It’s funny…the way God works. Today I am sitting on the other side of it all, thinking back to a time when I never thought I’d make it here, to this side of things.
Nine years ago, June 29th, 2008, I have no idea what I was doing or where I was at.
I have no idea what I was doing the day my daughter was born.
I like to think the moment her birth mom bravely pushed her into the world and my daughter took her first breath, my heart skipped a beat.
I like to think there was a strangeness about me that day. A stirring in my soul and a shift in the atmosphere I could not ignore but could not quite put my finger on.
But I honestly have no idea what I was doing on the day my daughter was born.
Here’s what I do know: I was longing for her.
We had already started the adoption process and by the time June 29th, 2008 rolled around I had been waiting for months for the phone to ring and for our social worker to tell me she had a baby for me.
But I didn't get the call the day my daughter was born. Who my daughter was on paper was too scary, and I thought would require too much of me, so I said no to things like Down syndrome and congenital heart defects and incurable lung diseases.
I know my daughter was born into a broken space. A room full of broken hearts and broken dreams and when she was placed in the arms of her loving foster family, it severed a relationship between a mother and child…utter brokenness.
I know, the day she was born, I too was broken. My broken heart longing for a child. My broken body unable to fulfill that longing.
I know we had an opportunity to say "no", two months later when we did learn about her. I know this was a moment in my life when God showed me a difficult, terrifying yes is always, always, always better than an easier and often expected "no".
Today we celebrate my daughter’s 9th year of life!
We celebrate risk and patience and a scary "yes" over expected "no".
And you know what is missing today? Nine years later?
Here’s the thing: Our great, big, good, full-of-grace-and-love God is the master mender of brokenness.
Here’s the thing: my broken heart has been mended, three times over friends. And in place of the broken spaces there are scars. I believe my scarred heart is better than if it was free of flaws. My scars have made me braver and kinder and serve as a constant reminder that God’s got this…whatever “this” might be. Because I know there’s brokenness in my future, the world simply works like that, but I also know when my future self will inevitably break and cry and tremble, she will remember my scars and I will be okay. Friends, we’re going to be okay!
My daughter, the one who is turning nine years old today, is a reminder that there is no way I could EVER create a life as good as the one God has for me when I step into His plans. There is absolutely no way I could have known the depths of true love if I had not risked it all for a baby girl with almond eyes, a button nose and a broken heart. There is no amount of will or planning or discipline or control I could have used to be where I am today.
In fact, quite the opposite is required of us when we step into the bigness of God’s plans for our lives. It looks a lot like letting go of our will, plans and control.
I am the woman I am today because of the scars on my heart.
I am the mother I am today because of brokenness redeemed.
And the truly wild part? She’s only nine, which means I think we are just getting started…
Dear Macyn Hope Arpi Avis,
YOU, exactly how you are, are my wildest dream come true. As you enter this ninth year of life, there is nothing I want you to change about yourself. Your life has given me a glimpse of heaven, of God’s heart. As the beat of my heart continues to sync up with the beat of your heart, I more clearly can hear the beat of God’s heart.
Sweet daughter, you continue to be my scariest and best “yes”. Keep on doing you dear girl.
Macyn when she was 2!
Sweet Macyn Hope