Debra Parker
Eighty Three Days
i knew her for three months.
as long as i can remember, back to the days of black paten leather shoes, i thought of her. all the important people in my life know her name, and more, the way she is weaved into my story.
on June 7, 2012, my birth mother, Mary, passed from this life.
i am writing today to tell you pieces of a beautiful story. a story written by God, one with much grace, love.
on my thirty fourth birthday, Mary had received a letter from me. it was sent in a small kraft paper envelope. in it, our first communication, i said all the things i had felt prompted to say. things like thank you, if you have ever felt regret…don’t, i’ve had a good life, i am grateful. these are the things i needed her to know, and yet knew i would never say in person, me who runs from awkward.
a few short days later, i received a letter in return. it was the kindest letter written with great detail and honest love. she had things to say. things like, i’m sorry, i loved you, i never forgot. those things she would never say in person, because maybe she like me runs from awkward. at the end of the letter she wrote a phone number with a request for me to call.
for a few months we exchanged brief phone calls, sometimes texts. our conversations were light and random. the only constant was Mary’s request to meet me and my people.
it was only three months ago when we finally drove in, van full of children, to meet her. some circumstances had her moving out of state within days. she was adamant that we meet before her move. we cleared our calendar and drove the two hours to her city. as we made our way down her street, she stood in the yard wrapped in a pink shirt, hair in a bun. within seconds of parking, awkward hugs were exchanged, and just like that i was standing with the woman who carried and birthed me. we, Mary and i, worked hard not to stare at the other.
at the end of the day we stood in a parking lot saying good bye. i will never forget the way she hugged me. her hug was tight and long, like she had waited all my life to give it. or like a momma holding her baby for the very first time. i couldn’t fully understand it, but felt the need to honor it.
eighty three days after that hug, i stood at her hospital bed, saying good bye once again. she had suffered a severe stroke that only left her alive by machines. a lot of us drove through the night to be with her before she passed.
with Ernest on one side of her bed, and me on the other, i was overcome with thankfulness of knowing Mary. i finally, and awkwardly, said words out loud. i will try to live each day thankful for your gift of my life. i will try to do it in honor of you. thank you, Mary, thank you for loving me.
in case you have ever wondered, God is about love stories. i still can’t get over the sweetness of this grace.
(all of Mary's daughters together)
for years i had thought about Mary, but this particular year, i felt a need to pursue her. it came from a deep place in my bones. a knowing it was time. i would see a vision of releasing her from any hurt giving me away left with her. i felt joy for my story and desperately wanted her to feel the same. still, i always knew these feelings were not from me. they were promptings from a God who loves and redeems.
in fact, when she wrote to me, she said those shame feelings, she never forgot. as a mom, i understood.
in the last months of her life, this chapter of shame was redeemed.
i see it as evidence of God’s wild love for the heart of his beloved, Mary.
and also evidence of his wild love for me.
it is complete grace that i followed through with the stirring in my bones. God loved me through sleepless nights of talking myself out of writing, and then meeting Mary.
it was joy to have known her, and to have been known.
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Debra Parker
Debra Parker was born near the beach in Texas to a birthmom and a couple waiting to adopt her. From the moment of birth, God was teaching her a story of unconditional love. This is a journey that He would continue to pursue throughout her life. As a girl, she could be found wearing black patent leather shoes with frills from head to toe. Today, you will find her wearing faded jeans and a cotton tee as she does life with her four wild but fun kids. She is happy to brave this life alongside her super sanguine husband whom she calls E. You can read her original post here.
Why I Chose to Adopt
Less than 12 months ago, I was a mom of two bio kids.
Today, I have three bio and one adopted.
It did not come easy.
I will not lie and say I did not toss and turn about it.
I prayed and prayed for timing for us and for the child.
I asked God to make me willing.
I asked God to open my heart.
I went to Haiti.
With my own two eyes, “I saw.”
I saw so much beauty, pain, but all came wrapped in need.
My heart was so open, I left wounded.
I wanted to run somewhere and pretend I had not seen such life.
I wanted to forget stories I heard.
I wanted to forget eyes that looked at me with hope.
As much as I wanted to.
I chose to not.
I came home and tossed and turned some more.
A lot more.
I thought of the boy I met.
I thought of what would be best for him.
I thought of the babies I carried.
I thought of the sound of roosters.
I thought of the sound of children laughing.
I thought of the lady I met on a random walk lifting her shirt to show me her hungry belly who next handed me her baby.
I thought of how my heart was just handed to me.
I thought about how weak I am.
I thought about how our life was in a good place.
I thought about how our kids were happy.
I thought about how I was happy.
I thought about all the obstacles.
I thought about how we would never get the money.
I thought our families would not accept it.
I thought adoption would be too hard.
I thought it might tear our family apart.
I thought I might not be a good adoptive mom.
I thought I might not love him like I should.
I thought about it a lot.
Then, one day, Licia posted about the need she had for a family to do some water walking. She needed someone to adopt the little boy we loved, Ronel.
I thought I wanted to be that family.
After so much time thinking, it became so simple.
We have love; we have a house; we are a family; we can be his family.
All of my fears were subsided in that moment.
Yes, we will do it.
Yes.
Yes, we will give this one boy a family.
Yes, we can do that.
I chose to adopt because God opened my heart.
My wish is that every family would choose to adopt.
I know that cannot happen and probably should not (although, i struggle with that).
But, can you imagine if we all did?
singles, newly marrieds, marrieds with young children, married with older children, empty nesters…
We might see a world that would have more love than greed.
We might.
I will not lie and say that adoption has been easy.
Ronel has been home for less than a year.
It has been a hard year.
We have had easy circumstances, and it is still hard.
We have never felt more financial strain.
We have never had fewer date nights.
We have never been more alone.
We have never had to give so much.
BUT…
This is what loving like Jesus is, right?
Sacrifice?
What i have read about him was raw and hard and honest and hard and raw.
He loved so much that he literally died so that i could have life.
All i did was invite this little boy to live in our already life.
Our life was not meant to be easy.
It was not meant to be about us.
That is just what the American Dream tries to sell us.
Actually, life was meant to be shared, to be given.
This crazy hard season is life.
We have never served another more.
This is ministry, the kind you don’t get paid for, the kind that people don’t see.
All of this has been desperately weighing on my heart and sitting on my tongue.
I want to share so much about my feelings toward adoption.
It is just so close to my heart that i keep it guarded.
And, by close, i mean raw.
Tonight, my emotions are raw enough to say this…
The orphans of the world…
They need families to do some water walking.
Is it your turn to step out of the boat?
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Debra Parker
Debra Parker was born near the beach in Texas to a birthmom and a couple waiting to adopt her. From the moment of birth, God was teaching her a story of unconditional love. This is a journey that He would continue to pursue throughout her life. As a girl, she could be found wearing black patent leather shoes with frills from head to toe. Today, you will find her wearing faded jeans and a cotton tee as she does life with her four wild but fun kids. She is happy to brave this life alongside her super sanguine husband whom she calls E. You can read her original post here.
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