Sometimes a difficult day comes out of nowhere, surprising you with its emotions and frustrations.
Today was one of those days.
Today was hard y’all. It’s been a broken down, runny mascara day full of emotions, thoughts swirling in my mind and an aching heart.
Today began as every day does, me settling into my chair at my computer with coffee in hand. As I browsed Facebook, I saw post after post of the same video. Of course my interest was peeked, so I had to click play.
Within seconds, the emotions were washing over me like waves crashing on a beach. Three times I had to stop watching and try to gather myself together.
All day I’ve thought of it. I’ve went back and watched it three times, every time the same emotions rise to the surface.
Today I’m throwing wide open the door to my story and my heart.
It’s a little bit scary, it’s risky, and the thought of it makes my heart beat faster. But I believe there is power in your story and nothing brings women together and binds hearts fast like stories.
I was adopted at 3 days old by the most amazing, loving parents any child could ever dream of. My childhood was truly magical.
My adoption was never hidden from me, I grew up knowing I had two sets of parents when other children only had one. Oh, how happy that made me. It made me different! I have a sneaking suspicion that may have been where the seed of ‘loving to be different’ was planted in my heart.
While I was loved, truly and deeply loved, I still spent days dreaming of where I came from. I can clearly remember listening to the song Somewhere Out There and having my heart warmed, knowing somewhere out there my birth-parents were looking at the exact same stars I was.
My hearts yearning to find my roots grew stronger the older I became. The day finally came, my Mom handed me a phone number…my birth-mothers phone number. With shaking hands and a pounding heart, I dialed the phone. And those first few spoken words will never be forgotten.
Hello.
Hi, is Lois there?
Yep, one minute….Hello.
Hi Lois, you don’t know me but I’m Amy…your daughter.
Finding my birth-father wouldn’t be as easy. Five years of dead-ends, private investigators and calling what felt like every man in the country with his name. The day I finally told my husband I give up, I came home to a message on my answering machine from his sister. Y’all, God was in every single step of this journey.
Finally, my life felt complete.
I had 14 years of a life overflowing with family. If you know me, you know that is my heart. I had exactly what I spent so many days dreaming of when I was little, two sets of parents.
17 months ago, my dream fell apart.
And with that, my birth-father walked out of our lives. He walked directly out of our lives and never looked back. With one quick push of the delete button, we were erased to never return.
I wrote this blog post last year, while trying to heal my aching heart.
I thought my heart was healing, until today. Watching Piece by Piece by Kelly Clarkson cracked my aching heart wide open again.
He’s missed out on 17 months of life. He’s missed my sons graduation from high school. He’s missed proms and freshman dances. He’s missed two Christmases, two Easters and eight birthdays. He’s missed watching his grandson turn into the most amazing man. He’s missed his granddaughter blossoming into a gorgeous young lady with a heart of gold. He’s missed life, our life.
How do you walk out on that?
And here I am once again in the ripped pages and the reflection of a broken heart. But in all my broken places, God has turned a my mess into a holy offering by pouring Himself right in. He has never left me down. And now those cracks allow Him to pour right out.
I know in the middle of my messy mascara days, He’s busy writing an amazing story.
If you’re reading this, I forgive you. It’s the one thing I can do. It’s the one thing I have the power to do. It’s what I have to do. It’s what God wants me to do.
And with that, my heart will begin to be put back together piece by piece.
