A Different Kind of Blessing

I had a hysterectomy. When I was 27. Twenty-seven. No big deal. I could never see myself changing diapers, wiping snotty noses…or helping with homework anyway. Besides, it wasn’t a choice. 

I had lived with so much pain up to that point, physical pain and mental instability…that I didn’t care about the emotional pain that would surface much later in life. Don, being Don, assured me that he married me, not for the kids I could have with him, but for me. He has never once complained, brought it up in an argument, or used it to hurt me. Never, ever. 

All was well; the hysterectomy served it’s purpose and I had a life again. Happily, Don and I served as youth pastors until our mid 30’s. Working with teens was a good fit. We were portable, not tied down. 

Then we considered adoption. Newborn? Infant? Toddler? Teen? We went through the lengthy and expensive process. Taking classes all along the east coast. At the end of it, we had adoptable siblings move into our home, only to find out their needs were greater than what we could provide. We were in over our head. I was a mess when we had to tell the adoption agency that we had a change of heart.

But with time, healing comes. We’ve never regretted not adopting, never regretted not having children. 

That was about the time I “heard” the Lord saying,

“You are the mother to none, yet to many.”  

photo by ktt

Our lives were full and we had stability. Feeling like we needed a challenge, we accepted roles with Adventures in Missions in our mid 30’s and raised 100% of the support we required. Don would provide leadership to a high school program called Ambassadors. Once again, we found ourselves working with teens. Yes, this felt right. We had a gift…we could still connect to students and to youth pastors, but also combine our heart and love for missions.

Now in our mid 40’s, (gulp) – we look around, trying to figure out how we got here…where did time go? Our friends range in age from their early 20’s to late 60’s. Many are single, some married…and most of them have kids, some even have grandchildren!  Sometimes, if I’m honest, I get a twinge of jealousy. 

On the other hand, we’ve been to over 40 countries leading teams, sharing adventures, meeting amazing people, and experiencing beautiful cultures. I lived in 3 different countries before the age of 19. Together, Don and I have lived in 4 states. We stay up late and sometimes sleep in. We sit on our white sofa and read or watch tv uninterrupted…and if the need arises, with passport in hand and a bag packed, we can be on a plane as quickly as Atlanta traffic allows. It’s a gift…like having children, but different. Very different. Very, very different.

We are not loved by God any less, nor are we cursed. Our parents did nothing wrong, nor did we. We believe it’s for the sake of Kingdom that we do not have children. We were chosen for this.

Some 17 years ago, as I was recovering in a hospital from my hysterectomy…a nurse came in with a rose. “Happy Mother’s Day!” she said. I took the rose knowing she had no clue what I had just gone through. She didn’t know I could never have a baby to raise. I would never chase my toddler around a room so I could blow their snotty nose. I would never sit at a kitchen table with them and pretend I knew something about their math homework. She also had no clue the impact I would have on the lives of thousands of kids, nor did I.

It’s ok. Still no regrets. But I do wonder…who would our kid(s) be like… short? tall? blonde? Would they have Don’s light blue eyes, his family’s dimples? How old would they be now? 20? 21? Would we be good parents? Yes, yes – good parents, fun parents…who have the best taste in music. 80’s music. 

So there have been moments in the last 5 years where I sit and think about these things…and it makes me sad. I trust that God has a plan for us and we are walking in it, but it’s still difficult. Having community at this stage can be difficult. We do our best to open our door to everyone. But then, when it’s late at night, dark and quiet…I wonder, what will happen to Don and I as we age? Who will be there for us? Who will listen to us reminisce about the good old days? Who will make sure we take our pills? Who will carry out our last wishes?

So just recently, some 17 years after my procedure, I’m experiencing what I did not expect. The empty nest, more unknown and the… “what if’s”. 

I trust, really, I do. But it’s hard, and I don’t know how. So I ask, “how?”

…and a still, small voice responds with ”day by day”

Some trust in horse and chariots, but I, I trust in the Lord my God. Ps 20:7