Friday, February 24, 2006

Take Care

Since I've started searching for my birth mom, I've found myself thinking about both the worst-case and the best-case scenarios. It is really scary to be this out of control of a situation; one minute I'm thinking about what it will be like to meet my mom and another minute I'm trying to figure out how I'll react when I find out she doesn't want to contact me.

Someone asked me the other night if I was prepared for what it would be like if my mom doesn't want to contact me. I thought for a second and told her no. I don't know how you could be prepared for that. I've thought about it. I've thought about how I won't have any idea what to say to anyone who asks me about it. I've thought about what I would write on this blog. I've thought about whether I'd be able to go to work that day. But thinking about those things doesn't prepare you.

The other day I was listening to Copeland's album, Beneath Medicine Tree (one of my favorites, highly recommended), while my mind was racing through possible outcomes that this search could have. I'm not sure if this happens to anyone else, but sometimes when I'm listening to music, something clicks and the lyrics suddenly jump out at me and I "get it":
Don't lift a finger, let Me show you
The only way to let this go
Don't lift a finger, let Me hold you
Hold you here until the pain it has all gone
I'll take care of you
Have faith that when you call My name
I'll be there, I'll be right there

I've learned a lot about adoption, myself and faith over the past few weeks. Last week, through this song, I learned to just stop worrying about it. There's nothing I can do to change the outcome of all of this, and I know I'm not alone - I have a supportive husband, an amazing group of friends, a group of bloggers who really do know exactly how I feel, and most importantly the promise that God will be there with me - to take care of me. So I just need to let it go. Instead of worrying about it, I'm starting to do something I've never done before - praying for my birth mom.

I think it was a combination of being so convinced that adoption wasn't supposed to be discussed and the feeling that my birth mom wasn't a real person that made me never even consider praying for her. That is really weird - the first time you talk to God about your mom. Praying for her is a little scary, too, though, because it makes her seem even more real, but it is so much less stressful to pray for her than to worry about what her reaction will be. If you pray, maybe you could say one for her, too.

2 Comments:

Blogger Cookie said...

It's late - just read your post - almost cried. And tonight, before I settle down to sleep, I will say a prayer for your mom.

The first present my son gave me was a framed photo of him. It is hanging in my bedroom and I now see him every morning when I wake up - a good start to my day.

11:06 PM  
Blogger Cheryl said...

I think about and pray for my first mother just about every day. It does make her more real, thinking about what's she's doing that day and how she's feeling.

8:33 AM  

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