. I was dating him in an effort to run. I thought I was running from God. But, now I think I was running from the hurt and shame.
It's written that ALL things work together for good to those who love the Lord and are called according to His purposes. I often wondered what "good" could possibly take place from my tragedy. Then, after we gave birth to our 1st child, God called us to adopt our second born. And, this is my first experience with the "good" that could come from such tragedy. This family had experienced this tragedy in a similar way, and there was a hurting young lady This was the first time that my story mixed in with my daughter's, her birth mother's, and their's with ours to a certain degree.
We later birthed a son, then were expecting our 4th child, a daughter, when I was diagnosed with cancer. With being pregnant, then giving birth and starting treatments, the doctors assured me that my body would not be able to conceive again. While I realize I had the amazing opportunity to give birth 3 times at this point, it was a deep disappointment to know that I would never again be able to carry a child within me. This unfolds a bit more after our next adoption...
Once I was considered in remission, we pursued fostering. Those little lives that passed through ours will never be forgotten as we journey through life. After fostering 3 little ones at one time, God showed us that we could indeed function with a large family. And, so, we pursued adoption once they returned to their momma.
Little did we know that there were 5 little ones who were adding to our family's story way over in Ukraine. Today, our 5 are home, and we are still learning bits and pieces of the story, which is now our family story, that started 12 years ago in an Eastern European country. Parts of this story have left scars on my children both on the inside and the outside. These scars have now become our scars - some due to simply choosing to be their family and some from the pain that oozes out from time to time and hurts the family unit. Some of this story has left them with behaviors they struggle to overcome. Some of this story has left them with coping skills no child should ever need. And the healing of this affects us all and requires us all working together. All of this story involves my husband and I with all of our children putting in effort - some days, extreme effort - and many prayers for healing and redemption. On the days where struggles abound, we struggle together, we cry together, and we heal together. There are pieces of their lives in Ukraine that evoke such deep pain due to a similar tragedy that I too experienced many years ago. And, this is one of the chapters to our family's story that I find most beautiful. Long before they needed me to know what they are feeling, God was at work taking what the enemy meant to harm me and turning it into something that could bring healing. My personal story collides with theirs and becomes ours to tell.
After cancer and told I was most definitely infertile and after our 2nd adoption of 5 children, 9 little voices sent up prayers to our God. One little voice said in mostly Russian but a little English, "Momma, it's ok (responding to my telling her I couldn't have biological children anymore). I pray for a Momma, and God give me Momma, Daddy, 3 more sisters and 1 more brother. There is a God." With a large smile on her face, she went on to say that she would pray, and we would have a baby. As she walked away, she turned to let me know that it would be a boy because she'd asked for another baby brother from Momma's tummy. And, well, he's a big 1 year old now. She loves him fiercely. They all do. In fact, they love this boy so deeply that I so wish I had this kind of brotherly or sisterly bond with a sibling.
So, here again is a part of my story that is their's to share as well. And, they do. I have heard them tell people how I had cancer and was told I couldn't have babies, but how they prayed. With joy in their little eyes, they say, "And, here he is! Isn't he cute?" Then they show off how many teeth he has.
All of the story has affected me, my children, and my husband. Some days our family's story more resembles a battle. Some days, a fairy tale. And every day, it's an adventure.
My personal story dovetails with my husband's story, which together begins our family story, including our childrens' adoptions and births. Our family story has some roots in a distant state in America and some in an overseas country and some of our story started several years before we even knew it existed. And, here it is. It's ours to tell, as God leads. It's ours, not just a particular individual's, to share with those to whom the Lord leads us. Our family's story is one story, one that would be less beautiful if it was sliced and diced.