The following is a guest post from one of our subscribers.
I had a part-time job at a nursing home. It was not a place I expected evil to grab me, but it did. One of the male employees raped me. Later, adding to that trauma, I found out I was pregnant. My future plans came crashing down as I faced the need to make a decision with far-reaching consequences. Because I knew God values each and every life, I did not consider abortion, even for a moment.
My family surrounded me with love and support. Although it was very difficult, I decided to choose adoption for my child so that they would have a stable home with two parents.
I’d spent my previous two summers as a live-in nanny for three lively children. They were delighted to have me back and I was glad to be busy and mostly out of the public eye during my pregnancy. Meanwhile, my parents contacted a Christian couple—friends in another state who weren’t able to have children. Millie and Dan were excited to have this opportunity to become a family. When I went into labor, the adoptive parents drove all night to be at the hospital soon after my baby was born.
I knew that his new parents would be the ones to name him, but he looked like a Jonathan Asher to me. He was precious and I spent time cuddling him. I never knew how quickly God could fill a new mother’s heart with love. The next day, the thought of giving him away forever brought a flood of tears. My parents, by reading Scripture and praying with me, gave me the courage to face the decision I had already made.
When Millie and Dan came, they bonded with their little boy. Instead of using the name they’d chosen, they agreed with me that his name should be Jonathan Asher. Millie got in practice changing and feeding him and I prepared to go before the judge to complete the adoption papers.
There I stood before the judge, feeling very alone as he grilled me. When my mother slipped into the courtroom, he asked, “Do you want your mother here?” My knees stopped shaking as I nodded yes. Most of his questions weren’t hard to answer, but one stopped my heart. “If a doctor told you couldn’t have any more children, would you still place him for adoption?” Never to hold another baby in my arms! What an awful thought. I couldn’t sign the papers.
Later, in the attorney’s office, I again reflected on my decision. The best decision for Jonathan was the one I had already planned. I couldn’t back out now; I signed the paper to give my baby to Millie and Dan. My mother consoled me by saying we weren’t losing a child, we were gaining a family.
We saw Jonathan grow up from a distance, through photos and annual calls. His parents shared important milestones with us, including when he trusted in Christ.
When he was sixteen, my mother wrote Millie and Dan a letter telling them how God had chosen them to be Jonathan’s parents. Enclosed was a letter for Jonathan explaining to him why I had placed him for adoption. It wasn’t because I didn’t love him, but because I did and wanted the best for him. Now Jonathan is an adult, a fine young man we’ve re-connected with as a family. He shared what this letter had meant to him, settling in his heart that he was a wanted and loved child. God’s providence works in mysterious ways to accomplish his purposes. In Jonathan’s case, I was a link in his life’s chain, and was blessed because of that.