"For You created my innermost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb." Psalm 139:13
As a family we began praying earnestly for our expected wee one. No one knew when, how or what fashion God would deliver this precious bundle of joy, but we believed with all our hearts that a plan for adoption was in our future.
Several months passed. I was busy driving Jeremy to and from his developmental preschool while still recovering from breast cancer. Megan was now in school full-time which made my life a little simpler. Still I tired easily and worked to ease the mental pain from having had cancer. The thought of adding another child to our family was both exhilarating and scary. We wrestled with the usual worries of any soon-to-be parents.
As the fall season gave way to winter I began to experience the blues typical for those in need of sunshine. Christmas was a reminder of past difficult times for me, including my abortion and then, diagnosis of cancer. I looked for outside activities to keep me engaged and less focused on myself and planned outings with friends as often as possible.
Then on one chilly morning in November Rick attended a businessmen and women's breakfast. The guest speaker was someone from the Lighthouse, a Catholic home for unwed mothers. As the speaker told about the Lighthouse's mission for the Kansas City community, Rick later said that his skin on the back of his neck started to prickle and that he was overcome with the urge to speak personally to this woman. From talking with the speaker Rick learned that the Lighthouse was looking for women in the KC community to volunteer time towards helping the many young women living in their facility. Rick excitedly told me about his encounter while encouraging me to volunteer at the Lighthouse. I wasn't too sure; I was already busy enough.
Soon thereafter a dear friend of mine, with whom I'd shared our secret, excitedly called to tell Rick and me about her sister who was adopting a child through the Lighthouse. Imagine how excited we were when Laura shared, "You know, Kathy, my sister tells me that there are several children to be born this summer, and the Lighthouse is looking for adoptive families to help place these babies when they're born." Maybe it was time to contact the Lighthouse after all.
After speaking with the Lighthouse's volunteer coordinator I agreed to share my heart during one of their chapel times. I wanted to encourage these women as they walked forward in life -- unwed and pregnant. The best time for me to volunteer, I was told, would be in mid-January of the coming year. So I waited and did my best to move through the holiday season.
January finally arrived and I led chapel time one Sunday afternoon. Afterward I noticed one young woman walking by who didn't look pregnant and I remember wondering about that. She turned to me, saying, "Thanks for speaking to us today. I enjoyed hearing your story." That was it. Rick and I believe this young woman to be Rebekah's birth mother. Arriving at the KC Lighthouse just weeks earlier --Krista* was about three months pregnant making Rebekah's probable conception date around the middle of October. (Remember, Rick had begun journaling about the need for our family to begin praying for our new baby and for the birth mother in mid-October.)
After much prayer, Rick and I officially moved forward with a plan for adoption through the Lighthouse.
I wish I could say the process was easy, but it was not always so. We had many forms to fill out, pictures of our family to be taken, home studies to be completed by a social worker and money to be paid for lawyers. After the initial rounds of application for adoption papers were filed in early March, we waited for a letter of acceptance from the Lighthouse. My mind wrestled with doubts. Amazingly we received our acceptance letter just a week or two later.
We were then required to complete more legal forms which included the hiring of a lawyer to help move the process of adoption along. At that time retaining a lawyer for adoptions cost $500 which seemed like a HUGE sum of money for us at the time. And frankly, we didn't have it. Rick had only recently started his own business and I wanted to stay at home with our children. I brazenly threw the paper-clipped papers onto our dining room table and saying aloud, "Okay, God. If you want us to move forward, You will need to give us $500 --- and make sure we know it's for this adoption." I just couldn't see how we would be able to move forward any other way.
A few days later a friend of ours visited Rick at his office. Rick and he talked for awhile, then handed Rick a sealed envelope before leaving. To Rick's utter amazement he found a check for $500 in that envelope! Again, we were overwhelmed with the perfect timing of God's provisions!
Clearly God was providing us with everything we would need to move forward with this adoption. We filed our last set of papers, along with a $500 check, and waited for our next communication with the Lighthouse. It was now mid-April 1997. We wouldn't hear from anyone until the middle of summer. And then the process would begin to move along more quickly. Our precious newborn baby was being nurtured and prayed over by the many volunteers at the Lighthouse as well as by our family. And we waited.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Precious Bundle of Joy - Rebekah (Part 1)
(Permission given by Rebekah to share this story with you .)
When we first laid eyes on precious Rebekah she was just a few days old. Nestled in the crook of my arms, this adorable tiny baby snuggled into my chest. What a pretty little baby she was! Beautiful brown skin and a little tuft of hair held together with a tiny pink bow. Rebekah was just lovely to gaze upon.
Rebekah's adoption story is special -- as are all children who are adopted. This youngest daughter of ours is now 15 years old and has given me permission to share her story. I hope you are as amazed as we were as we watched this story unfold! In June 1996, just two months since I'd finished my last round of chemotherapy for breast cancer --
One evening Rick and I reflected upon our lives together. We both remembered regretting the inability to have a third child. After Jeremy's birth I had surgery to prevent another pregnancy. In retrospect we wished we'd not carried through with this plan, but also acknowledged the fact that another pregnancy would have caused my cancer cells to grow even more quickly.
On this particular night Rick and I stayed awake talking together for awhile. Eventually I fell to sleep but Rick stayed up long enough to send a short prayer to God, "If you ever see fit to bless us with a third child, we were be very grateful." Rick didn't share this prayer with me for a long time.
A few weeks later Rick was having lunch with a friend from our church. During this time Paul* asked an unusual question, "Are you and Kathy thinking about adopting a child?" A little taken back Rick said that we weren't and asked "why" he asked this odd question. Our friend cautiously replied, "Because God has given me a vision," and then, proceeded to share the details with Rick. "I saw the whole family gathered around Kathy as she held a newborn baby. Everyone was sitting or standing around the sofa in your living room. I couldn't see if the baby was a boy or a girl, but it was a newborn and everyone was very excited to welcome this little one into your family."
Later when Rick shared this conversation with me I was stunned. I'd recently finished chemotherapy and our son was struggling with autism. It seemed impossible for any judge to grant us custody of another child!? After all, how long would I live given the possibility of cancer recurrence? And how much attention could I offer a newborn baby with an autistic child to deal with.
After some discussion we decided not to do anything -- in fact, I thought the whole idea sort of silly. Life went on as usual. Then a couple months later Paul called Rick once more to say, "This morning I was praying and believe God wants you to hear, again, that you and Kathy ARE going to be blessed with another child within a year. I believe that God wants you and Kathy to prepare for this gift by praying for and expect the arrival of this special baby." As you can imagine, we were astounded by this man's words.
With nothing to lose we began praying earnestly for this special little baby who might someday enter our home. Neither of us were totally confident that these visions were Truth, but thought prayers could only help move the process along if God was truly planning to bless us with another little one.
Then one chilly, but awesome morning in October Rick shared with me a journal entry he'd written just days before. On that particular morning he had written, "I believe God is nudging us to begin praying for our new baby to come and her birth mother. I believe we are to pray that this birth mother come to know God and that her newborn child would be protected throughout this pregnancy." Rick journaled this in October -- something important to remember.
With renewed strength and courage we began praying together for God's will to be done. We were careful to pray only for God's will and for guidance. Rick and I agreed to only a few others which didn't seem to include members of our own families. It was an exciting time -- a journey that would have many peaks & valleys. It was to be an awesome story for Rebekah to learn about as she grew up. She would learn just how much God loves His children -- even children who are special because of their adoption.
"Delight yourself in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass." Psalm 34: 4, 7
* Name Changed To Protect The Identity of Our Friend
When we first laid eyes on precious Rebekah she was just a few days old. Nestled in the crook of my arms, this adorable tiny baby snuggled into my chest. What a pretty little baby she was! Beautiful brown skin and a little tuft of hair held together with a tiny pink bow. Rebekah was just lovely to gaze upon.
Rebekah's adoption story is special -- as are all children who are adopted. This youngest daughter of ours is now 15 years old and has given me permission to share her story. I hope you are as amazed as we were as we watched this story unfold! In June 1996, just two months since I'd finished my last round of chemotherapy for breast cancer --
One evening Rick and I reflected upon our lives together. We both remembered regretting the inability to have a third child. After Jeremy's birth I had surgery to prevent another pregnancy. In retrospect we wished we'd not carried through with this plan, but also acknowledged the fact that another pregnancy would have caused my cancer cells to grow even more quickly.
On this particular night Rick and I stayed awake talking together for awhile. Eventually I fell to sleep but Rick stayed up long enough to send a short prayer to God, "If you ever see fit to bless us with a third child, we were be very grateful." Rick didn't share this prayer with me for a long time.
A few weeks later Rick was having lunch with a friend from our church. During this time Paul* asked an unusual question, "Are you and Kathy thinking about adopting a child?" A little taken back Rick said that we weren't and asked "why" he asked this odd question. Our friend cautiously replied, "Because God has given me a vision," and then, proceeded to share the details with Rick. "I saw the whole family gathered around Kathy as she held a newborn baby. Everyone was sitting or standing around the sofa in your living room. I couldn't see if the baby was a boy or a girl, but it was a newborn and everyone was very excited to welcome this little one into your family."
Later when Rick shared this conversation with me I was stunned. I'd recently finished chemotherapy and our son was struggling with autism. It seemed impossible for any judge to grant us custody of another child!? After all, how long would I live given the possibility of cancer recurrence? And how much attention could I offer a newborn baby with an autistic child to deal with.
After some discussion we decided not to do anything -- in fact, I thought the whole idea sort of silly. Life went on as usual. Then a couple months later Paul called Rick once more to say, "This morning I was praying and believe God wants you to hear, again, that you and Kathy ARE going to be blessed with another child within a year. I believe that God wants you and Kathy to prepare for this gift by praying for and expect the arrival of this special baby." As you can imagine, we were astounded by this man's words.
With nothing to lose we began praying earnestly for this special little baby who might someday enter our home. Neither of us were totally confident that these visions were Truth, but thought prayers could only help move the process along if God was truly planning to bless us with another little one.
Then one chilly, but awesome morning in October Rick shared with me a journal entry he'd written just days before. On that particular morning he had written, "I believe God is nudging us to begin praying for our new baby to come and her birth mother. I believe we are to pray that this birth mother come to know God and that her newborn child would be protected throughout this pregnancy." Rick journaled this in October -- something important to remember.
With renewed strength and courage we began praying together for God's will to be done. We were careful to pray only for God's will and for guidance. Rick and I agreed to only a few others which didn't seem to include members of our own families. It was an exciting time -- a journey that would have many peaks & valleys. It was to be an awesome story for Rebekah to learn about as she grew up. She would learn just how much God loves His children -- even children who are special because of their adoption.
"Delight yourself in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass." Psalm 34: 4, 7
* Name Changed To Protect The Identity of Our Friend
Thursday, August 9, 2012
A Full Quiver
When Rick and I were dating we often took long walks together -- at least in the spring, summer and fall seasons. We used this time to get to know one another and to talk about our busy, hectic lives. Rick was a banker while I was learning how to be a most excellent pediatric nurse. We were young and in love so planning for a future together seemed only natural =)
One evening we walked from my little apartment to a tiny street-side park. Located on one of the corners of a very busy intersection, cars were zipping by, but Rick and I didn't hear them. We only had ears from one another. (Aww, love is bliss =) There were comfortable benches arranged around a beautiful water fountain. Our wedding was just months away and our conversation had turned to long-range plans for our future as husband and wife, then later, as a daddy and mommy.
"Rick, I would like three children," I said, "I'd like to have two biological children and adopt one child with special needs." Having seen other nurses at Children's Mercy adopt children who needed families to love and care for them, I thought it would be something I'd like to do, too. I pictured bringing home a small child who was either blind or deaf -- simpler challenges, I thought. I recall thinking to myself that almost any special need would be fine, but that I did NOT want to bring home a child with mental retardation or similar mental deficit. "No way!" I thought to myself. "I'd never be able to hand that!"
I was wary of people with mental retardation. As a child I'd been scared by the actions of one of our neighbor's daughter who happened to have Down's Syndrome. During my childhood years, the 1960's, children with special needs were just seldom seen. In school they were tucked away in special education classrooms -- an almost forgotten group of people. Words like inclusion, acceptance and diversity weren't talked about. My limited experience with those having special needs had created confusion and fear.
Fast forward ten years at which time our family was complete -- our quiver was full, so to speak. Rick and I had birthed two children into this world, and later had adopted a little baby girl. One day I thought about my original declaration about children which I'd expressed to Rick so long ago that one fine summer night before we were married. I marveled at how closely our lives had paralleled that first dream of family. We did have two children and one child with special needs -- only our biological child was the one with a special gift of autism. God had prepared our hearts as only He could do. And He helped me overcome my own fears and prejudices for those with special gifts as well =)
Jeremy does have some mental challenges which was something I didn't want to have to deal with. Along the way I have learned patience, trust and have steadily gained strength from our Creator to move forward year after year. God has enabled both Rick and I to walk with confidence and purpose as we seek the best treatments and therapies for our special son. And He provided us with both Megan and Rebekah -- the very best sisters for Jeremy in this whole wide world. For the gift of these three children I am eternally grateful. Who would have known that the seeds for our family would have been placed in my heart even before we were married?
"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 a hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
One evening we walked from my little apartment to a tiny street-side park. Located on one of the corners of a very busy intersection, cars were zipping by, but Rick and I didn't hear them. We only had ears from one another. (Aww, love is bliss =) There were comfortable benches arranged around a beautiful water fountain. Our wedding was just months away and our conversation had turned to long-range plans for our future as husband and wife, then later, as a daddy and mommy.
"Rick, I would like three children," I said, "I'd like to have two biological children and adopt one child with special needs." Having seen other nurses at Children's Mercy adopt children who needed families to love and care for them, I thought it would be something I'd like to do, too. I pictured bringing home a small child who was either blind or deaf -- simpler challenges, I thought. I recall thinking to myself that almost any special need would be fine, but that I did NOT want to bring home a child with mental retardation or similar mental deficit. "No way!" I thought to myself. "I'd never be able to hand that!"
I was wary of people with mental retardation. As a child I'd been scared by the actions of one of our neighbor's daughter who happened to have Down's Syndrome. During my childhood years, the 1960's, children with special needs were just seldom seen. In school they were tucked away in special education classrooms -- an almost forgotten group of people. Words like inclusion, acceptance and diversity weren't talked about. My limited experience with those having special needs had created confusion and fear.
Fast forward ten years at which time our family was complete -- our quiver was full, so to speak. Rick and I had birthed two children into this world, and later had adopted a little baby girl. One day I thought about my original declaration about children which I'd expressed to Rick so long ago that one fine summer night before we were married. I marveled at how closely our lives had paralleled that first dream of family. We did have two children and one child with special needs -- only our biological child was the one with a special gift of autism. God had prepared our hearts as only He could do. And He helped me overcome my own fears and prejudices for those with special gifts as well =)
Jeremy does have some mental challenges which was something I didn't want to have to deal with. Along the way I have learned patience, trust and have steadily gained strength from our Creator to move forward year after year. God has enabled both Rick and I to walk with confidence and purpose as we seek the best treatments and therapies for our special son. And He provided us with both Megan and Rebekah -- the very best sisters for Jeremy in this whole wide world. For the gift of these three children I am eternally grateful. Who would have known that the seeds for our family would have been placed in my heart even before we were married?
"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 a hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Attack of Pillow Man
"Be alert and of sober mind for the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour ..." 1 Peter 5:8
"Therefore God exalted him (Jesus) to the highest place and gave Him the name that is above every name." Philippians 2:9
My father died the very last day of July, 2002. He was a loving, good-hearted man with multiple health issues. For many years he'd suffered from a variety of ailments -- heart valve leakage, myoclonic jerk disorder, diverticulitis, depression, and so on. When he died our family was sad, yet relieved. I had no doubt that my dad had ascended to heaven -- but that's for another blog.
I remember standing by Dad's casket looking down at his deceased body. Dad had become a true believer in Christ after he'd suffered a sort of mid-life crisis twenty-five years earlier. As the years went by I watched my dad pray more, read the bible more and find a sense of contentment for his position in life. More than once I witnessed Dad praying beside his bed -- on his knees.
As I stood looking at my dad as he lay in the casket there was a subtle shift in my spirit that's hard to describe. I remember sensing this mantle-like cloak settling down upon my shoulders. "As your father prayed, so shall you," whispered a gentle, quiet voice into my ears. I shuddered. "NO, I don't want it!" I thought. "He suffered so much ... and I don't want to suffer like my dad!" Shrugging it off, I turned to sit with my family as the service began.
Following the funeral our family was invited to spend some time with friends at their house on Lake of the Ozarks, mom included. So off the six of us went for a weekend of sunshine and relaxation. It was a very strange time for all of us. We enjoyed jet skiing, tubing behind their speed boat and floating on rafts around their dock. Our family spent this time reflecting on Dad's death and our future. It was a bittersweet time for all of us. I missed my dad. We were very close. I could talk to my dad about almost anything.
Rick and I went to bed after tucking both Megan and Jeremy in for the night. It was a splendid house and our bedroom overlooked the beautiful lake. Swiftly I drifted to sleep amid a sense of peace and gratefulness for this time away.
Sometime later I woke up but found myself unable to move. It was the strangest sensation -- like a huge pillow-body was lying across me. I frantically searched the room but didn't see anyone or anything. It was like I was awake, but a little asleep, too. Trying to speak proved difficult as all I could manage was a small croak, "Help." No success in waking Rick, I tried again. "Help, me!" I managed to squeak one more time. The oppressive weight was slowly sinking into my chest and I found myself struggling for breath. "Am I dying!?" I wondered.
Suddenly I heard that still, small, gentle voice that I'd heard at my dad's funeral say, "Call out for Jesus. His name is more powerful than all."
"Okay, I'll do it," I thought to myself. So with a firm resolve I took in as much air as I could muster and hoarsely belted out, "Jesus!!!" Immediately the heaviness of pillow-man lifted and I sensed this spirit of oppression leave the room. I had managed to scream the name of Jesus so loudly that Rick woke up only to find me sitting straight-up! Imagine Rick's surprise to have been awakened so abruptly in the middle of the night!
I don't know how I fell to sleep after such an exhausting fight, but I seemed to drift off to sleep with relative ease. In the morning I woke with vivid memories of this night time incident and grew trouble. Visible shaken, I shared what had happened to me with our friends. I was stunned by my friend's response, "I've experienced that before, too."
Ten years later I can still recall that night with vivid detail. It was a valuable lesson for me and I've only shared this story with a few people until now. I learned that the name of Jesus is more powerful than any name in all the heavens and the earth. And I learned God sometimes allows us to experience oppressing times while on earth -- for a variety of reasons. I believe that God was allowing me to see that evil would try to thwart my plans and possibly even try to do harm to me at times. But God clearly is in control.
Now, when I am afraid or going through difficult times (especially emotional times) I will sometimes just say the name "Jesus" aloud. It's amazing how quickly the mood of the room will change.
And, I have become a woman of prayer ... no longer afraid, but strong in the name of Christ Jesus. Amen.
"Therefore God exalted him (Jesus) to the highest place and gave Him the name that is above every name." Philippians 2:9
My father died the very last day of July, 2002. He was a loving, good-hearted man with multiple health issues. For many years he'd suffered from a variety of ailments -- heart valve leakage, myoclonic jerk disorder, diverticulitis, depression, and so on. When he died our family was sad, yet relieved. I had no doubt that my dad had ascended to heaven -- but that's for another blog.
I remember standing by Dad's casket looking down at his deceased body. Dad had become a true believer in Christ after he'd suffered a sort of mid-life crisis twenty-five years earlier. As the years went by I watched my dad pray more, read the bible more and find a sense of contentment for his position in life. More than once I witnessed Dad praying beside his bed -- on his knees.
As I stood looking at my dad as he lay in the casket there was a subtle shift in my spirit that's hard to describe. I remember sensing this mantle-like cloak settling down upon my shoulders. "As your father prayed, so shall you," whispered a gentle, quiet voice into my ears. I shuddered. "NO, I don't want it!" I thought. "He suffered so much ... and I don't want to suffer like my dad!" Shrugging it off, I turned to sit with my family as the service began.
Following the funeral our family was invited to spend some time with friends at their house on Lake of the Ozarks, mom included. So off the six of us went for a weekend of sunshine and relaxation. It was a very strange time for all of us. We enjoyed jet skiing, tubing behind their speed boat and floating on rafts around their dock. Our family spent this time reflecting on Dad's death and our future. It was a bittersweet time for all of us. I missed my dad. We were very close. I could talk to my dad about almost anything.
Rick and I went to bed after tucking both Megan and Jeremy in for the night. It was a splendid house and our bedroom overlooked the beautiful lake. Swiftly I drifted to sleep amid a sense of peace and gratefulness for this time away.
Sometime later I woke up but found myself unable to move. It was the strangest sensation -- like a huge pillow-body was lying across me. I frantically searched the room but didn't see anyone or anything. It was like I was awake, but a little asleep, too. Trying to speak proved difficult as all I could manage was a small croak, "Help." No success in waking Rick, I tried again. "Help, me!" I managed to squeak one more time. The oppressive weight was slowly sinking into my chest and I found myself struggling for breath. "Am I dying!?" I wondered.
Suddenly I heard that still, small, gentle voice that I'd heard at my dad's funeral say, "Call out for Jesus. His name is more powerful than all."
"Okay, I'll do it," I thought to myself. So with a firm resolve I took in as much air as I could muster and hoarsely belted out, "Jesus!!!" Immediately the heaviness of pillow-man lifted and I sensed this spirit of oppression leave the room. I had managed to scream the name of Jesus so loudly that Rick woke up only to find me sitting straight-up! Imagine Rick's surprise to have been awakened so abruptly in the middle of the night!
I don't know how I fell to sleep after such an exhausting fight, but I seemed to drift off to sleep with relative ease. In the morning I woke with vivid memories of this night time incident and grew trouble. Visible shaken, I shared what had happened to me with our friends. I was stunned by my friend's response, "I've experienced that before, too."
Ten years later I can still recall that night with vivid detail. It was a valuable lesson for me and I've only shared this story with a few people until now. I learned that the name of Jesus is more powerful than any name in all the heavens and the earth. And I learned God sometimes allows us to experience oppressing times while on earth -- for a variety of reasons. I believe that God was allowing me to see that evil would try to thwart my plans and possibly even try to do harm to me at times. But God clearly is in control.
Now, when I am afraid or going through difficult times (especially emotional times) I will sometimes just say the name "Jesus" aloud. It's amazing how quickly the mood of the room will change.
And, I have become a woman of prayer ... no longer afraid, but strong in the name of Christ Jesus. Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)