I don’t know a time when my Lady and I had felt so heartsick, so desperate that this wasn’t
really happening, and so betrayed.
For the first six years of our marriage we had no children. It’s wasn’t for not trying or not wanting especially Cathy, but it seemed like we’d never have our own family. We both saw medical professionals in hopes of finding out the problem and correcting it, but we both checked out perfectly. It began to weigh on us that perhaps God didn’t want us to have children, or possibly biological ones. So in our fourth year we began to explore adoption and every agency we could find that dealt in the process. For a time that proved to fruitless also, as many organizations were flooded with requests for children and the waiting list, if you even got on it, was years long. We finally came across a very large church (this was in the days before they were called mega-churches) who took our application and set up an appointment right away. During the interview we were asked many questions and then assigned a case worker to come to our home for an inspection and more interviews. The gentleman we met with that day let us know we’d be under a microscope for the next three months and if they chose not to place a child with us they would let us know early in the process.
We were a bit nervous on the first visit from the man assigned our case, but it seemed to go well. He asked questions on our growing up years and the families we came from, then our marriage, friends, occupations, education, church affiliation. He also asked about our outlooks on life and our relationship to God; all questions we answered honestly and what we felt positively. During five different visits, we were barraged with these and many more questions, and our responses were more at ease and we could tell the caseworker was feeling comfortable spending time with us. After the fifth he told us he’d be back in two weeks for the final meeting. Our hearts nearly jumped out of our chests. Others had told us if you get it to the last interview you’ve made it; we were going to have a baby!!
His words on that day still ring in my ears, and the feeling that came over us was terribly numbing beyond description. “I’m sorry, but your spiritual life is not where we feel comfortable in placing one of our babies with you; I wish you well.”
Darkness flooded us like a tidal wave that we were sure to drown in. It was difficult to comfort Cathy when I felt none myself. “God, I don’t understand! Why would you let this happen?! Are we truly not good enough to be trusted with children?!!”
Healing was long in coming, but it did. For me, whether the assessment was fair or not it made look hard at my spiritual life, my commitment to the one I called Lord. Had I turned everything over to Him? Truthfully the answer was no. One of my passages from that moment, and still today is “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” I didn’t understand what happened but I knew I had to trust in God no matter what the outcome, even it meant being childless. A saying I heard goes like this; “Those to learn to leave everything in God’s hand will eventually see God’s hand in everything.” So, I learned to give it over to my Lord, and I felt peace.
For my Lady, it was more about waiting on God’s timetable and not her own. Psalm 37:7a “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.” Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” And this is her verse for this 2017. Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know, I am God.” It was hard for Cathy, like me, and the peace was slow in coming. But the peace came; this is, until two years later when she woke up with an unusual “Morning Sickness!!” Six years into our marriage Jamie Melissa was born, 20 months later Jeremy David, and 20 months after that Justin Michael. Since those days with the additions of the kid’s spouses and grandchildren these two “Travelers of the Rock Road” who grew up as only children now have a family totalling 15.
To date there’s still that lingering question of the problem the adoption people had with us. I have my own ideas but there not worth going into. All I can say is perhaps God had to use them to wake us up to trusting and waiting completely on His will and timing?
Maybe, just maybe, He’s waiting on the same from you. Just a thought.
See ya next time.
was on the lower east side of town near the river. It was a diverse group of people that lived there–black, white, Latin and a spattering of Germans that had immigrated to the U.S. There were a good many, that like us, had moved there from Appalachia in search of work. What I liked about it was there were lots of kids to play with whenever I ventured out into the neighborhood. My great-uncle and his temper were a deterrent to having friends over so I would head over to someone else’s house as often as possible. I particularly liked homes that had lots of kids; it was almost fascinating to see how a large group functioned in a small home with little if any chaos. So with that many youngsters around it was easy to get together a game of tag, baseball, football, snowball fights or whatever. Quite often yelling or fist fights would break out because someone didn’t play fair and the game would be over; but the next day, without adult intervention, professional counseling or a 12 step program, we’d all be back playing again. Looking back I can see it as one of the few places I felt comfortable–safe I suppose would be a better word. At school I got picked on a lot, but someone didn’t dare come into the neighborhood to start trouble with one of us; you might have a group from 4 to 14 jumping on your back! Yeah, it was a great place to be a kid; you could go down a block to the river to fish, get a baseball game up at this old field across from a trailer park, and in the summer there was a little park that everyone congregated at next to the old East-Side Fire Station. I think we felt we had it all when we were young, carefree and together. It helped shield us of the stigma that others had; that the lower east side was one of the poor sections of town.
Good gracious, was I ever really that young and that skinny! But I remember well the moment mom took this photo; I was being allowed to talk to my Uncle Clyde who lived in Baltimore MD. In this communication age that we now live in, receiving a call anywhere in the country or even the world is not that uncommon, and for some an everyday occurrence. But back in the late 50s, early 60s a long distance phone call was made or received only on special occasions like birthdays, holidays or if someone had to be urgently reached; it was a luxury my small family just couldn’t afford to do often. So when the phone rang I would hurry to get to it first and see if it was someone special from out state. Just to hear a familiar voice of an extended family member would send my spirits soaring. Just think, there were people who lived far away that knew and cared for me, and I was talking to them in the dining room of our house. Awesome!

