About Me

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I've been married to my husband, Michael, for almost 25 years. I'm a mom to a biological son and an adopted son from Colombia, and I'm also a spiritual mom to my adopted son's older brother, who I claim as a son in my heart. I'm bilingual and love to work with and relate to Spanish-speaking children and families. I've been a teacher to students from all sorts of backgrounds and cultures for the last 20+ years. I'm also an author and a certified Biblical counselor. I'm in a new empty nest season in a new location far from where I raised my boys, so I'm definitely in a stage of rediscovering myself, my interests, and my purpose.

Surviving the Valley Series

Surviving the Valley Series
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Sunday, October 5, 2014

Flashbacks

Every once in awhile, I will get a sudden flashback that can completely warm my heart. Today I remembered sitting out on the sidewalk in front of my church on a Wednesday evening many years ago. I had permission to call Juan David on Wednesday evenings around 7:30, so I would step out of my weekly Bible study to sit outside and talk to him for about 15 to 30 minutes. We'd just sent all of our dossier (adoption paperwork) to Colombia, so I confidently assumed we'd be completing the adoption very shortly after that (based on other people's stories who had recently adopted a KidSave child.

I still remember that fateful phone conversation, one that I wished so bad I would have bitten my tongue. Juan David knew all along about our intent to adopt him, so I told him I didn't think it would be much longer. Ugh. Can I plead absolute ignorance on my part? Pure naivety? Over-confidence?

That very month, Colombia denied our petition to adopt him. We never got to complete that adoption of the eleven-year-old boy I so dearly loved. I never got to fulfill that promise, "it shouldn't be much longer now." I carried incredible guilt over that phone call for quite a long time.

Tonight that conversation out on the sidewalk came flashing back into my memory when I dropped Juan David off at church for a high school youth activity and watched him walk across that very sidewalk before walking in the doors with a huge smile on his face, eager to spend the evening with his friends, oblivious to the memory suddenly coming back to me.

A miracle.

1 comment:

  1. Hi... I would love the chance to connect with you privately-- I have a similar story -- my first Christmas with my Colombian adopted children was 2013 as well... I have 3 daughters... and am curious about Julian... please e-mail me at rachelpennings @ rogers . com (no spaces ;)

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