When all else seems lost, God sends His comfort

As I ponder God’s everlasting love, I try to apply it to my life.  After being rejected by my adoptive parents who CHOSE me to be their daughter.  I was once asked if I ever saw any good in my parents.  I replied that I did, but the good isn’t the point.  I wasn’t hurt by the good times.  Mostly I just pity them because they are living a lie and that must be a hard mask to maintain. 

In this next section, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful because my parents did do so much for me.  When I was eight, I was put in foster care along with my 4 younger siblings.  We were in need of a home and they opened their home to 5 young kids.  This sacrifice allowed us to stay together.  I was a child in a strange land, lost and confused and believed in a promise of security and family.

Many times in my young life my parents would ask us, “If we didn’t take you in what do you think we would be doing now?” We would shrug looking confused.  We never ASKED  them to take us in.  We were just kids.  “I think we would have taken a cruise.  We would probably have more money.  We wouldn’t have to deal with arguing kids.” The lists seem endless.   To my young ears, it sounded like they had just taken us in to seem like very good Christians.  I heard them say so many times, “These are our foster kids.  HAHA.  Yes, we took in ALL five.  Yes, they are from the same family.  Well, we just felt lead to do this.” Instead of using it as a ministry to help kids in need, I felt like they did it for a status boost.

Before the adoption, I was 10 and in trouble for back talking.  My parents called me, “Mouthy” or “Argumentative”, in my opinion, I wasn’t going to let them beat my will out of me.  So, I was grounded and my punishment was not being able to read.  That was the most ridiculous punishment ever.  My mom said she was using what ever she could to get my attention because yelling and beating me didn’t work.  So, she took away my addiction.  Well, I figured out a way around this punishment.  They weren’t really my parents, so I didn’t think it mattered.  I waited up until everyone had went to bed.  I used the bathroom light as a reading light and turned back to my chapter while laying in my bedroom doorway.  I was so wrapped up in my book I didn’t hear my mom making her nightly rounds to make sure we were asleep.  She started yelling at me and I blocked out what she was saying and went to bed. 

(For those who are curious, I was reading a book about a beagle who was suppose to be a hunting dog, but instead a boy worked all summer for the owner so he could take the puppy home.)

The next day, I was told to pack what I came there with because my social worker was coming to get me.  They said that they didn’t want me because I wouldn’t listen and obey.  I was that my social worker was about 10 minutes away and I had a decision to make.  “You have a choice.  You can do what you are told or leave.  If you leave you will never see your brothers and sisters again.” My mother said while holding the screen door open for me as my siblings were sobbing, begging me to stay.  That day I made the worst decision of my life.  As hard as it is, I can’t blame myself.  I didn’t know any better .

As the years went by, I was periodically reminded of that day.  My parents were partial to tell the story at gatherings with other adults.  Then everyone would look at me and expect me to say that I was glad I stayed.  Over time, as a self preservation method, you learn to say what keeps you from getting in trouble.  So, it was a lie because the only good thing was being with my siblings.  I would have never have left them.

After my family turned their backs on me and I married the most wonderful man in the world, I began to have the scales of deception peeled from my eyes.  Through true love and kindness, my husband and his family showed me what the true character of God is like.  Every day, I am learning to lean on the strength of God.  Everyday is a struggle. Just like the choir song that says, “It’s a struggle for survival/ I daily meet the foe/ out there on the battlefield/ sometimes we stand alone.” However, God gives us strength to make it through every day.

Today during my meditation, I prayed for a release of the stress that speaking out is causing me.  As I relaxed and focused on hearing God’s voice, I envisioned a closed fist.  As the stress washed over me, I saw the fist tighten so much that there were fingernail marks on the palm. I thought to myself that holding on the negative only allowed for hurting myself even more than I had been.  So, I opened the fist, finger by finger.  Inside I saw a feather.  To me it represented every foul, ugly feeling I had held on to.  I looked at it and thought of the years I had hoarded this tiny feather of resentment and bitterness.  It had became my ‘normal’.  Just the thought of letting go of my status quo was frightening, but I was tired of the control it had on my life.  So, like ripping off a band aid from a cut, I brought my open hand to my mouth and blew the feather away. As I watched it float away, all the stress was carried away with it.  Now my hand is open and ready to accept the peace and joy that my God can give.



  1. I am so sorry for that sweetheart. Maybe it’s time to make public how you ended up being adopted.

    My name is Evelyn and I am Morgan’s birth mom. I was married to her father from 1992 until recently when I filed for divorce (which is still not final). Her father had all the outwardly appearances of a Christian man. He was handsome, shy and like no one else I had ever met. We lived next to his parents for the first decade of our marriage (big mistake). They tried to rule and control us and we fought ferociously. We even fought when I was pregnant even though I was trying to walk away.

    One GOOD thing I can say about that time is HE had enough sense not to fight in front of the kids (except towards the end of the 90’s they witnessed a few fights then).

    I am not going to pen everything here because I have it posted on my blog and a few other places around the net.

    In 2000 he had to go to prison for striking my oldest child from my first marriage. He had 30 days to report there. I KNEW his parents would try to take the kids from me once he went to prison. I also knew I had to get them out of that holler for good.

    Where we went on the trip is inconsequential, with the exception of 2 stops along the way. In the Bienville National Forest in Forest Mississippi, we camped a few days. During that time hubby made a suggestion, one I felt turned the tables for me for good. We were getting frustrated because we could not find a state that said they would not return the kids to their grandparents in Kentucky. At the time I had no income of my own, I was finishing college and KNEW his family would have put me off of their property.

    It was the one singular thing we agreed on. The kids HAD to get out of Kentucky and away from his family, and ultimately HIM. He didn’t want us to suffer while he was locked up, did not want us going on without him. I KNEW he had packed the new rifle I had purchased the Christmas prior. It was now July 2000. What he did not know was that I UNPACKED all of the ammunition and had taken it completely apart.

    As hard as this is to speak out loud or type with tears covering my face, HIS solution was murder suicide. He would “take care of the kids while they slept” then me and then himself. One thing I knew without a doubt is he had no back bone. If he had “taken care of us” he would have simply went running home to mommy and daddy. I stalled him. I HAD to. I HAD to find safety for my children.

    When we made a few day stop in Longview, Texas the subject came up again. Once again stalling. I was terrified he would not stall much longer. The Lord answered my prayers when we broke down in Meadville, Mississippi. The court there agreed that the kids should never be returned to Kentucky. They were placed in a shelter first and then into their adoptive parents home. I BEGGED the judge in tears to please keep them all together, He did this one thing for me.

    Morgan has verified this. Once I came back down to Mississippi to pick up some things that got left behind. I spoke with the sheriff and DONATED that rifle to the department. I told him that someone wanted to use the gun for evil and he could use it for good. After 13 years the sheriff repeated those words to Morgan who had called him at my urging.

    Hubby and I returned to Kentucky without the kids. Needless to say his parents were pissed. He was pissed. It was at this point the violence I had experienced became eventual attempts to kill me. I had also had my tubes tied in 2000. I would bear this man no more children for him to wish upon them what he had planned to do.

    I remained with him although at the time I did not know why. I remained to keep HIM from trying to hunt them down. In the decade we lived without the kids I took jobs and he would cause me to have to quit. He would make it impossible for me to work anywhere, even from home. He would wake me up in the middle of the night to argue!

    I really did not see his true intentions of wanting me dead until 2010 when I found my inhalers where he had hidden them. I have COPD, have had it for many years and my inhalers ARE my life if I want to breathe that is. I found my inhalers under his side of the mattress with only 1 or 2 puffs left in each one. He would begin tossing me around into walls etc and usually ALWAYS end up sitting on my chest. I would BEG him for my inhaler because in panic situations my lungs close. He would LAUGH at me. When he finally would give me one it was empty. Brand new inhalers would be useless to me.

    I never stopped wondering about my kids, never stopped loving them. It was for them I kept going. I HAD to be here when they turned 18. I had to be here because they have questions. They have questions their father would likely not even discuss with them.

    I gave 20 years of my life to a maniac so my children could have a stable life, safe and secure and loved as if it were me loving them. But that didn’t happen for Morgan. As I sit here with tears flowing all I am comforted by is that I am here NOW and together we are both learning to heal.


  2. I am well known for being crude, rude and socially unacceptable at times. This is one of those times. There is an unspoken item from my above post. One that has weighed on my heart since I learned about the home my children were placed into.

    Considering what her father wished to do with that rifle……. I praised God for Morgan’s foster family. I praised God because the kids were alive. I had already buried a couple of niece’s so I KNEW that pain.

    As painful as it might be, I do have her foster parents to thank for that, and God of course. But they are here today because of the foster family.

    I doubt they would be had they been left in our care because there was no way at that time that I could get myself away from their father…


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