Alas, I Will Praise Him
In the Psalms, we are told to - “let every thing that has breath, praise the Lord”. This is quite easy to do when the road of life is easy and the burden of being is light as a feather upon our back. But how can praises ring forth from your lips when the God whom demands such praises has ripped your heart out of your chest and put it through an emotional meat grinder? Alas, I will praise Him…for it’s the only right thing to do.
We’ve been trying for what seem like years to have a baby the good old fashion way, (after all practice makes perfect as they say, whoever the “they” are.) But after months of planting seed in what seemed to be a very fertile valley, none was taking root. We decided to get physicals and see what might be the matter. Judy, my lovely wife, checked out well and was in perfect health. And with all of my health related issues, I, too, checked out well. With one exception: the medicine I was taking for my Crohn’s disease was affecting the sperm count and movement. I was told that the medicine was making me sterile, but not to give up hope that there were alternative drugs I could be taking. A change in meds was ordered and three months later another sperm count was needed to see if there was any improvements. The seminal analysis showed that the count was vastly improved and there was movement but it wasn’t the movement the doctor had hope for; tail chasing with little forward movement.
I know that a man’s out look on life depends heavily on what he is made of, for it is the fuel that drives his veracity for life and his passions as well. And the baggage compartment between his legs, which God gave him at birth, controls it all. So when I was told that my soldiers were having problems marching into battle – having directional problems finding the object of the goal - I was a little more than depressed. At thirty-seven years of age, I was told that the possibility of siring a child was slim at best. I was still told to keep trying because even though I was still young, there was still a slight possibility that I could get my wife pregnant with the sperm that I had. But while the act of procreating is still the best way to get one’s spouse in the family way, the very act took on the feeling of a chore that has to be done in order to…well, let’s just say I was starting to miss the pleasure of my wife’s company and I was growing tired of “punching” a time clock.
Meanwhile, Judy had a friend whose underage granddaughter was pregnant and was told by her father to give it up for adoption. We were approached to be the adoptive parents and we readily agreed. But after a short period of time, the young girl decided to keep the baby.
A change in jobs for me and with a new home to live in along with a new town to reside in, we got back into the practice of bringing forth life in more ways than one; we were now parents to two cats.
The same friend approached us and the granddaughter was again pregnant and this time she really wanted to give up the child for adoption. We agreed to it and when we hadn’t heard from her in six weeks time, we knew she changed her mind again as it was confirmed by the friend. We also became friends with a couple who lived in a nearby town during this time. The wife told Judy of a cousin of hers that was incarcerated and was pregnant. However, due to the crime that she was in prison for, changes were the courts won’t let her keep the baby. We were asked to be the adoptive parents.
Having been down this road before without any real thought to prayer for the decision to add on to the family, Judy and I thought it best if we consult God for this resolution in our lives. We went into prayer and heard “take the child”. We agreed to be the child adoptive parents. We had two months to prepare our house for the coming child and in July of 02, I received a phone call from the hospital in Madera, California, saying our son was born the previous night.
When we got him home and settled in, I went back to work, passed out chocolate bars (don’t like cigars nor do I smoke) and started to enjoy the life of being a Dad to two sons, (we started the adoption paper work for one son, the other son is Judy’s and I will further explain his affect on me at the end of this article). Towards the end of that first week, I called home to see how Judy and the boys were doing and that’s when she told me that the mother changed her mind. It was if some one plunged a knife into our heart and cut out all the life in us. To say we were numbed was an understatement. A person polluted with alcohol over a lifetime is numbed compared to what Judy, Jared and I went through that night. All the plans and hopes we had for this son will have to be for another family, not ours.
How do you cry when the pain is so deep that there are no tears? How do you pray when there are no words to pray for? How do you control a rage that wants to trample over you lives like a bull seeing red? In a phrase -
Praise God from whom all blessings flow –
Praise Him all creatures here below
I will praise God! I will praise Him with my very being, for it is the only thing that makes sense during harshness of life. It gives us a glimpse of His perspective on our lives and most importantly, it draws us closer to Him, where healing can take place and maturity fosters. I can’t be angry with God for someone not being in obedience of His will; that is one thing He will not interfere with unless asked to do so by the person. All I know is that we were in obedience. And all things work for a purpose, especially if God has His hand in it; the boy ended up in a good family and is being raised in a Godly manner. And that’s what really counts here.
As for my fertility issues, some will say that I have a right to be angry with God for giving me a flawed system – in other words, I got cheated. To that I say, “No, I didn’t” for the blessings He has given me over the span of my life - a God fearing woman who loves me with everything possible to love a man with and a son. Even though he does not have one ounce of my blood in him nor does he share my name, Jared is still my son. Because I have seen him grow from small boy to man and have experienced him every day since February 26, 1990. That was the day I entered he and his mother lives on a permanent basis.
I will never quite know all the reasons why God allows things to happen the way they do, it’s still a mystery. As I said before, “Alas, I will praise Him” for it’s the only thing to do.
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What a story of faith on your part! Thank you for sharing this. I was truly blessed to hear of your faith and praise of the Father in your circumstances.