The Other Shoe

This week I feel compelled to write 'the rest of the story' as Paul Harvey used to say. While last week's birthday was heart-wrenching for me, it was also a day of celebration. Let me explain.

Remember if you will that my unplanned pregnancy took place in an era where that sort of thing was not celebrated nor hardly discussed. I was sent away to a maternity home to be pregnant, give birth, place the child then return home as if nothing had happened.

The God of my childhood seemed to be silent. And although I attended church every time the doors opened be it for youth group or choir or services, I was pregnant. Not in my wildest dreams had that ever been my reality.

Unknown to me at the time, the God of my childhood was indeed present and at work. I just couldn't see it until one night, close to the birth of my child, I felt that same God calling me to him. I was sitting in a church service, for we had many on the campus where the maternity home was located, and I felt a presence or heard a voice or some combination of those things. I knew I was not alone. Not for the sea of people around me, but for the peace I felt on the inside. Finally. There was peace.

And that was the cause for the celebration side of things last week. That same God who reached down and pulled me out of the pit is the same God who, 26 years later, is still by my side. He's the same one who carries me through weeks like last week and fights for me when I have nothing left.

He's still calling me, and still teaching me things about himself. Despite the sadness of last week, that fact gives me the strength to smile and have peace and continue putting one foot in front of the other.

If you want to know more, feel free to email me.

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