Children of Dreams
Language: English
Pages: 236
ISBN: 1602643865
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"Do you have anything to say?" the judge asked.
My husband, Tim, looked down to hide his shame. "I took away her dreams."
I swallowed hard to hold back tears. After eight years of marriage, supporting him through medical school, and trying to conceive, I couldn't bear the pain of his affair and the divorce he sought.
I left the courthouse where I worked as a court reporter thinking my life was over. I had lost the man I deeply loved and wanted a child more than anything. Now the other woman carried my husband's baby. Jealousy consumed me. Even my friends at church knew she was pregnant before I did. No one told me--not one person. But God did.
I couldn't imagine being single again. I couldn't imagine being happy again. I couldn't imagine ever being a mommy. How could he leave me after all I had done for him? I loved Tim too much to hate him. I felt like a fool for hanging on to broken dreams as my biological clock reminded me each month of my barrenness. Desperation had given way to acceptance of the inevitable, but was God impotent to mend my broken heart? Despite my unbelief, I knew God held the answers to my future. I clung to that as I clutched my Bible and cried.
Twenty-five years later, I wrote Children of Dreams, a true story of God's redemption that changed my life--forever!
until we get to Heaven. Everybody has heard the cliché, “God has a wonderful plan for our lives.” My life did not seem wonderful, but that was also because God wasn’t done. My ex-husband told the judge in our divorce hearing, “I took away her dreams.” Maybe he thought he did, but I refused to give him that much credit. God had to delay fulfillment of my dreams until I was ready to receive them, gift wrapped by suffering, that could only be opened by willing, submissive hands for His purposes. I
Vietnamese television without interest. The excitement of being in a foreign country had lost its appeal and dissipated into emotional survival, one hour at a time. “Maybe we will hear something good tomorrow,” Jenni tried to encourage me. “Yes, maybe,” I responded, still feeling unconvinced. Jenni quickly dozed off into sleep land but no matter how long I closed my eyes, my mind kept replaying the scenes of earlier in the day. At 3:30 a.m., wondering if anybody had sent me an email or fax, I
around getting used to having only three legs. After a few days we settled into a routine. I was elated that things were working out. Even my husband had quit complaining about the extra work involved. A couple of nights later, the phone rang. It was the veterinarian’s office. “We wanted to ask you a personal question,” the woman said. “Okay,” I said, not sure where this was going. “We just wanted to know how things were working out with Fifi.” “They are working out fine,” I replied. “Fifi
worked in the rice paddies north of us and I reflected on the future Joy would have faced had I not adopted her. Frequently we passed bikers wearing a hat called a Non La. I was struck at how life moved at a snail’s pace in third-world countries, especially away from the city. It was almost like stepping back in time. I wondered, in my fast-paced, hurried environment back home in Gainesville, what I was missing. If only I had time to stop and “smell the flowers.” I vowed to spend more time in my
make the heroic choice of letting their baby breathe, someday ride a bike, get married, and have children of their own. May they picture their “bundle of joy” chasing butterflies in a field of their own hopes and dreams. Through their courageous sacrifice and the gift of adoption, another woman’s empty arms can be full of “joy.” My Joy My Joy, my valentine, born in my heart, My priceless treasure from a world apart. My Joy, my daughter, who fills me with love, May God richly bless you from