Happy Birth Day

37 years ago I entered this world, early on a cold January morning. After spending some days in the hospital, I would live with a foster family for a few weeks. In March, the couple who would become my parents received a phone call saying that there was a baby girl ready to be picked up, ready to become their daughter. My parents suddenly were in a flurry of getting last minute things ready, canceling a vacation, letting their parents know they were about to become grandparents, and deciding what they would name me. On the way home from picking me up at Children’s Aid offices in Newmarket, my dad would order not 2, but 3 burgers at A&W! (guess they could have just blended it up for me…!)

I grew up hearing that story in lieu of the story many kids hear about the mad rush to the hospital and being born. Until I was 27, I had no idea what happened on the day that I was born. Honestly, I still don’t have most of the details… but what I do have is better. I have the story of Dad and the 3 burgers, the story of Mom and her friend making the first batch of formula and spilling it on the floor in their excitement. I have the story of Mom and Dad having to cancel their vacation to Florida (and we didn’t make it to FL until i was in grade 6 i think!), and all of the excitement of becoming parents literally overnight.  I also have the story of going to pick up my brother Jonathan from another adoption agency when I was 3 – one of my earliest and most treasured memories, and something I will never forget.

Then there is the story of finding my birth parents when i was 27. Meeting my birth mom, Lorraine, and her fiance (now her wonderful husband) and her son Mark at a restaurant and just being speechless. Meeting my birth father John, then his wife Joanne, and their kids Adam and Lindsay. My birth father, John, looking at a newborn Josh and saying “oh, he looks just like you did when you were born”. I have the story of my birth mom sharing her feelings about being pregnant with me and then being in a situation where she was forced to place me for adoption. I have the funny coincidence of my adoptive father and my birth father, who each have the same first and middle name!

What I have is the story of me.  It’s unique and beautiful, and I’m thankful for it.  God knew what He was doing all along, and He still knows what He is doing (even when I don’t). Some years ago, I chose Jeremiah 29:11 as a verse for my life.  In it, God speaks to Israel in exile and says “I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out-plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.” (from The Message)  That verse is from a passage that talks about the long haul – generations of Israel that would be in exile.  God was reassuring them that He had not forgotten about them, but that they needed to put roots down and be faithful.  And God does not forget about us, He is in it for the long haul.  He cares about the details of our lives.  As I sit here watching fluffy flakes of snow fall on another cold January morning… I am thankful.