Becoming His Own
I don’t remember the day or the hour,
but I do recall the elusive power,
Of knowing that out there, somewhere unknown
Was the woman, the mother in whose womb I’d grown.
I thought about her day and night,
And prayed and prayed that I just might,
Get to meet her face to face,
And give her a long-awaited sweet embrace.
Out in public, I’d look all around,
Wondering if she could be found,
I searched for a familiar face here and there,
Paying close attention to those with red hair.
While I waited, there were lots of questions…
“Do we look alike or have the same expressions?”
“Does she have the same curiosity?”
Or most of all, “Does she even love me?”
I knew I must keep those questions to myself,
And my feelings of rejection belonged on the shelf.
Because society said, “You were special and chosen,
So keep your mouth shut and your feelings frozen.”
I was grateful to the parents who loved and raised me,
But it wasn’t about them… it was about my desperate plea.
My longing to find the many unknowns
So I could stop guessing and feeling alone.
For years, I begged God, searching to no avail,
knowing deep down that my prayers would prevail,
So after much research and letters and calls,
I finally found the searcher who would end it all.
I sent off to get my birth information,
And when it arrived, I studied the narration.
“Baby Girl Crittenton” stung at my core,
A nameless baby with her mother no more.
On the last page was just what I needed,
The signature of the one who bravely conceded.
I can only imagine what she went through,
As she lived out her secret that just a few knew.
My searcher then found the man she had married,
I called him, trying to hide the secret she’d carried.
When I asked where she was, I was shocked at his answer,
For sadly three years prior, she had died of cancer.
So I told him the truth about how she was my mother,
But he denied it and said it must be some other,
Because the Carol he knew loved her children too deeply,
That to give one away would not have been easy.
I said what I had been taught, that I was just blessed,
That she loved me so much and wanted the best,
But deep down, I heard, “Your mother loved her children…BUT
I’m so sorry to say that YOU did not make the cut.”
I buried that grief for years and years,
Not even knowing that there were tears,
But with some wise counsel, I have learned to grieve,
The one who gave me life, the one I had to leave.
I know that the Enemy has whispered lies in my ear,
About how I’m not wanted, about how I should fear,
Rejection from those who are closest to me,
But I’m here to tell you that God’s setting me free.
He whispers truth to my spirit, telling me I’m wanted,
That I should reject those lies that have keep me haunted,
He tells me that I am chosen, loved, and completely known,
And that HE was the first to call me His own.
Alissa M 2-7-14
"Alissa lives in North Carolina with her husband and two kids. After teaching deaf preschoolers for fifteen years, God called her to homeschool her children, so she has been dedicated to educating them for the past seven years. In her free time, Alissa enjoys serving others, hanging out with friends, playing pool, and doing nail art. Her deepest desire is to continue to grow closer and closer to her Heavenly Father and to become the woman He created her to be."
( Alissa M was awarded a $200.00 cash award for her 1st place entry. Congratulations! )
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