The Chosen Life: Revelation and Reality

It is ironic how much a person can anticipate, plan, dream, imagine how a situation can be and how vastly different it turns out to be. I had not given much thought to a reunion of adoptees until I was facing one. What does one say? What do I ask? Are there subjects off-limits for the first meeting etc. etc.? Where should we meet? What should I wear? I had a lot of decisions to make and continued to pray God would guide me into choices that would result in peace and health for all involved.

I learned shortly after being contacted through the courts that I had a half-sister who filed the petition to initiate the search. After signing the release, I received the documents surrounding my birth and adoption. I learned that my birth mother already had two daughters when I was born and was divorced. She did not name the father on the birth certificate in order to protect his reputation as he was a married man and part owner in a family business. He also had two daughters. This would mean I had four half-sisters, all older than me. I learned my birth mom showed up for prenatal exams, sometimes intoxicated, and that I was born on a Sunday at around four in the morning and weighed a little over 5 lbs. I learned I was of Finnish and Greek descent and that I was a first-generation American. 

With communication beginning with correspondence and then to telephone, I agreed to meet Elaine, my half-sister on my birth mom’s side, at a local restaurant. I learned that Elaine was the one who initiated the search after she was told by a maternal aunt close to her death of my existence. She and her older sister Linda grew up without knowing about me. They had been sent to live with grandparents during the pregnancy. However, because my birth parents married five years after my birth and surrender, Petros had been their stepfather and had adopted them both. We agreed to meet at a restaurant, which we both decided was neutral territory. Despite my nerves, it went pretty well, and Elaine filled in a lot of information and brought pictures of my birth parents and other siblings. I learned of 2 much older greek half-sisters named Joanna and Diana. We had the waitress take our photo, and I still look back at those and marvel at how God works things out.

I learned that Elaine had two boys and two girls of her own, and we laughed at the irony of both our daughters being named Erin. Elaine was weepy, and I had been so preoccupied with how I would feel that I did not consider how she would feel. She relayed how much I reminded her of her stepdad, whom she was very fond of. A few weeks later, I met Linda, an adjunct professor at John Hopkins in Cybersecurity, and after that, Joanna, an artist, and teacher. To this day, I have not met Diana, also a teacher and a violinist, though we spoke by phone a few times. All of these women, very successful and accomplished, had painful wounds surrounding my birth.  And just like Bette’s girls, Petros’ daughters had no idea of my existence. Though my birth mother was still living, Petros had been dead for several years, and I sympathized with their grief over the secrets their dad had kept from them. I spent much time praying for them but always gave thanks that though my adoption had presented challenges, I had not experienced betrayal.

At the persistent urging of my folks and after much prayer, I finally agreed to meet Bette, my birth mother. I realized I wanted to release her from any guilt she might have and assure her she had made the right choice. Upon our meeting, she was, of course, very emotional. My heart was divided with sympathy for this small, frail elderly woman who was overjoyed at how much I resembled her beloved Petros. The longing I had for the undisturbed life I had lived prior to the knowledge of this lost tribe. She said she was so thrilled that I had returned to the family and couldn’t wait to show me off to the rest of our family.

Prayerfully I shared the tender truth that the child she had surrendered no longer held that identity but had been given another one. She struggled with the painful reality of her chosen life: her choices and the choices God had made on my behalf. I remain thankful for our meetings but also so grateful for how God kept me anchored in such an emotional storm. I learned she was not a person of any real faith, and so she struggled many times with my providential perspective. My birth mother shared I was still her child, and nothing would change that. I hugged her and thanked her for the gift of life but knew deep in my heart; everything had changed.

Years later, at the encouragement of my children, I did an ancestry DNA test, and the summary came back that I was 51 % Finnish and 46 % Greek and Balkan. Descendants and relatives in Greece and Finland came up as DNA matches. With the confirmation of paternity, my kids and I laughed that flag day had finally come! We were able to obtain genealogical histories going back to the 1600s in Finland and the 1400’s in Greece.

As a result, I now have been blessed with a few cousins that God has brought near to me, and we laugh and say it is all joy because we do not have the baggage of history! I am incredibly thankful for what I like to call Jenny Squared. Jenny A and Jenny M, my greek cousins in Australia who have opened their lives, their histories, photos, and fun and embraced us. There is Tom, who is the closest living relative I have outside of the sisters. We have met up and have shared our faith and friendship – such a gift! Then there is Kathy, who is unique because we are related to each other on both sides; like me, she is half Finnish and half greek. An absolute delight to my soul! Though I feel I could be in the early autumn of life(who knows?), I am thankful for the changing of the color of my”life tree leaves” in this season. My identity did not change. The revelations of my history brought color and contrast to a few black and white areas. These folks God brought to us are a miracle of His providential power and blessing! 

I want to say all the sisters lived happily ever after, but the reality is I learned reunion was probably harder on them than me. We wrote letters and cards, met up a few times but eventually, the newness settled down, and now working at a relationship was going to be more effort than folks realized. Revelation and reality met up, and it would be shortly after our reunion that God would move Jim and myself to South Carolina. When I left Detroit, I knew in my spirit I was moving on in many ways. Though I knew I was chosen, I definitely was changed. Some Days I was thankful, and some days I wasn’t.

I get asked all the time, which do I believe is stronger, nature or nurture? Honestly, I compare it to cooking. Ingredients matter but equally, how the ingredients are prepared makes for success. Things like talent, looks, temperaments are certainly influenced by genetics, but then my work and ways reflect so much of my parents’ influence and contribution. This I believe, God has great recipes, and He is the chef.

Today as I finish this, I look back and give thanks to Bette and Petros, who gave me physical life. I give thanks for my four half-sisters and pray for them that they will make peace for all that has transpired. I thank God for bringing Edison and Beulah( dad and mom), to set me on a course of love and security built on a foundation of faith in God the Father, Creator of the Universe who ordains my purpose and numbers my days.

God has used these experiences to help me share with others, even fellow adoptees, about how a sense of identity in Christ can help you face a reunion with a lost past and history… I have urged single moms to choose life over abortion. But mostly, I have asked God to help me use this journey to share how Grace, forgiveness, and hope brings us all healing and glory to God and that we all can choose Christ and the abundant life he offers.

Dear God, Help me to continue to live out the legacy of the Chosen life. Please help me be light in dark places, help me serve as a Holy priest, let me be an example as a member of a holy nation. Remind me; you called me so that I might declare your praises for all you are and for all you have done from the very beginning of my existence. Amen.

Come back to the vineyard where the 5 o’clock worker will set out on the Pursuit of Passion as we move into the 40-day focus  before Easter.