This story has been a draft since May 2019 because I have been having a hard time deciding whether or not I should talk about this sensitive area of my life with all of you, mostly because I was feeling guilty and afraid of who I might hurt in the process…
But then I realized, this is my story…
I shouldn’t feel pain from this beautiful story? I should feel proud of where I am and how my history, and the history of others, has shaped me to be the person that I am.
So here I go.
Before I Begin:
The first thing I need to say before I jump in:
What happened in the past doesn’t change anything for you today. If you are reading this, and this is also your story, please know that digging for the reasons “why” shouldn’t make you feel any different, and they don’t matter.
YOU. ARE. HERE.
You are loved.
You can’t change what happened and trying to understand it without fully walking the path that your parents were on, is just not possible. We can’t judge someone else’s choices or actions unless we have been faced with the exact same ones ourselves. It’s impossible to know every detail that went into what lead them to their choice.
Be patient. Extend grace and have mercy on your loved ones.
I guarantee you it wasn’t an easy choice.
“Why was it a secret and how did you find out?”
Like I said before, the reasons “why” don’t matter much to me, and they aren’t really my story to tell.
But to keep it simple, My mom was married. and I KNOW that she had to make one of the toughest decisions of her life. Period.
But to answer the question “How I found out?” Well… LOL.
My older brother, Larry, was also one of the last people to know. I think most people in my family and friend circle knew, but he probably was never told because he would be the one to tell me. And he did!
As you may know, I was raised with my mom and dad of course, as well as two sisters and my brother. I’d say I was a bit closer with my brother than my sisters. My brother and I lived together after I graduated high school and have always stayed in touch throughout our adult years.
He was working with our dad one day and I guess he just told him out of nowhere! and Larry was like “well, she deserves to know.” But he decided to give my mom the opportunity to tell me first.
A few months pass, and he hadn’t heard anything…
Then one day at work and he said he just felt it on his heart that, right there in that moment, I needed to know.
So he called me in the middle of the day, said “Hey kiddo, I need to talk to you.” I was with a few of my girlfriends and we had all just returned from a 3 month outreach mission trip in Micronesia together. We were in the car, and he says “I need to tell you something right now… Do you trust these people that you are with?”
I said “Of course? Tell me now.”
He proceeded to tell me that our dad wasn’t my biological dad. I don’t really remember what that moment was like from my point of view (I imagine i’ve just blanked it out), but he said I paused and then started crying. But he described it as a cry that wasn’t really pain… but more of a sense of relief.
A cry, that he said, seemed like I finally got the final piece to my broken puzzle.
And thinking back on all of this? Yes. Thats exactly what it was for me. Everything finally made sense. All the questions in my heart finally had an answer. I had a sense of placement and belonging for all the many wonders of my heart!
I was broken, but I finally felt whole.
“What did you do after you found out?”
When Larry called me, I was with my girl friends on a road trip to southern Oregon. We had all just spent the last 6 months at Discipleship Training School so I was with the perfect people to hear news like this…
They supported me, walked with me closely, and kept my eyes turned to Jesus. It was four days of an emotional ride I cannot explain…
But if you’ve been in my shoes, you know…
I spent some time at a worship conference at a local church there, and in the end I found a truth I think everyone here needs to know:
Your Earthly Father is only temporary. Your Heavenly Father is eternal.
From that moment on, I felt that no matter who he was, I was going to be okay. No matter what he was like, or whether he wanted to know me or not, I was going to be okay.
But I couldn’t help the burning desire deep inside me to find out who the man was who gave me my eyes.