Doni Hall's Adoptee Story, A Miracle From God

   Of course I don't remember, I was a baby! But I was told numerous times, I was adopted. That story of the stork carrying me to my mother and father was a part of my upbringing. I even have an oil painting of it made by a friend of my mothers'... a  purple stork carrying a baby through the air, but the hair of the baby was left undone until I arrived. As soon as that dear friend of my mother's heard, she painted the baby's hair dark brown.

The story I was told is that their phone rang and announced that my new mother and father could come pick me up, that I had arrived and was ready! Well, they couldn't move fast enough. After they arrived home with me, my father went next door and knocked on the neighbor's door. "Come and see what we have!"."Naw, it's probably just a puppy" the crotchety neighbor said.

"Just come see!" my father replied. So the older neighbors went to see.

Stories like that were fascinating to me...I couldn't hear enough! As a small child I remember always asking to hear more. I had always been told I was adopted, so the word was always a part of me.

Eight months after my birth, my mother and father had a baby themselves...my sister was only 8 months younger than me. We were so close in age people thought we were twins. When asked, my mother would smile and say, "no, one is adopted". Well, they would smile and pat my sister on her blond head, and walk away. Remember, I'm dark headed and looked very much like my mother and father!

I can remember when the realization of the term 'adopted' truly registered in my young mind. I had a DIFFERENT mother and father than those who were raising me. More questions came to my mind. Who was my mother? Who was my father? Could 'so-and-so' be my real mother? What about ____? No, they were not my real mother....or my Birth mother as I learned to refer to her.The mystery of my life had begun, and it wasn't to end any time soon.
And it kept me in its grip.

I have to say that my story is a miracle.

So many things over the years occurred where I see God's hand...where He kept me and where He blessed me.

1964 was a year that started out cold and snowy where I was born. The day I was born it snowed.
It was also a year that was during the time where an unwed mother was a serious social no-no.

My younger years were full of playtime with my sister, and later a brother. Our home was a typical house in a neighborhood and my schooling was normal. But my mind and my heart thought countless times of an unknown girl who was my mother. I was told her age was 18 and that my birth father was a year older. I only knew that she couldn't keep me. Still, I wanted to know more.

The questions multiplied as I grew older. Whenever I heard the word adoption, I was all ears. In 7th grade I did my research paper on Adoption and found out that there were different types of adoption...Private as well as Open, etc.
More questions....mine was a private adoption through an agency in our large city.
I figured that I'd never be able to find my 'real' parents until I was older and could do so myself. 

My first year of High School brought about a number of changes. One was my hearing the Gospel!
God, before the earth was made, chose me to be one of His ADOPTED children! I'd never seen that in the Bible before, but there it was.
I saw that those He loved and chose before the foundation of the world, He gave to Christ.
"For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God."
Romans 8:14-16.

   I graduated from High School in 1982, went to college and got a degree in 1986, immediately got married and the next year had my first son. Out on my own, I still sought to find answers to my questions. Would I EVER find my birth mother???
By the time I had my second son, the questions were overwhelming me. Here I was with two wonderful sons... and I wanted to know if they looked like me, did they look like my birth mother or birth father??
In fact, who did I look like myself?? Would I ever know?

In 1993 I had been reading in my Bible about those long passages of names...lineages..and how important the lineage of Jesus was to the Chosen people of Israel...and US. I couldn't help but pray about it and asked God to let me know my heritage. In 1993 I had been reading in my Bible about those long passages of names...lineages..and how important the lineage of Jesus was to the Chosen people of Israel...and US. I couldn't help but pray about it and asked God to let me know my heritage.
Finally in June, I had come to a point where I asked God to take the overwhelming desire to know my birth parents away from me and to not let me think and obsess about it again unless it was time.
HE DID.  For six months.

In January of 1994 my sons and I had gone away for the holidays.
Here's the miracle:
I had gone to another part of the house to be by myself when out of the blue, those thoughts hit me again...for the first time in months. Immediately I prayed and said, "God, I asked You to take these thoughts and feelings away from me until it was time..." As I turned around, a voice as clear as could be spoke to me in my right ear, "IT'S TIME"!! His voice and words brought me joy and tears. Could it really be? No more question about it now...IT WAS TIME!!!!

I looked up the phone number for the adoption agency. It was the weekend and a holiday, so I had to wait to call. It was the longest weekend of my life.

I drove back to my own home on Monday, waited until the holiday was over, and then placed a phone call to the agency about 9 or so in the morning. A lady answered the phone. Coming up with words at this point was hard. I told her my name and asked her if I could find out any kind of information at all, or even send some info just in case someone ever called looking for me.

She was so sweet. She told me that all she could do was look and see if my file contained a 'contact', basically if anyone had called within the past year looking. She would look and let me know. IF no one had made contact in the past year, she would have to look on their micro-film files and get back to me later. So I was put on hold on the phone while she went to look up my file.

You know when you are hoping, expecting something big, and you try to talk yourself out of it?? I was trying to think of the next question I would have when she told me that there had been no contact...I was still on hold thinking and trying not to be emotional when she came back on the phone.

The next words she spoke changed my life. 

"Doni, are you sitting down?" "yes I replied" shaking all over......

"Your Birth mother called here three weeks ago and I was the one who spoke with her!"
I asked her, "Please, please, can you call her and let her know I've made contact too?? I want to meet her if she wants to meet me too....what do I do next???"

I couldn't believe it! Praise you Lord! You did it!

Over the next week she did call her back and my birth mother wanted to meet me too. We each had to fax signed forms to the agency and each met with a counselor. A week of JOY... The counselors set up our meeting each other..first over the phone with my birth mother calling me at a certain time.
Oh what precious hours we had talking over the phone and getting to know each other. I'll never forget it....all the questions I'd wondered about were answered.

And then we met in person. My birth mother Connie Kay drove to where I lived and arrived in the afternoon...
I remember peeking out the front door window at this pretty lady walking up to my door. Was that REALLY my very own mother????

I opened the door and we just hugged tight...for a long time....and we cried and cried. Oh what bliss to be held by my very own mother for the first time, and loved instantly just because mothers love their children. You know what...she had not been told that I was a girl when I was born, they just took me away. But she had a feeling that I was a girl all that time. I was 30 years old that special January. 

I have her voice...in fact I sound just like her! I look just like her too. It was a picture she brought with her of herself at 18 that cemented it for me. I looked at the picture of her and KNEW...because I looked just like her at that age! No doubt about it.

She and I were very close for the rest of her life. There were numerous times I would pick up the phone to call her and it would ring in my hand...it was her!
Sometimes we'd just talk for hours, sometimes for just a few minutes, but it seemed like we always had to cry (we were both instantly teary when we discussed the miracle). And even though we didn't visit in person a lot, I'd have to say that we were very close. She would call me on my birthday and sing "Happy Birthday" to me in tears... and it was so special to me. She got to see my sons, her grandsons grow up.

We shared so many of the same interests.  Sewing, embroidery, crochet, etc.  Her lovely stitchworks are some of my most prized possessions.  We loved the same televisions shows and had to catch up on so many things.  She told me stories of her youth and she told me about my birth father.  I never got to meet him as he had passed away before we found each other, but someday I will see him.

This precious gift of KNOWING has made my life full and complete.  I tell people it's like I was raised on the second floor of a house that had locked doors.  I could only know the people on the second floor, not those on the first.  But I knew people I belonged to were on that first floor.  No glimpses of them were allowed and no information was given.  But when God unlocked the doors, He gave me the freedom to know, to have the answers to my questions, and the love of my mother.
I will always be grateful to my adoptive parents for raising me, taking care of me, and for the sacrifices they gave.  God placed me with them for a purpose and that purpose was fulfilled.  My love for them was never diminished just because I found my birth mother and had a relationship with her.  It's like when you have more than one child...your heart just opens up and loves more and more as each is added.  You don't loose love for the first one just because you had a second... 

The care I was shown while being raised was obvious to my birth mother as well as my birth father's families.  Each side have asked me to tell my parents that they were so thankful to them for raising me when they couldn't.  

Looking back now, at age 48, I wouldn't change a thing.  I was given a gift and I wouldn't so anything to make things different.  My birth mother was grieving over loosing me, and I was grieving not knowing her.  God healed us both with this precious gift.

My sweet birth mother passed away two years ago of cancer. I was with her for the last two weeks, staying by her side the whole time. She passed away looking at me and I will always cherish that fact. She also believed in Jesus Christ for her salvation, and that is my comfort.

"But thou art He that took me out of the womb; thou didst make me hope when I was upon my mother's breasts.
I was cast upon thee from the womb; thou art my God from my mother's belly" Psalm 22:9-10

"How great are your works O Lord, how profound your thoughts!" Psalm 92:5

"I will sing unto the Lord because He hath dealt bountifully with me." Psalm 13:6

I may not be famous, and I may not ever do anything to solve the problems in this world, but there are a few things I do know:
* Jesus really does save us from our sin which is the whole reason He died on the cross, and the faith to believe that is a gift from God. No one can change that nor earn their way to Heaven with the things they do.
* God is still doing miracles, and God bringing my birth mother into my life is one of them. Not a soul on this earth can change that or turn it into something wrong or bad however hard they might try.

My prayer is that you will be blessed by my story.  If you have any questions you may contact me via my email address (located on my profile on the right sidebar) and I will get back to you as I'm able.

Doni    

http://www.faithgracecrafts@blogspot.com 

Here is Doni's bio from her lovely website filled with the beauty and elegance of her creative gifts and faith. All craft photos and images are the creations of Doni Hall- see permissions at the end of this article.

 "I am a very happily married crafter who has my hand into a little bit of everything! I am a Pastor's wife, Miniature Dachshund breeder, Scrapbooker, card maker, tatter, crochet lover, and the list goes on! I love antiques, books, children, and music...I even play the violin! So many aspects of my life, but one solid foundation for them all, my Saviour Jesus Christ, the Lord. One thing I would like for all people reading my blog to know...that FAITH IS A GIFT FROM GOD! It's not something we muster up in ourselves. Think about it! It could change your eternity!

2014 Copyright- This article may not be reprinted in part or in full without permission from the editor of this blog and the adoptee whose story is posted. Contact jodymoreen (at sign )gmail.com.

** Doni's craft photos above may be used online only if linked back to Doni's website :http://www.faithgracecrafts@blogspot.com

DANA'S STORY: A Birth Mother's Gift Of Life Prompt's Adoptee's Life-Giving Passion To Save The Unborn

I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU AS ORPHANS   JOHN 14:18

   My adoption story begins before I was born, with a young woman pregnant, afraid, and alone.  Being born just two days before Christmas, I’ve often imagined what it must have been like for her- hearing Christmas music at every turn, with lights, trees, and festive attitudes permeating the atmosphere, and realizing she was a young woman about to lose her baby, a child she’d never see grow up. 
   When I was just about 6 months old, a social worker, who did home visits on my parents until the adoption would become finalized, observed that I was much too quiet, that my eyes were larger than normal, and that something wasn’t quite right. She referred me to a pediatric specialist who agreed and concluded that I had encephalitis and might need to be institutionalized for the rest of my life. Before the doctor did the final brain scan, he informed my parents that there was still time before the adoption was finalized to turn me over to the state, relinquishing all responsibilities of care for this “sick infant.” 

   My dad told him that there was nothing wrong with me, and that I was their daughter. They trusted God to heal me, and when the doctor did the final EEG scan, it was perfectly normal. Not only did I grow up healthy, but learned to read at the age of three, went on to get a Master’s Degree, and did everything the doctors said I’d never do.
   At first, being adopted was no big deal. It was who I was and I didn’t know any difference.  By the time I was three years old, I understood that I grew in “another mommy’s tummy,” but that my mom and dad loved me very much and were blessed that I was their daughter.  I remember sitting on the stairs watching my mom dust the dining room when I was five years old, and just blurted out the question as to why I grew in another mommy’s tummy, and not in hers.  Without hesitation, almost as if my mother had expected this question, I was told that my birth mother couldn’t keep me, but loved me enough to give me a mom and dad who could raise me the way she wanted me to be raised.  We might as well have been talking about the weather, and I thought no more about the subject.

I transferred to a Catholic school in the third grade, the year we were introduced to basic genetics in science.  My teacher gave us the homework assignment to interview our parents about where we inherited certain genetic traits, such as hair and eye color.  I immediately felt like a small, trapped animal with no escape.  I didn’t do the homework as I was too afraid to ask my parents what to do. The next day I straightforwardly told my teacher I didn’t do my homework because I had no answers since I was adopted.  Immediately the entire class burst out laughing. I got into trouble for “creating a disturbance” and was sent out into the hall. From that day forward, for the next four years, I was called reject, loser, told I was too stupid and ugly for my “real” mother to want me, and physically hit by bullies with textbooks on the bus every day.  The way I kept the pain from getting to me was allowing songs we sang in church to run through my head.  It was in those moments I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit so strong that I didn’t notice the pain. 
   At the age of 12, it dawned on me that somewhere in the world was a woman who gave birth to me, a real human being, and that she didn’t know what had become of me.  I felt such compassion for her even then, that I prayed to God that one day I’d find her, and thank her for my life.  She could have had an abortion, but she thought I was worth the pain to give me a life that has been filled with God’s blessings. 

When I began teaching as a career, I used an AOL online adoption site to try to find my birthmother, even know I had no information about her at all.  I did meet birthmothers online who were hurting, and I did my best to bring them comfort and witness to them in the love of God.  Not only did this site lead me to my birthfamily, but anonymous online users donated the money so I could make contact with them. Sadly, my birthmother had died trying to find me four years before I’d found her. She had cancer, but she also had two other daughters, my sisters, and several sisters of her own who I’ve gotten to know and were so happy I’d found them.
I used frequent flyer miles to fly all over the country to minister to the birthmothers responsible for financing my search, and one even came to the Lord when I visited her.  Through my devastation at not finding my birth mother alive, I was able to reach others in her honor, and that helped in the healing process.  Just when I thought I was through the healing process, I discovered that I had been conceived in rape, and no one knew who my birth father was.  Instantly I felt like I was dirty and should have never been born, to the extent that I sat on some rocks overlooking Lake Michigan in Chicago, and thought about jumping into the freezing water and ending the pain. But once again, I felt God with me, and this time He told me to go to England and that He’d meet me there.  I had no idea why He’d say that, when I’d only been to England once before just to visit. But through faith and obedience, I went to England with about $40.00 to my name, got a job, and joined a church where I shared my story for the first time in front of people at a healing service. It was at that church that my assent into women’s ministry had begun. I gave several talks to encourage others and it dawned on me that my life had a special purpose. I knew that God would use everything I’d been through for the good of helping others. That church ultimately led me to the one I’m a part of now.  With much prayer and hard work, I have gotten through to the other side, the healing side, where I feel peace about where I came from, and what my purpose in life is now. I’m in the process of answering my call to ministry, and seeking out those who are hurting in any way, to share God’s love, compassion, and mercy with everyone. 

Because of the gift of life my birth mother gave me all those years ago, I now head the Sanctity of Life ministry at my church. I go to Memphis once a month to counsel women in front of an abortion clinic to choose life over death.  Lives have been saved doing this, and every time I’m out there I see the heart of my dear birth mother and what she went through. That motivates me to keep going, but I've faced some challenges too.  I’ve had the police called on me, have been sworn at, almost hit by a car when a woman coming to have an abortion drove up on the sidewalk and tried to hit us, and have been forced to stand in a pile of garbage near a dumpster and minister from there.  It’s not pretty for sure, but with every baby saved and every mother’s soul touched, it’s worth it all.  Life is a blessing, and I’m so grateful to be a part of it!

( Rain or Shine- Speaking for Life ) Dana's peace-filled presence at abortion centers

allows her to share weekly the beautiful news of LIFE and God's redemptive plan for girls to raise their babies with support and resources or choose the other life-giving beautiful option of adoption )
Dana is a Special Ed teacher in Mississippi.  To contact Dana send her an e-mail at: rejoician72 (at) yahoo.com   When e-mailing her use the @ sign to replace (at )

**Dana welcomes your prayers, encouragement cards, donations of new or like-new women's bibles or new testaments or monetary donations to offset the costs of her Sanctity of Life Ministry through her Christian church. Contact her at the above e-mail for more information and how to send donations.
( Copyright 2014. Permission is needed to reprint this article in its entirety or excerpts- contact Jody Moreen  at  jodymoreen (at )gmail .com.  Use @ sign to replace (at )  )