So, today this blog entry came up on my memories, I wrote this three years ago.
It may seem a strange thing to say your own writing moved you to tears, but in this case it is the simple truth. Of course I was carried on the wings of memories to precious moments from the past. A small portion of Jesse’s adoption story is included. It’s such a beautiful example of how God has formed our family so lovingly together.
I’ve recently spoken to a literary agent about the possibility of writing about our adoption stories. I’ve hesitated to do so because, well, they are so personal. Reading this blog myself today afresh and anew has given me the courage to try.
They are such stories or love conquering the very things that want to tear us apart and using the very glue of adversity to bind us together.
Having been born in the Deep South I have a heritage steeped in both immense pride and terrible shame. I was born in Louisiana, lived in Texas and Georgia, graduated high school in Mississippi. I have close family in Arkansas and am raising a family in Alabama – I get it, I truly do. I get what our unique culture offers, good and bad. I have experienced it.
My friend and pastor often says that a man with an experience is never at the mercy of a man with an argument. This is so true. I have experienced a unique and sometimes dangerously different way of life that can’t be argued away. It doesn’t matter one bit if you refuse to agree or refuse to see, my experience will not yield to your arguments.
Twenty years ago I would have just turned thirty and have been feeling quite grown up…
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