No, Adoption is Not Second Best

Adoption is a distinguished road not for the faint-of-heart but for the faithful one.I remember it as if it happened yesterday.  After our adoption of our daughter in 2010, family and friends gathered a local Starbucks to celebrate.  It was obvious that we were a happy bunch by the joy and laughter going on.

The barista behind the counter asked, “Are you celebrating something?”  I said, “Yes.  We just adopted our second child.”  He then said, “That’s great.  Are you going to have children of your own, too?”

Hit the brakes.  Inner Mama Bear rising up (Ladies, you know what I’m talking about).  Deep breath.  Tender smile.

Pause…bless his twenty-something, hipster little heart…

I responded with, “Our children are our own.”  “Oh,” he said.  “Well, congratulations.”

I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt when it comes to questions about foster care, adoption, and infertility.  I really do.  I’ve heard some doozies over the course of my lifetime of barrenness; ones that just ripped right into my heart.  Yet, I try my best to respond in a manner that is both respectful and educational.  After all, if we (foster/adoptive parents) want respect, we need to show it.  Plus, knowledge really is a powerful tool in helping to expand someone’s worldview.

Children who enter our lives, often through the tragedy of brokenness, are not replacements or an after-thought.  These precious souls are each born with their unique talents, challenges, and personalities.  Their histories are sometimes scarred but their futures are limitless.  The tapestries of their lives are weaved with love, loss and that incredibly soul-inspiring notion that there is always hope.

Adoption is beautiful and heart-breaking.  It is humbling and faith-building.  It is joy and laughter and tears all wrapped up in one.  It is a whole lot of things but it will never be second-best.  It is the path to parenthood that many families facing infertility choose to walk down.  It is a choice.  It is not easy and can be wrought with many unknowns.  Yet, each step is padded with the firm belief that adoption is a distinguished road not for the faint-of-heart but for the faithful one.

When following the command to care for orphans and the least-of-these, we should also look in the mirror and know that we, too, were orphans.  The Lord said, “I chose you”.  Not only are we chosen, we are cherished and known to our Father in Heaven.  I believe that Jesus had you and me on His mind when He carried that burdensome cross up the hill towards our salvation.  If I thought for one minute that adoption is second-best, I fear the glory and humbling essence of belonging to our Heavenly Father would be trivialized.

But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship.  -Galatians 4:4-5

Each child in need of adoption is a treasure to the Lord; worth more than gold or the greatest riches on Earth.  To Him, they are not second-best.  When I look into the eyes of my children, I do not see a secondary option.  No.  I see a longing fulfilled, redemption and the scripting of life without the borders that humans like to establish.  I see children who are worth it.

Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. -Luke 12:7

Is adoption second best to having a biological child?  I don’t think so.  Instead, I believe that adoption is a predestination lovingly anointed with the mystery and power of the Lord.   When I hear people comment about adoption being less than giving birth to a child or just a fallback plan, I cringe.  Friends, these thoughts are the whispers of the enemy trying to sabotage what our Father holds so dear.  The Enemy wants to destroy families.  He wants to bind children.  He wants to remind us of our own loss.  He wants to complicate the calling on our lives to care for orphans.

However, the voice of the Lord is stronger and more powerful.  He calls us upon the seas.  He asks us to tread where others fear to go.  He seeks the willing.  He equips the courageous.  He does this in the name of love.  If we believe in this, then how can we ever accept adoption as second best?

To the hipster dude at Starbucks, it’s okay.  I’ve long forgiven you for questioning whether I would have my “own” children.  Just know that my children – the ones who the Lord declared and prepared for my life – are mine.  They are not second-best.  They never have been.  They never will be.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. -Psalm 139:13-16

Note:  This was written as a guest post featured on the blog, Mess Into a Message Blog and can be viewed there along with other thought-provoking posts by the author of “Mess Into a Message”.  

Momma-in-Waiting on Thanksgiving

Pssst…Hey, Momma-in-Waiting. Yes, you.  You’ve cooked up the most delicious dish for today.  You get compliments on it and are asked for the recipe but if truth be told, you barely remember cooking it.  Instead, your mind was focused on what this Thanksgiving Day brings to you – a whole lot of anxiety and sadness. You’re a Momma-in-Waiting on Thanksgiving.

You meet and greet family members that you haven’t seen in a while.  They are all excited for you to meet the new little one just born into the family.  You act thrilled (and you are) but deep down, you are also absolutely devastated.  You think, “When will it be my turn?”

As the day progresses, you take a moment or two to step outside and catch your breath.  It is tricky, you know; tricky to navigate the relationships that you have, to express joy and gladness over the new little one that is in your family, and to answer the best you can when folks start asking about starting your own family.

A part of you just wants to scream – I mean, SCREAM!  If only they knew how much you wish you could actually give them an answer or how often you research infertility, treatments, doctors, adoption, and anything else tangled up in your experience.  If only they knew.

Here you are on Thanksgiving.  You are told to be thankful.  You are expected to be thankful.  You feel guilty if you are not.  This is where the rubber meets the road.  While others are gleefully living their lives (or at least, it seems like it), you are stuck waiting for your life to move on.  You want to move on past this whole infertility/no baby/no pregnancy garbage.  You want to forget this whole chapter of your story was ever written, but you can’t.  Most of all, though, you just want to know that you will be a mother one day.

On this Thanksgiving Day where so many around you remind you of what they are thankful for, take time for yourself.  You don’t have to be thankful for what you are going through but it is important to notice it.  How can you not?  Even if you don’t want to remember this season of your life, your body, mind, and spirit will remember every single pain-staking decision you have had to make and every single tear you have shed.

Thanksgiving is hard, isn’t it?  If you are a believer, you know that we are to be thankful in all circumstances.  Ugh, right?  How can you be thankful for infertility?  The honest answer from this previous Momma-in-Waiting is that it is extremely difficult and maybe you won’t ever be able to be thankful for it, and that’s okay.  One day, you will recognize that you survived it.  That’s big.  That’s enough.

Pssst…Hey, Momma-in-Waiting on Thanksgiving. Yes, you.  Today might be a little rough.  You’ve got this.  Don’t be too hard on yourself.  Tomorrow is a new day and that is something we can all be thankful for.

The Fall-Out After a Hysterectomy {what I want others to know}

One purpose for my blog is to share my experience with other women who are going through a hysterectomy or facing infertility.  I’ve had multiple conversations with women who have undergone a hysterectomy and while some women were like “Good Riddance!”, this is not the case for the majority of ones that I’ve spoken to.  Even though my hysterectomy occurred before I could really conceptualize the impact of it, I still had overwhelming thoughts about what had happened.  Not only was I confused by them, I couldn’t even appreciate or understood why confusion existed.

Although having a hysterectomy may be required at times and has become a bit more simple of a surgery, the emotional experience can be very difficult to navigate.  I want to help others going through a hysterectomy by sharing a few of the thoughts that I have experienced in my life.  (Please note that not everyone may feel this way)

  • “I am not female anymore.”  Believe it or not, this is a thought that can occur once someone has a hysterectomy.  The question of “What am I?” may cross a woman’s mind.
  • “I am no longer attractive to my mate.”  Yep.  Women DO struggle with this after a hysterectomy.  I used to believe that other girls/women put off a sexier or more womanly vibe that I possessed and that guys could tell; like men could tell that I was infertile. Seem crazy to me now, but it was a truth in my life that I had to overcome.  I compensated for it; sometimes, with bad decisions and other times with the “I don’t care about any of it” attitude.
  • “I must have done something wrong.”  Shame. Guilt.  Unworthy.  Although ridiculous in many ways, these words can describe the feelings that come about after undergoing a hysterectomy.  Infertility has a way of shouting this to us as well.
  • “I am broken.”  Despair upon despair.  Damaged goods.  It is hard to put a word that truly gives the meaning of what women go through after a hysterectomy.  Broken seems just about right.

Often, women do not want to talk about their feelings because they are embarrassed to feel the way they do or fear they might be misunderstood.  This seems to be especially true for younger women who are faced with the onslaught of friends complaining about periods and announcing pregnancies.  Infertility is one thing but when you throw in a hysterectomy, the game changes.

For most people, these doubts and feelings will not make sense.  For many others, though, there is great emotional fall-out after a hysterectomy, and, it is one that is surprising in nature.

If you have had a hysterectomy and are struggling, please know that what you are experiencing is normal.  Don’t be too hard on yourself.  Allow yourself time to grieve, and know that there are others who have had shared your emotions time and again.

Maybe, I’m just a lousy Christian…

So, yeah.  I know I haven’t been writing about adoption or infertility lately, and I’m sorry for that.  This is a strange time to be a blogger as it is hard to focus on your “subject” when there is so much going on in our country and everyone seems to be talking politics.  Just like pretty much everyone I know, I’ve been a bit consumed by all of the stuff floating around on social media and the internet.

I’ve felt like a volcano on the verge of erupting…like I just need to spill it out.  I’ve wanted to say so much on social media, but I’ve tried very hard to keep my thoughts to myself (and my husband).  I’ve read some pretty vicious things as well, was unfriended by a family member for not sharing the same views, and have been quite shocked at what others seem to say so freely and without a thought as to how their words might hurt.

I’ve made the mistake of reading through comments on lots of posts, and WOWZA, there are some nasty ones out there!  Comments like: condemn all Muslims to hell, all Muslims should die, if you didn’t vote for Trump then you are not a real Christian, etc…you get the point.  Sadly, I’m seeing far too many of these type of comments coming from people who call themselves Christians.

I have had this thought: “What would happen if instead of taking the time to write that comment, the person stopped and prayed for their “enemies”?”  I have deep concerns about what is going on with our current political climate and decisions, and I feel a bit helpless, but prayer is one of the most powerful ways to intercede and be proactive in a situation. Perhaps, this is a way to “fight the fight” without actually fighting and without letting our tongues get us into trouble.

I’ve been called a “bleeding heart” more than once in my life.  This reference is meant to be a bit of a slam and meant to suggest that one is weak and foolish, but I do not think of myself as either of these things.  However, I will admit to having a bit of a bleeding heart and to always root for the underdog.

In the times of great strife, I have been comforted by compassionate people who saw past my “junk” or problem and just loved on me.  I remember these people well.  I also remember the ones who chose to say non-loving words or ask ridiculous questions at a time when I didn’t need to hear it.  I’ve learned that I would much rather have a bleeding heart than a jaded one for I do not see it as a weakness.  Instead, I see it as a gift and that is why I’m having a super hard time wrapping my mind around how many Christians are coming to the defense of President Trump.

I have not seen one instance of him modeling the characteristics of Jesus.  Not one time. Instead, I feel that rooting for him is kind of like cheering on that popular high school football player even though he is a jerk off of the field.  Please, don’t get me wrong.  I don’t want him to fail, I’m just ambivalent about how I feel regarding his success.

I’ve wondered why I don’t view Trump like some Christians do.  Maybe, I don’t get it. Maybe, I need to re-evaluate my spiritual relationship and faith.  Maybe, I am “liberal”….I know I’ve been called that a few times, recently.  Maybe, I’m not as patriotic as others.  Maybe, I’m just too much of a “flower child for God”.  I don’t know…maybe, I’m just a lousy Christian.

It is very hard to navigate this world, isn’t it?  It is a challenge to be “in this world but not of it”; especially when we are faced with what appears to be a lot of chaos.  We are asked to be salt and light, yet, my heart is anguished over the thought of how difficult it is to be this when we surround ourselves with others who look, believe and think just like us.  How can we seek the lost when we are caught up in our selfish desire to be comfortable?

The more I see what is happening with our world and the way people are deciding who is worthy of compassion, the more I find myself in love with Jesus; the more I just want to stick close to him; the more I know I need him.

I have had this image in my mind of Jesus hanging on the Cross and looking out among the crowd of people gathered to watch him die.  It brings tears to my eyes.  He gave his life for all of us – every single person regardless of race, gender, and beliefs – and here we are, debating about who we should show mercy to.

I know we are flawed and yet, I also know that Jesus is not because his mercy is not selective.  While on the Earth, he showed it to so many in need and to those whom others rejected.  Even as he was in agony and being mocked, he said these words:

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

I am sure that I will post things and delete them because I know that it is better to be silent than unkind.  I’ll probably still be a bit snarky because humor is one of my defense mechanisms (a coping skill I developed over the years).  I know I might make me some people uncomfortable or angry or whatever, but I will always try to LOVE like Jesus; regardless if someone is “worthy” of it.

Jesus literally was a bleeding heart – both while walking on this Earth and while hanging on the cross.  Of all the confusion going on, this is something I will never be confused about.

Friends, even if we don’t agree about politics, can we at least agree to love like Jesus?

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This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.  If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person?  Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.  (1 John 3:16-18)

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. (Romans 12:9)

The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  There is no commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12:31)

And now these three remain:  faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:33)

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. (Ephesians 4:2)

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment.  The one who fears is not made perfect in love. (1 John 4:18-19)

Momma-in-Waiting {Part 5}

Dear Momma-in-Waiting,

It is that time of year again, isn’t it?  Images of happy children during the holidays are flooding your social media threads, but you are still waiting, aren’t you?  You are trying, with every ounce of your soul, to make the world seem simple, but you are in the most complicated battle of your life.  Appointments, tests, needles, counseling, hope, disappointment, prayer, tears, anger, confusion, frustration, and countless moments of utter heartbreak all seem to color the path to which you walk.  For some of you, there are no needles, no appointments, no tests, and no tangible sense of hope.  Barrenness has settled in and made you its home.

You are a Momma-in-Waiting, and the world seems to be passing you by.

You hear others speak about their babies.  You view their first pictures with Santa, and watch videos of them singing Christmas songs.  They are all growing, aren’t they?  They are learning new words, discovering the excitement of first steps, and giving their Momma’s an array of challenges on a daily basis.  Yet, there you sit.  Listening, smiling, even laughing at some moments, and looking upon their babies with a longing that is only matched by your own determination to get through this season of your life.

You wonder, “When will it be my turn?  When will I hear first words, see first steps, and be challenged day in and day out?  When will I get to experience a Christmas flooded with the laughter of children?  When will I no longer be a Momma-in-Waiting?

You are dwelling in that seemingly lonely place.  This time of year is especially hard, isn’t it?  The holidays, New Year’s Resolutions, fresh starts, and images of children splattered across almost every single piece of media only seems to remind you of what you long for…

a child…

your child…

your blessed answer to prayer.

Dear Momma-in-Waiting,

When your friends are trying to avoid pregnancy, you are screaming for it.  When your friends are complaining about pregnancy, you turn your ears away.  Your heart sinks in a bit, and you just want to silence their words.

It took me many long years to meander my way through the thickness of barrenness.  It seemed an even longer journey to until my number was called and I knew that I would be a mother, forever….when adoption called my name.

It’s not easy.  You know that all too well.  It is not understood.  Nothing seems to be anymore.  Infertility is truly one of the unexplored territories in the human existence.  The ones who travel through it understand, but the ones who do not, really have no clue.

Even after adoption and the gift of three children, I still find myself thinking back to my surgery.  Sometimes, I still wonder what my birth children would have been like, or look like.  I wonder if they would have had resembled my grandmother, or had the dimple of my husband’s chin.

If there are a few words of comfort that I can offer (and I’m a woman of many words, so this will be hard for me) it is, do not stop praying.  Do not stop seeking the ends (whatever they are) to meet your goal.

If, at the end of all the medical trials, you are told your only hope for motherhood is to adopt, it is okay to grieve this.  It is okay to cry fountains of tears over barrenness.  I know I have.

It is okay to get angry, question why you are battling this stupid war taking place in your body, and wonder if the very Lord you have staked your eternity in has forgotten about the life you are living on Earth.

Dear Momma-in-Waiting,

One day when things seem to make more sense, you will look back on this time in your life, look up to the heavens, and say, “I get it now.”  You will be able to share your Christmas pictures, wait until the kiddos are asleep to put out gifts, and plan for months how you are going to surprise them during the holidays.

One day, you will wake up on Christmas morning to the sweet excitement of…

a child…

your child…

your blessed answer to prayer.

 

Life in the Wasteland

“When I look at my kids, I think about my life. I think about the wasteland of broken dreams, shallow impulses, thick tears, and sorrowful ache. This is what my life could have and even perhaps should have been consumed by. However, during my walkabout, I found meaning. I found life in the wasteland.”

This is an excerpt from my story that I have been writing for the past few years.  I’m not sure what the Lord wants to do with it, but I’m so hopeful that it will touch the lives of those walking sterile in a non-sterile world.

For many years, I walked around feeling as though I was absent of anything that gave life. I was sterile. I was empty. I was broken.

I was a wasteland.

In my brokenness, the Lord met me. He lifted my head. He reminded me that my life is not a wasteland. It is not devoid of life, or anything that gives life to others.

In His mercy, I became a parent. Through my experience, I have learned that I am a broken vessel, but I am mended. I am mended through the gift of salvation, freedom, and grace.

For my friends who are walking barren, I want you to know that you are not destitute. It may feel like it. The emptiness may feel as though it will swallow your soul, but dear friend, it will not.

You are filled with the very Love that has seized the hearts of many. You sway to the rhythm of Mercy.

You are sculpted with incredible, grace-driven Sacrifice.

I am not a wasteland. We are not wastelands! We are children of the Lord. We are unique. We are not perfect. We are broken…but….

We are Redeemed!

For my friends who are struggling with infertility, whose every breath is filled with the desire to be a Mamma, I encourage you to cling to the Anchor of Hope.

Photo Credit: Ann Conn
Photo Credit: Ann Conn

Through the Lord, we are filled with life.  We able to bloom despite the seemingly insurmountable odds surrounding us.  We are not wastelands.

Hollowness to Hallelujah

HannahHannah was very bitter. She sobbed and sobbed. She prayed to the Lord.  She made a promise to him. She said, “Lord, you rule over all. Please see how I’m suffering! Show concern for me! Don’t forget about me! Please give me a son! If you do, I’ll give him back to you. Then he will serve you all the days of his life. He’ll never use a razor on his head. He’ll never cut his hair.”

As Hannah kept on praying to the Lord, Eli watched her lips. She was praying in her heart. Her lips were moving. But she wasn’t making a sound.

Eli thought Hannah was drunk. He said to her, “How long will you keep on getting drunk? Get rid of your wine.”

“That’s not true, sir,” Hannah replied. “I’m a woman who is deeply troubled. I haven’t been drinking wine or beer. I was telling the Lord all of my troubles. Don’t think of me as an evil woman. I’ve been praying here because I’m very sad. My pain is so great.”  -1 Samuel 1:10-20  

Wow.  I’ve read these words before, but tonight, they seemed to jump out at me. The words Hannah exclaimed before the Lord are ones that most of us in equal pain have exclaimed.   The pleading, begging, and deep sorrow is one that is so poignantly written about in Scripture.  The feelings that Hannah expressed are ones that have been and still are translatable for many women throughout our history.

Bitterness, sorrow, sadness, suffering, troubled hearts, and painful days are all descriptive of the walk that so many women who find themselves barren are struggling through. They are told not to be bitter, and that their sorrow will turn to joy, but many find themselves without the sweet ending to their bitterness and sorrow.  They know their heart is troubled and that they are suffering, but still, they walk each day in faith with a heaviness unlike any other.

And the pain, oh the pain…They walk each step as if their hearts are being ripped out.  It is a deep and hollowing pain that comes along with barrenness.  It is one equal to the agony of a broken heart.  It is hard to describe, yet, so obviously felt by many.

As I read the words of Hannah tonight, I thought, “I once prayed just like her.  I once felt her bitterness, and her sobering sorrow.  I once suffered.  I once was troubled, and I truly pleaded with the Lord.”  

As a matter of fact, I distinctly remember calling out and surrendering to the Lord in my anguish with the words, “Father, you know my heart’s desire.  I trust Your will, Lord, but I just want a chance at being a mother.  I just want to experience what it feels like to hold a baby in my arms as a mother, if just for a moment.  Father, I want this.  I need this.”

Soon after this prayer, we received our first foster care placement of an infant boy whom we ended up adopting nearly two years later.  It was not long after this tear-filled pleading that I held a baby in my arms and felt the all-encompassing love of being a mother.  It was not long after this surrender that my heart stepped outside of itself, and suddenly, my entire world changed.  Everything changed.

The Lord has stifled my anguish three times over through the adoption of two sons, and one daughter.

If you are a Momma-in-Waiting, a modern-day Hannah, or a soul that is in despair, I know your pain must be great.  It is one that is held within the silent walls of your beating heart.  It is a heaviness that is rarely felt, except by others who are walking the same road.  I want you to know, though, that our Father in Heaven hears you. He sees your pain.  He knows your desires, and He has already prescribed your future.

Our God is the same God who heard the pleadings of Hannah.  He answered her prayer when she became pregnant and delivered Samuel.  The miraculous love of our Father is that He continues to answers the pleadings of His children.

He is not deaf to the misery of your heart.

I do not know what you are going through right now.  I do not know how the Lord will work it all out, but I know that faith during this difficult time is essential.  The footsteps you walk while you are facing the all-encompassing loneliness of infertility are ones that need to be taken in faith.

If you are overwhelmed in grief, lift up your heart and your hands to the Lord. Remind yourself of how the Lord answered Hannah’s prayer, and the prayers of a multitude of fellow sisters throughout history.  Remind yourself that YOU, my dear sister of an empty womb, YOU are precious in the sight of Your Father in Heaven.

May the Lord bless You.  May His glorious light rescue you from the darkness you are feeling surrounded by.  Like Hannah, may the God of all creation, answer your prayer, and create a miracle in your life.  Through the light, love, and promise of God, may the hardship of hollowness be turned to one that exclaims, “Hallelujah!”

Love Changes Lives (Happy Birthday, Son)

Happy 7th Birthday, Son.

The night you were born was beautiful.  Your birth mother wailed in agony of labor pains, while I laid in my bed wallowing in my own kind of labor pains.  There was beauty in both of these moments.  One was painted with strokes of joy, while the other, strokes of despair; and yet, both were beautiful.  I did not know that my tearful prayer that night collided with the birth of you.

Two days later, we were asked to take you in.  Two days later, I held you for the first time.  I cannot think of anything more amazing than that.photo (5)

Love knows no boundaries, no genetic markers, no birthing, and no blood lines.  Love takes hold of opportunities and transforms them into beauty.

Before there was you, it was just me and my infertility.  Before you, my heart was only half-developed. Before there was you, I only knew one layer of love.

Love grabbed a hold of me the first time I saw you…instantly.

In an instant, I was separated from infertility for the first time in more years than I can remember.  For the first time, I felt whole.  For the first time, I also felt complete fear.  I feared loving and losing you.

I wished I would have been there the day you were born.  I wished I could have heard your first cry, held you while you welcomed Earthly air into your lungs, and whispered loving words to both you and your birth mother.  I would have been there had I known your circumstances.  I would have stood by your birth mother as she was told she would leave the hospital without you.  I would have done this because I honor her, and I love you.

I prayed for you the entire time we were fostering you.  I petitioned the Lord on your behalf, and on your birth mother’s.  How could I love you, and not want your birth mother to experience the same kind of love?  How could I look at myself in the mirror everyday knowing that I had been gifted with you, and not for one moment, want the best for her?  How could I allow love to overfill my heart, and not have any leftover for her?

Happy 7th Birthday, Son.  Love took a hold of me the moment I saw you.  

Love still takes hold of us.  It tempers us in our moments of frustration.  It claims us in our times of messes.  It wraps around us in our seasons of sadness.  Love holds us together in our moments of hardship, and it leaps with us in our times of joy.

picture 40Love seizes my heart time and again when thinking of you.  I happen to believe you are one of the most endearing, unique, and important little boys that has ever existed.  You are wonderfully ambitious, loving, spirited, and an incredible child of God.  Please don’t forget how beautiful, and deeply loved you are.

I don’t consider these past seven years to be lucky ones.  They are much more than that.  I consider them to be ones that have proven that nothing compares to the capacity that love has to intervene in our lives.

Happy 7th Birthday, Son.  You’ve given us seven amazingly beautiful years.

Love knows no boundaries.  It does not comprehend genetic markers.  It has no birthing or blood lines necessary.

Love truly takes hold of opportunities and transforms them into beauty.

Love changes lives.