All We Have

This morning I was reminded of some really vital truths, and at the same time I realized and saw some new truths.

First, regarding free will, it was explained to me that the free will which Adam and Eve experienced is no longer available to us except through Christ. I will attempt to unpack that statement a little, as it may not make a lot of sense otherwise. When God created Adam and Eve and the garden, he gave them reign over everything and the ability to choose freely what they desired to do. The ONLY command that he gave them was not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. As you probably know, the serpent (Satan) tempted them, and ultimately they chose to disobey God and eat the fruit. It was in this instant that they and all of mankind were tainted. Now, left to our own devices, we will always choose evil. We doubt God. We doubt his commands. We want to be in charge, to rule our own worlds. And we choose evil every time. Only in Christ can we now uphold the law, because he has upheld it for us. This is important to get right: the take home truth is not that we can obey the law through Christ; the truth is that Christ obeyed the law for us, therefore we can uphold the law by faith in him and the work that he has done already.

Secondly, God is all we have. In Deuteronomy 5, where the ten commandments are first written, we find the first commandment: You shall have no other Gods before me. I have always seen this in what our pastor this morning called a “limiting” view. And in reality, there are limits imposed by the command, there are things that are forbidden. What we tend to miss is the limitless promise that is wrapped up in that command. The promise is that in God we have protection, redemption, salvation, freedom, and a whole host of limitless blessings. What we often don’t see in the command is that not only is God jealous for our love and loyalty, but there is NO OTHER god that accepts us and offers us anything even close to those promises. All the things and people and entities that we want so desperately to trust in will fail us. They will leave us hanging out to dry. They fall short. God commands us to place Him first because He knows that we have no other viable options. Wow, what a wonderful new perspective! It seems so obvious to me now, but I really didn’t see this before. It is the same with all the other commandments: they are limitless, not limiting. Think back to Adam and Eve. If they had simply trusted in God’s wisdom, not questioning why they should have a “limit” imposed on them, embracing the unlimited world around them, we would all still be enjoying the paradise of the garden of Eden.

Thank God that when we have nowhere else to turn, we have Him. I wish I believed that and embraced His promises every day. Unfortunately I am just like Adam and Eve, questioning my limits and looking for alternative sources of hope and joy. It is God’s grace that I come up empty handed at every turn, and He is always there waiting to provide for every need.

Bebo Norman, one of my favorite songwriters, has a beautiful song that acknowledges the very fact that God is all we have:

Nothing Without You

Take these hands
And lift them up
For I have not the strength to praise You near enough
See, I have nothing
I have nothing without You

And take my voice and pour it out
Let it sing the songs of mercy I have found
For I have nothing
I have nothing without You

And all my soul needs is all Your love
To cover me, so all the world will see
That I have nothing without You

Take my body and build it up
May it be broken as an offering of love
For I have nothing
I have nothing without You

And all my soul needs is all Your love
To cover me so all the world will see
That I have nothing
That I love You, yeah
With all my heart
With all my soul
With all my mind
And all the strength I can find

Take my time here on this earth
And let it glorify all that You are worth
For I am nothing I am nothing without You

Photo Every Now and Then #2

Despite my frequent lamentations regarding the onset of Fall, which leads to the inevitable Winter, I have to admit that Fall is an aesthetically pleasing time of year. I caught this glimpse on today's rainy afternoon walk with Kelsey. I'm not certain that it captures the moment very well, but the best part about this scene is the colorful wet leaves on the ground with a pattern of car tracks interrupting their blanketing effect. This is the closest in Georgia that we usually get to what it might look like to have snow on the ground.

Atlanta, October 2006

Adoption Story ::: Reunion

Well, I’m not sure exactly where to begin in describing this past weekend, other than to say that it was very, very good and that God is very, very good. I’ll do my best to recount what I can put into words.

I arrived at the airport on Friday night in a fairly normal but excited state. A little over an hour later, I was seeing and hugging the woman who 28 years ago gave me life, which of course I can never adequately thank or repay her for, ever. She handed me a huge bouquet of roses, which I did not at the time count or read the card for. That was the end of my state of normalcy for the rest of the night and most of the weekend. The next hour or so was marked by our awkward attempts to get her bags, get to the car, get out of the airport, and finally sit down somewhere so that we could think and talk. I began to realize after sitting down at the restaurant that I would not be able to eat, as my stomach was in knots and getting worse by the minute. After having seen Marcia in pictures, having read her written thoughts, and having spoken on the phone, it was still surreal to see her sitting in front of me, staring back at me. She seemed so calm and collected, and she thankfully had the composure to make conversation and did a pretty good job of getting at least some conversation out of me. I honestly don’t remember much of what we talked about over our meal, but I think we mostly caught up on things that we knew about each other already from previous communications. After she ate and I picked at my food, we had a little coffee and then left to go to her hotel. I went up to her room with her, and we each had gifts that we wanted to give one another. I sat down for a little while and we finally did talk about some things from the past, about my birth and adoption and her decisions and feelings from that time. Our fears and concerns were revealed, and it was amazing to realize the work that God had done in both of our hearts to prepare us for this time. We found that there is no resentment or denial or regret, only the realization that God’s will was done then and is still being done now. With more ground still to cover, we decided to call it a night, as it was after midnight, and I returned to my home for the night. When I got home, I set down the roses on my kitchen counter, grabbed a vase, and saw the card when I went to open the container. It was only then that I noticed there were 28 roses in that box, “one for every year we have been apart”. Wow, I wish I had been sitting down when I noticed that. My friends Holly and Emily from Augusta were staying with me that night, so I spent a little time updating them on the night and pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Yes, I had actually just met my birth mother, and yes, she was real. Wow.

For the remainder of the weekend, we continued to catch up on lost time, lost years, and we gradually became more comfortable with one another. My stomach didn’t fully recover until Tuesday, but I was able to eat a little more throughout the weekend. We found that we have some things in common that are genetic and some that may not be genetic. We talked, laughed, cried, and mostly just relaxed. We both talked to our respective families, who were all sharing in our excitement, and we talked about meeting them all in the near future. Saturday afternoon, we went to Piedmont Park and enjoyed a gorgeous Fall day here in Atlanta. Saturday evening we met some of our respective friends for dinner. Holly and Emily joined us, and Marcia’s friend Jeanette was also able to join us. It was amazing to be able to share each other and our new relationship with those close friends. After dinner, Marcia and I followed Holly and Emily to the airport to greet Julie, who was returning from a mission trip to Ghana. We visited for a few short but worthwhile moments, then Holly, Emily, and Julie returned to Augusta. Sunday, Marcia and I attended a church that I was visiting for the second time. It was a wonderful service in its own right, but it was especially a blessing have her there alongside me in worship. Sunday night, we cooked dinner at my place, made a fire in the fireplace, and enjoyed sharing photos with each other. Marcia gave me a nice album with pictures of her family, now also part of my family, and she introduced me to everyone that I will soon meet in person. Knowing that I have a very small family, she has been very careful to slowly reveal to me the amount of people that are now ready to embrace me as one of their own. I have to admit, this is a strange new thing, and thankfully she and they are all very sensitive to my position as I get to know them.

Monday afternoon, I took Marcia to the airport. We spent the last few minutes of the weekend realizing that it still didn’t seem quite real, that we didn’t seem quite real to each other. But we are real, and this is real, and we are blessed.

No Words

I have written a few times before about different inspiring moments or people that have reminded me why my new career direction is going to be so wonderful. Today I experienced a moment that brought that inspiration to a whole new level. I actually met this man, who is probably in his late 50s or 60s, a few weeks ago in the physical therapy clinic that I have been rotating with. He had experienced a stroke 10-12 years ago and was walking with some trouble but mostly complained of back pain, which was why he was seeing the PT. In addition to some muscoloskeletal difficulties, he has a very hard time talking, almost as though his tongue is too large and just doesn't cooperate in the mouth movement process. You may have seen this muffled effect before in a patient or someone you know after a stroke. While his mind seemed to be working just fine, his communication could not keep up with his thoughts. Well, I was in the PT clinic today and in rolls this man in a wheelchair and dressed in hospital issued clothing. Two weeks ago he had walked in on his own as an outpatient, so I immediately went over to him to say hello and inquire about why he had been admitted to the hostpital. We began what I knew would be a difficult conversation for us both, for him in trying to talk and for me in trying to understand, but we were getting through it pretty well. Then he tried to say something that I couldn't understand. I asked him to repeat what he said, and I still didn't understand. He eventually motioned that he wanted to write down what he was trying to say, because I just wasn't able to decipher his words. I handed him my pen and a scrap piece of paper, and he wrote down the following:

I don't really have the right words to describe how this hit me as I read it, looking into this man's kind blue eyes and realizing how hard every day must be for him. I can only pray that as I interact more and more with people like him that I will be a source of comfort and induce hope in the face of suffering or shame. It is an honor to be given such an opportunity to come alongside other people in this world.

The Artist in Me

Today my classmates and I spent the whole day in the fabrication lab. Our task was to take a plaster positive mold of a foot (up to just below the knee) and modify it to a state of perfection for the creation of an Ankle Foot Orthosis. First of all, it does not shock me entirely that a certain amount of artistic skill is required in this profession. I knew that well before I got to this point. It does shock me, however, just how deep down the artist in me is hiding. I have been getting so darn frustrated with trying to create a masterpiece out of plaster. I had to stop a few times today just to take a deep breath, walk out into the basement hallway for fresh air, and give myself a pep talk. I know that practice will greatly improve my skills, and eventually I will find this to be a much more natural process. Until then, I will be trying to coax the artist in me to come out of her shell, and quickly.

Cold Weather, Cold Heart

The last two days here in Atlanta have been very nice Fall days, but the morning chill in the air is not my idea of nice. I don't know what the temp was this morning, but yesterday when I left my place before dawn it was 42 degrees outside. Today after I took the dog out for her morning walk, I began to wonder (as I do every Fall), if I would make it through this upcoming Winter or not. As an extremely cold-natured person, I fear the onset of crisp, cold mornings and the constant need to be prepared and dressed properly for low temperatures. I know it is a bit dramatic to be wondering if I will make it through the Winter, but honestly, the thought crossed my mind.

So I went to church this morning, and the sermon was about how God is our refuge. He is our refuge from everything: from the world around us, from people who harm us, from diseases and pains that plague us, and from our very own selves, our guilty consciences. The pastor challenged us with the calling as believers to not only cling to that refuge for ourselves but also to point others to the refuge. The church I went to this morning is particularly focused on ministering to and offering refuge to the homeless population in Midtown Atlanta.

What do these two little stories have in common? I realized as I was sitting there at church in my nice warm clothes with my nice leather coat just how absolutely ridiculous it is for me to fear the impending Winter. There are people all around this city, who I probably pass every day and usually don't even notice, who are legitimately wondering if they will make it through this Winter. Unlike me -- worried about running from my warm home to my heated car and from my heated car to a classrooom with heat, all the while wearing many layers of warm clothing to keep me warm -- those people do not have enough layers of clothing to stay warm, they don't have a bed with sheets and comforter and heated blanket, they don't have hot coffee every morning and hot chocolate whenever they want it, they don't know if they will have a balanced meal each day to help their bodies work harder maintaining normal body temperature, and they probably don't even have a warm heart to encourage them and point them to a refuge that far outweighs all the earthly comforts that they lack. I hope that my cold heart will be warm enough this Winter to stop thinking about my insignificant inconveniences and lead someone with real needs to a refuge from the cold and to the One who provides refuge from this life as well.

Third Verse

A few weeks ago, ok maybe a month, I wrote about one of my favorite hymns. In that post, on September 9, I only included the first verse. I can't decide which verse is my favorite, but I also really like the third verse, which goes like this:

"O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannon close my heart to thee;
I climb the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not in vain,
That morn shall tearless be."

You may have noticed that the word "climb" in the third line sounds unfamiliar, as the hymn today has replaced the original phrase with "I trace the rainbow through the rain." I don't know why that change was made, but someone once told me that it was because the thought of climbing a rainbow sounded too idealistic or fantastical for a hymn. Let me just say that I have read the Bible, and God wants more than anything for us to imagine the ideal, to trust Him for it, to cling to it, and to hope in it.

George Matheson wrote this hymn at a point when he was experiencing anything but joy, yet he starts this verse with recognizing and reminding himself that God Himself is Joy. How wonderful is it to know and trust that God chooses to seek us through our pain!?! Don't read that the wrong way. Matheson does not indicate that we seek God in our pain, though we may. He reminds us that despite the state of our own hearts, God WILL seek us in the midst of our pain. He goes on to reiterate, we CANNOT close our hearts to Him. When he writes about climbing a rainbow, you can just see this triumphant picture of physically grabbing hold of a symbol (the rainbow) which God gives us to indicate His unwavering faithfulness to us. It is clearly written in Genesis 9:12-15 after the great flood:

"And God said, 'This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come: I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.'"

So when Matheson sees himself clinging to this rainbow, this promise, he literally feels that "the promise is not in vain." He is confident that the "morn shall tearless be."

We also should be so confident. We can climb the same rainbow, we can feel the same promise, and we are sought by the same God who is our Joy.

Orthotics in Action

Today I had the extreme pleasure of seeing the rubber hit the road, or more specifically the orthosis hit the patient. My clinical rotation today was with the PT clinic at Atlanta's VA Hospital, and after lunch a patient came in by wheelchair. I immediately noticed that he was wearing custom orthoses on both legs, so I wandered over to listen in on his appointment. As it turned out, he had been wearing those orthoses for 2 years and was going down the hall after his PT appointment to pick up a new set of custom orthoses. His devices started at the foot and went all the way up to his thigh, known as a Knee-Ankle-Foot-Orthosis, or KAFO. As I was talking to this young man and finding out about his injury (a gunshot wound), I realized that he was really motivated to learn to walk with his orthoses on. I commented to him about his motivation, and he explained that he had become more motivated recently because his wife left him. Apparently, in his mind, or maybe she actually told him this, he wasn't getting better fast enough. I couldn't believe this, though I know it must not be all that uncommon. Thankfully, this guy had a pretty good attitude, though he was obviously hurt by being left. Instead of sinking further, he was working hard to improve and make the most of his potential with a spinal cord injury. When he put on his new orthoses later that afternoon, the smile on his face and renewed hope in his eyes were enough to keep me motivated for long time.

Beautiful Days

This weekend has been one of the most beautiful that I have noticed in quite a while. First, I drove to Auburn yesterday for the football game against Arkansas. While the action on the field was not exactly beautiful, the lovely plains of Auburn were as beautiful as ever. I snapped a few photos as I was walking though the campus, amazed at some of the changes that have been made since I last visited. I also captured a nice shot of the stadium, filled to the brim with orange as the sun shone down and the breeze (obviously not captured in the photo) kept us all comfortable despite the warm rays. I enjoyed a few hours of tailgating with some friends who I used to work with. As you can see, we were happy to be hanging out despite the disappointing loss.

This concourse used to be a street!

Jordan-Hare Stadium at Full Capacity

Tailgating with DeLisa and Nick

Secondly, today as I was driving home from church, I was taking in the general beauty around me here in Atlanta. I wish I could have just kept driving for hours, watching the leaves fall, seeing the sun peek through the trees, and enjoying the relative quietness that can be found here on a Sunday. As the weather is turning cool, it seems that the crispness felt in the air translates to a crispness that you can see, as though your eyes are affected by the lowering temperature. It's kind of hard to describe. Does anyone else know what I mean by that?

Adoption Story

I realized recently that I have not been posting much about the happenings of life. There is a reason for this, as I have been preoccupied from many of the everyday happenings of life. What I have been occupied with is a fairly long but wonderful story, so go ahead and sit down before you read it.

Many of you out there who know me know that I was adopted as a baby. If you did not know, now you do! My parents (I will say adoptive parents just to clarify) had a son already, who is now my older brother, but they could not have any more children. After many years of heartache and distress over this, as they desired to have another child, they were presented with the potential to adopt. Enter Marcia into the story. Marcia was a young college student, pregnant and unable to support a child while in school. She could have quickly gotten out of this situation, but she loved that baby (me) enough to go through with her pregnancy and offer me a family who could raise and support me. After I was born, my parents took me home at the ripe age of 3 days old, and I was instantly a part of the family. I don't remember this, but I can tell by the smiles on their faces in old photos that I was truly cherished as the newest member of the family.

For as long as I can remember, I have known that I was adopted, and it was never really a big family issue. I didn't ask too many questions, though I had some, and I went on with life as though I had no unknown past. I never once had to doubt that my parents loved me, despite the fact that I often tested their love like every good teenager does.

When I was 18 years old and a Freshman at Auburn, my dad told me that my birth mother had contacted the adoption attorney and made her contact information available. To be quite honest, I didn't know what to do with that news at the time. So, instead of facing it and asking myself hard questions, I tucked it away. I often thought about the fact that a whole new world of information was only a phone call or letter away, but something always held me back from making the move. I knew that one day I would want to make that connection, to thank the woman who so selflessly gave me up, and to find out where I came from. I shared that part of me with various close friends over the years, and they inevitably encouraged me to move forward. Still, I waited.

After I graduated from college and started working and establishing my life as an adult, I started to think more seriously about making that contact. During my first several years after college, I learned a lot about myself and about God, and I began to feel more comfortable with the uncertaintly of what and who I might find. It was comforting to know that my birth mother, somewhere out there, had made the first move. She wanted to contact me, and that took away one of the huge fears of whether she would want to know me at all. Slowly but surely, I began to warm up to the idea of exploring this unknown territory. During the summer of 2005, I asked a few close friends to start praying with me specifically about moving forward. Over the next several months, I talked to both of my parents about my desire to finally make that move. They were both more supportive than I could have asked, and I first met with the attorney in May of this year. My dad went with me to discuss with him how to proceed from there, as we knew now it was only a matter of time before I would finally be in contact with my birth mother. He suggested that we each write a letter to one another and give them to him so that he could distribute them to us without identifying information. Though we were both ready to be in direct contact, we agreed to take this cautious route to get the ball rolling. I cannot really explain why, but it took me all summer to get around to writing that letter. I guess I was still putting a lot of pressure on the situation, and I was still a little apprehensive about things. Finally, I managed to write the long overdue letter of thanks and introduction to my birth mother. I added a few family photos from recent years and hand-delivered it to the attorney while I was in Baton Rouge in late July. Little did I know, Marcia had written her letter to me within a week or two of our initial agreement. Yet again, I was guilty of stalling and prolonging this moment that she had so long awaited. So, our letters were sent out shortly thereafter, and I first received Marcia's letter to me on August 3. Much to my surprise, I opened the supposedly anonymous letter to find that Marcia's name and address had been included with the forwarded package. I dug further and found an envelope marked, "To My Daughter". I took a deep breath and then furiously opened that envelope to find a handwritten letter that was overflowing with excitement and love far beyond what I had expected or hoped. I think I had been afraid to expect too much, but I realized very quickly that this woman would be a wonderful new addition to my life.

I soon wrote to Marcia directly, and we wrote back and forth for several weeks, and each new letter from her began to bring our whole situation into perspective for me. I had never allowed myself to immerse into the reality of where I came from and who I was. A huge part of that had to do with how little I knew of the history, but I also tended to try to live life outside of that reality. It is a strange thing, to be part of a family that took me in as a stranger, so I tried to just act normal and not let it bother me. So, without getting into all of the emotional details, lets just say that the first few weeks of communicating with Marcia were extremely eye-opening and transforming for me. I was facing for the first time this unknown person and starting to process her side of our story. At the same time, I was enjoying immensely getting to know a woman who has proven to be beautiful, genuine, loving, strong, wise, encouraging, and so much more. I have learned that Marcia is married but was not able to have any more biological children. In the face of that disappointment, she graciously adopted two sons who are both more than ten years my junior.

For several weeks now, we have been communicating more frequently by e-mail rather than snail mail. We have been able to send pictures, learn some of our similarities, and introduce our respective families to one another. As we quickly began to plow through all of this sharing, we have been anticipating when we will finally meet face-to-face. Our families are both extremely supportive of us and are sharing in our excitement, and they are also waiting to meet us when we can arrange it. Marcia has offered to fly up here to Atlanta from the New Orleans area in just 2 short weeks, and we will finally get to embrace one another after 28+ years of wondering and waiting! It is hard to believe all that has happened in such a short time, and it is hard to believe how wonderfully God has arranged every detail thus far. I trust that He will continue to bless each step we take as there will surely be many more questions to work through as we incorporate one another into our lives and families. So, without further adieu, take a look for yourself at our respective pictures. I think you will see the resemblance. Before long, we will be able to actually take a picture standing side by side!