Author: Rebecca Mayes

Collect: May 9, 2012

It is our privilege to pray with and for you.  If you would like to submit a personal petition to be included in our prayers, please send your request via the “Submit a Question” page on this site. 

Collect of the Week:

Let us pray…

O God, You make the minds of Your faithful to be of one will. Grant that we may love what You have commanded and desire what You promise, that among the many changes of this world our hearts may be fixed where true joys are found; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

(Lutheran Service Book, Fifth Sunday of Easter)

 

A Change of Heart – Part 3

A continuation of A Change of Heart -Part 2…

Keisha couldn’t give me a due date. At one point she said it was the end of March and another time she said it was the beginning of April. She asked me to attend a doctor’s appointment with her that no one at the doctor’s office seemed to know anything about.  Things were getting really strange. Then in January the contact with Keisha diminished considerably. She wouldn’t return calls from the agency. She had stopped contacting me. I left messages for her to explain what the agency needed in order to continue preparations for the adoption. She finally called back in February to explain that her phone had been stolen and things were not good with the boyfriend again. Her voice was strained and she sounded tired and overwhelmed. She said she would call me back when things settled down.

I never heard from her again.

Ben and I had, on several occasions, given Keisha suggestions on ways to get out of her chaotic lifestyle, to find help, find a job, move out of the stressful situation she was living in and make a better home for her children. The agency had resources in place for this, too, which is why we had encouraged her to utilize them. But she didn’t and we couldn’t make her, nor did we feel comfortable stepping in and taking over the decisions that were hers to make.

March came and went and so did April. There was no last-minute phone call from the hospital, announcing that she had had the baby and was now ready to finish the adoption process. We had to face it: she had certainly had the baby by then and we were not going to be the parents.

The Lord, in His mercy, had protected our hearts from too much anticipation during this whole ordeal. On many occasions Ben and I discussed how this experience was more than likely just an opportunity to pray for this mother and her children, regardless of the outcome. The agency had warned us that these unusual “matchings” rarely resulted in a placement. We appreciated their candidness and acted on their advice on how to deal with Keisha. This caution kept us from experiencing a real heartbreak when the relationship gradually ceased. We were sincerely concerned for Keisha and her welfare, for the future of this new child and the other children, but we knew that we had done what we could to help and it wasn’t in our hands anymore. To this day we have no idea if Keisha had a boy or girl or if she’s raising the child herself. We sometimes wonder if she was ever really pregnant and if not, why did she act like it? We will probably never know. We just trust that she and her family are in the hands of our loving Heavenly Father, in whom she confessed a strong faith.

I still see the very young single moms at the bus stops and parks and grocery stores, but I look at them differently now. I consider what their pasts may have been like and what options they see for themselves for the future. Now I see not just what they have that I don’t, but I see what’s missing–what I have that they might not. I wonder if it’s a Keisha I’m passing by.

Seeing these women now stirs up compassion instead of jealousy. I have a new perspective that I didn’t have before I met Keisha and was welcomed into her life for such a brief period of time. Even though we invested so much of ourselves into this potential adoption without the joy of bringing a baby home, I still have to thank God for using this experience to open my eyes. I thank God for giving me a change of heart.

A Change of Heart – Part 2

A continuation of A Change of Heart – Part 1…

“I think we should call her,” Ben said as we stood in the kitchen that evening, going over the unbelievable events of the day. I had fumbled through the rest of the phone call with Keisha, eventually encouraging her to contact the agency we were already working with. I knew that they could provide her with some resources she might need, as well as be a facilitator between us if she was really serious about wanting to pursue adoption.

Ben continued, “If we are really open to this then we need to find out more about her and the birthfather and her situation so we can know all the facts. What if she decides not to contact the agency for some reason? We might never hear from her again.”

His sentiments both surprised and touched me. He was suggesting a much more aggressive approach than I would have considered and it reminded me that although he did not often express  his frustrations with this long wait for a second child, his desire to have a baby was just as strong as my own.

So I called Keisha. She was excited to hear from me again and heartily agreed to come over that very evening to meet Ben and continue our discussion. When she arrived she seemed a bit more timid in Ben’s presence, but still willingly answered the countless number of questions we threw at her.

During the conversation that evening and over the course of the next few months we obtained a picture of this woman and her life, both past and present, that brought to light the realities of what life is like for so many girls who grow up in a culture of poverty. Her father was never in the picture. Her mother was verbally abusive and their relationship now was strained and sporadic. The birthfather–her first and only boyfriend–was repeatedly unfaithful but yet the connection to his family provided her with a place to live, a family support system, and a father to the other three children they had had together. She felt trapped, without any real options in front of her for making a better life.

As she and I visited with each other during this time I couldn’t help but look at my own past and all the privileges I had had: married parents who loved me, moral guidance, boundaries, pastors, a Christian education, a selfless and faithful spouse…too many to count. And I looked at Keisha’s life and felt again a sense of injustice, but this time it wasn’t for me, it was for her.

We eventually had the opportunity to meet Keisha’s other children, whom she obviously loved dearly. Despite the fact that she had experienced very few healthy relationships in her own life, she was a gentle and attentive mother to these little ones who seemed to adore her. These children showered her with the love and affection that she had not received from anyone else in her life. Could it be that perhaps, despite her poor choices, these children were God’s gifts to her  to fill a need that no else had even tried to fill? She loved these children, but she felt that a fourth one would be more than she could handle  in her current living situation. Family members suggested abortion but this was not an option for her.

For four months we spoke with Keisha and the boyfriend, encouraging them to work with our adoption agency. While both of them seemed adamant that they could not raise this child and that we were the right family to do so, they were reluctant to follow through with visits to and from the agency social workers. “Why?” we kept wondering. “What was preventing them from making that next step?” This was not the only red flag that had emerged. There were others as well. Ben and I knew we needed to proceed with great caution. We prayed, we asked for advice, and we waited, all the while wondering if it was realistic to think that this baby would really be our own someday.

To be continued (and concluded)…

A Change of Heart – Part 1

Living in a large city has been an eye-opening experience for my family. We had previously been surrounded by primarily white, middle-class communities. Not anymore. We now live among people of various ethnicities and cultures, many of whom are living in poverty and do not have traditional family units. I see this almost every day that I leave my house. Single moms wait at bus stops with several children in tow.  I see high school girls walking home after school, several with bellies protruding, evidence of the life they carry within. At first it was hard to see these girls day after day and not feel a great deal of injustice. It appeared that lack of self-control and poor decision-making were being rewarded by God when my husband of 14 years and I continued to wait for a child. It felt unfair.

We are on the Caucasian waiting list with our adoption agency. The decision to have our names on the Caucasian list as opposed to the list that includes all races was not made flippantly, nor have we resolved to only have white children in our family. Because we have a choice as to what list we go on we picked the Caucasian list, but we’ve always agreed that if an opportunity to parent a child of a different race was dropped in our lap we would certainly be open to this. And then, one warm and bright October morning, the opportunity arrived–not in our laps, exactly, but on our doorstep.

“Keisha” rang our doorbell with the intent to ask some questions about the “for sale” sign in our front lawn. She and the large family she was living with were looking to move out of their small apartment and they wanted to remain in the same neighborhood. She loved our house and had been admiring it for several weeks. Although I would not normally have invited in a perfect stranger to take a tour, for some reason I felt very comfortable with her and asked if she’d like to take a look around. I was thrilled that someone was showing some interest in the place. We hadn’t had many lookers.

Keisha was sweet, with a wide smile that brightened the room and starkly contrasted her dark skin. She had a calm, confident presence about her, perhaps accentuated by her tall, brood figure. In our conversation during the tour it somehow came out that our son had been adopted and we were hoping to adopt more children. Keisha was intrigued  by this fact and commented on how well Caleb seemed to fit into the family and how content and cheerful he was. She soon left with the realtor’s number and mine in her hand and I prayed that the experience might move us a little closer to getting this house sold.

Not twenty minutes later I received a phone call from her. We exchanged the initial greetings and then, after a quiet moment of hesitation, she blurted out, “I’m pregnant. And I’ve been thinking about adoption. You were so kind to me when I was in your home and your son seems like he is so loved and so happy. I really feel like you’re the family I’ve been looking for.” I almost dropped the phone.

To be continued…

Curiosity or Caring?

I saw them again recently and wondered what their story was. I’m curious. They’ve been married for awhile and I’m assuming they would like a family. I’ve talked to them briefly about our own adoption plans and hoped they might take that opportunity to share with me their desires for children and any struggles they are having. But no luck. They didn’t take the bait.

I was about to approach the topic head-on with the wife when we had a few moments alone, but now I’m glad I didn’t. I realized just before I opened my mouth that I don’t know them well enough yet. I wanted them to invite me into a very private part of their life together (their bedroom, to be exact) and I’ve never even invited them into our dining room for dinner. Yes, I’m concerned about their emotional state. I want to help if they’re hurting. Hey, I’ve been there. I’m still there. But that doesn’t make me an expert who needs to seek out patients to “treat.” While it sounds like I’m just trying to help, I think the real motivation is more curiosity than caring.

If I care about their fertility then I need to care about the rest of their beings as well. Are they enjoying their jobs? What do they do for fun? Where do they see themselves in five years?  What has life taught them thus far? Have things turned out differently from what they expected? What part of their lives bring them the most joy? What was their childhood like? I have a lot to find out. And maybe the subject will come up in the process. Maybe it won’t. But regardless, we’ll be blessed by more friends in our circle. Perhaps my current state in life is making me more aware of people who don’t have children, not so that I can somehow help them, but so that I will remember to make an effort to get to know them and just let the Lord bless our relationship in whatever way He chooses.

A Holy Saturday Reflection

Johann Gerhard was a pastor and prolific writer from the 17th century. His book, An Explanation of the History of the Suffering and Death of our Lord Jesus Christ, is a must-read during Lent. Here are some excerpts from the section about Christ’s suffering as it began in the Garden of Gethsemane:

If it also ever happens that God gives us a little drink from this chalice of inner (spiritual) suffering and agony of heart, we are to be patient and are to remember how insignificantly this is to be regarded compared to the great flood which overcame Christ. Sink all your pains in this agony of Christ. Thus they will easily vanish like a tiny particle of dust in the sunshine. And that is precisely the reason that God the Lord at times portrays Himself as if He has hidden His countenance, allowing us to experience a bit of heart-anquish so that we may see what Christ endured for us and thank Him for it (pgs. 66-67).

“Take away this cup from Me,” Christ said. Thus it is not improper that one petition God to avert or alleviate a cross. However, it must immediately follow thereupon and occur at the same time that one commits everything to the fatherly will of God. Just as Christ here says: “Yet not My will, rather Your will take place.” Even though Christ, as true Man, indeed felt human emotions and asked for the averting of this chalice, He nevertheless immediately forthwith put His will under the will of God [the Father]. We must do this much more, for many times we do not know for what we should pray (Rom. 8). However, as our dear Father, God’s will is always the best (pgs. 68-69).

Did Someone Call a Plumber?

I have always been fascinated with plumbing. Fascinated and intimidated. So when we bought a new water filtration system for under our sink I got an estimate from a plumber to see how much it would be to get it installed, even though the online reviews said that most anyone could put it in. The estimate was more than we wanted to spend, but my husband had other, more pressing home maintenance tasks to tackle. I had been dreaming of fresh, chemical-free, yummy-tasting, good-for-you filtered water for months. I couldn’t wait any longer.

So I installed it myself.

It took all afternoon, but I did it. I followed the directions, connected the yellow, clear, black, and red tubes to their corresponding fittings. I used plumber’s tape to reconnect the cold water line. I even drilled a hole in the PVC drain pipe, just like the instructions said to. When the last piece was hooked up and I turned the water back on I held my breath. I didn’t really expect it to work. I didn’t really think that I, a non-plumber, could have mastered this feat.

And why was I such a pessimist? Why didn’t I have more confidence in my own work? Well, the truth be told, my own pipes don’t work–the internal ones. Everything is hooked up right, and the tubes are clear, according to the dye test taken years ago. It appears that some things have leaked over time, though that was supposed to have been taken care of, too. But the expected outcome just isn’t there. These pipes aren’t delivering anything.

I still marvel every time someone shares with me that their own plumbing system is about to produce a tall, cool, refreshing, glass. Really?? I want to reply. Everything works for you? This is a miracle! How can this be? Who did the installation? I’m sure the same person did mine. But my system got messed up somehow. I still forget that most people’s systems work perfectly.

As I kneeled under my kitchen sink I watched the water move through the tubes, then travel from the copper pipe to the filter and then to the storage tank. I checked for leaks. I double-checked. And then I almost cried. It worked. I had taken control of something, pieced it together with my own hands, and then watched it work just like it was meant to. There was something indescribably satisfying about this act.

In fact, I’d love to do it again. Does anyone want their own system installed? I don’t charge for labor.

More Glimpses into a Mom’s Heart

Katie’s blog has helped us all open up the lines of communication about barrenness with our spouses, friends, churches and family members. Following suit, I also sent my mom some questions about her experience having two daughters who struggle with infertility and what it was like to welcome an adopted child into the family. Her words are a glimpse into her heart, which she doesn’t often expose in an effort to be strong for her children. I believe she gives a voice to the thoughts and fears that many mothers have but are afraid to share. Thanks mom, for your honesty, compassion, and encouragement over the years. You’ve had to hold up under the strain of this as well–times two.

Watching both of my daughters suffer in their barrenness has been heart wrenching.  There is an actual physical pain in my heart when I think about it.  There is no greater joy than to carry a child inside of you and I so want that for my daughters.  I want to fix this, I want to make it go away and be better.  I’m supposed to be able to do this as a mother and I can’t.  I have two daughters that can’t conceive now and I wonder what I did during my pregnancy that caused this.  Anti-nausea drugs maybe?  There is tremendous guilt at times and yet I know that it wasn’t intentional.  I know that God is here with all of us and has wonderful plans for my girls, we just don’t know what they all are yet.

One of the blessings that has come from this experience is that I have become an adoptive grandparent. We got to meet our grandson several weeks before he was placed in our daughter’s home.  He was sweet but it felt like we were babysitting for a wonderful little boy.  During the two weeks that followed I remember feeling like I did when I was pregnant for my second child.  I thought at the time, “Will I be able to love another child as much as I do my firstborn?”  I wondered if I would be able to love an adopted child as much as my other grandchildren who were born from my son.  The second my daughter stepped into her home with my new grandson it was instant love.  I felt this tremendous overwhelming feeling of joy and thankfulness that we had this new precious baby!  It didn’t matter where this baby came from, he was ours.  I continue to feel this way every time I see him and I am in awe that I can be a part of his life.  Thank you God.

I still wish that God would give my daughters a child to carry, but most of all I wish a peace and a contentment in their lives.  If they are never able to carry another child I pray that God will give both of my girls a peace about it.  They are both trying to adopt (one for the first time, the other for a second) and it has been a long, long process.  Why God?  Because our babies  haven’t been born yet. I am impatient but, “My soul waits on the Lord.”

Collect: February 27, 2012

It is our privilege to pray with and for you.  If you would like to submit a personal petition to be included in our prayers, please send your request via the “Submit a Question” page on this site. 

Collect of the Week:

Let us pray…

Lord Jesus,

As You were led into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit and then tempted by Satan, the Father of Lies, You did not stray from Your mission to continually move towards Calvary and the sacrifice that awaited You there. By the power of the Holy Scriptures, You repelled the devil with the truths of God’s promises until he fled from You. In great humility we bow before You and confess that we have fallen into the temptation of despair, of self-pity, and the belief that You are not a fair and just God. Forgive us these and all our sins and wash us clean with Your blood. Pour into our hearts daily Your Words of truth and establish them there that we, too, might use them to fight against the Tempter; for You live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Collect: February 20, 2012

It is our privilege to pray with and for you.  If you would like to submit a personal petition to be included in our prayers, please send your request via the “Submit a Question” page on this site. 

Collect of the Week:

Let us pray…

Good and Gracious Shepherd,

While on this earth You taught Your disciples for many years, instructing them and demonstrating for them how to care for Your sheep. As You fed the crowds of hungry people and washed the feet of these men You gave all future shepherds of Your flock a picture of humility and compassion, which they are to likewise model. We give You thanks for providing us in this present time with the blessing of good and faithful pastors who have washed us in our baptisms, being Your instrument to make us children of the Heavenly Father, and who have fed us Your Body and Blood, which fills our souls when in our emptiness we hunger for You. We pray that You would nurture and mold these men to become Your voice to people who are hurting all around them. Give them strength to shoulder the burdens we lay upon them and wisdom to know which of Your Words will be that healing balm that we desperately need; for You live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.