No Lightening Bolt For Me

Reading through my daily log of 'blogs' I was presented with a very interesting question. Connie posed the question of "What made you such a tight believer in God?"
That has always been an interesting topic to me and have wondered about myself..... Well, let me just start at the beginning...
I was born and raised into a strong, loving Christian family. My dad went to seminary and was very knowledgeable. We had a wall of books that my dad had read. He always amazed me when I would ask him a question and he would browse quickly through his 'wall', pull out a book, flip to a page and answer my question. He knew the Bible backwards and forwards, he even had a Greek Bible... and he could read it too... Well, I am getting off topic, this post is about me not my dad...
Anyway, being raised with strong Christian principles left me to wonder what my own beliefs were, especially during my teen years. I remember hearing testimonies of people who experienced a black to white, who weren't raised like I was and had a definite moment in life when they met Jesus for the first time. I remember being very quiet at various youth functions, just watching an observing my peers, wondering what brought them here. Were they serious about Jesus? Were they here because their parents made them or because their friends were here? I was basically a good kid, a little ornery, but I knew right from wrong. I remember feeling invaluable because I didn't have a 'testimony'.
During my teen years I wrote a letter to my sister in college. I wasn't going through any major crisis, just regular teenage stuff but I was confused because I didn't feel like my prayers were getting past the ceiling of my bedroom. She told me to just keep praying, just keep praying.

A few years later I found myself pregnant at 19. For the first time it was just me and God. I knew He was the only one that could help me make the decision that lay before me. I still didn't feel like my prayers reached beyond the roof of my house, but God showed up. There was no lightening bolt, no clash of thunder, no supernatural visions...... just peace. Simple peace.
Footprints in the sand had always been my favorite poem, and now I was having my own experience. From the moment I found out I was pregnant I knew it was a girl and I knew I had to go back home (to Indiana) and talk to a certain lady. I wasn't sure if I was going to keep the baby or not, but I knew that I had to meet with her to find my answers... I didn't know her name but I knew she existed, she had something to do with adoptions... This could get lengthy but I will briefly go through the next 8 months

My first week home our church was having a huge conference. In between sessions they were offering prayer for those that wanted it. Mom suggested I go over. I didn't want to because I was embarrassed, I just wanted to hide for the next 8 months. I went anyway. There I was, sitting in this room with the two people that were going to pray for me. They both knew my parents but didn't know I was their daughter, nor did they know of my 'situation'. They prayed for a few minutes and then the guy started telling me about how his wife couldn't have kids and how they adopted their son. I don't remember what he said I just remember looking at his face, in total shock and disbelief.... like something weird just happened but I didn't know what...

Next I told Mom that I wanted to talk to this particular lady. I described who I thought the woman was and Mom contacted her. I was confused in the details of how I knew of the woman and the person Mom contacted was not the person I thought she was in the way that I thought that I knew her.... to straighten out that sentence; there were two different woman and... well, basically through divine intervention, Mom contacted the right lady.

In the mean time I went to the doctor and confirmed that I was, indeed, carrying a little girl. I also checked into social services about getting medical and financial assistance if I did keep my baby. I wanted to be aware of all my options. In this meeting I found out that if I was on government assistance and then decided to give my baby up for adoption, I would have no say over who she went to. That decision would be left to the state... mmmm, I don't think so...

The day came to meet with the 'lady'. Dad, Mom and I drove about 2 hours to her place. Dad was kinda leaning toward me keeping the baby... he was sentimental that way... As Mary (the lady's name) started talking I began to get emotional. I think I had told Mom about the guy telling me about his adoption during prayer but I'm not sure if I told her that I thought they might be the "ones". I am a 'get-to-the-point' kind of person so I interrupted every one's conversation and told Mary about the guy that prayed for me. In a 'what-a-coincidence' kind of way she threw her hands up and said, "Oh! I did their first adoption." My emotions overflowed and I began to weep. She went on to tell us that due to age requirement in the State they lived in, this would be the last year they would be able to adopt. Through a blur of tears I told her, "They are the ones I want to give my baby to" Peace. Simple Peace.

Sometime after we left, Mary contacted the family. She told them about him praying for me. The week of the conference was so busy, with so many people, that he really didn't remember me and certainly had no idea I was pregnant.

Time went on and we had some contact with them through Mary. When I was thinking about keeping the baby I was going to name her Emily Grace or Alicia Grace. I had mom ask Mary if it would be ok if I wrote the couple a letter. She said ok. I don't remember all of what I said in the letter but I do know that I told her I felt that 'Grace' should be part of her name.... because it was by God's grace we came together in this situation... I didn't say anything about Emily or Alicia, just the name Grace. The mother-to-be had always wanted to name her daughter Sharon Rose, but that night the name 'Alicia Grace' kept running through her head. When Mom told me that they were going to name the baby Alicia Grace (except they spelled it Alysha) I said with a shock, "That's what I would have named her!!" Mom and I both cried.

Through out the entire pregnancy there were bits and pieces confirming that I was doing the right thing. The Lord left me with no doubts that I made the right decision.

There were two other significant emotions I experienced with this. The whole time I was pregnant I also carried a hatred for my ex-boyfriend. The second Alysha was born... the absolute instant she was born... my hatred vanished. Poof. Gone.

The second emotion was homesick. I held her in the hospital, cuddled her, fed her, told her I loved her and kissed her goodbye. Due to hospital policy, the adopting family couldn't come in until I left. We had met in person once but they were wanting to get together after we all left the hospital and before they headed for home. I think Mom and Dad were wanting to invite them over but when they asked I said, "No." The last nine months had been an absolute whirly, twirly roller coaster ride of emotions. I was spent. Even though I was confident in my decisions and I knew that God directed my path, giving Alysha away was the hardest thing I have ever done. The next two weeks my heart was empty. I felt lost and alone, and even though I was 'home' I was homesick.

With all the different emotions I experienced there was always a 'peace'. It was a very strange mix. I guess I could describe it like a hurricane. Emotions in a whirlwind, twisting all around.... but in the center, in my core... Peace. Simple Peace.