June 2015
My daughter's mother died
last month. A strange sentence even to my ears. She was my
daughter's birth mother but she and I agreed later that I was her
spiritual mother. I got to talk to her before she passed at age 54
from ovarian cancer. We talked a bit about the conversation we had
had 35 years ago. My husband and I were foster parents years ago.
We had a tiny baby placed with us for a few months and then
returned to her parents. It was hard to see that little one go back
to a domestic violence situation but it was the law. Months passed
and one day I got a call from her birth mother saying that she wanted
me to adopt this baby. She said that God had spoken to her and that
now she understood that she had given birth to this baby but that I
was her “real” mother. I had met this 19 year old for a total of
no more than an hour. I went into shock. This is a long and involved
story and I wish there was time to share with you all the nuances of
what God wrought in each of our lives during the next few months.
Some of them are still hard for me to comprehend after all of these
years. A miracle happened and I had the privilege
of being part of it. It
brought me to my knees and strengthened my faith.
I am grateful.