First Delivered Mother’s Day 5-13-07
I was born to a 16 year old girl. I was raised by 2 alcoholics – my father died at age 29 from cirrhosis of the liver. I was 9.
I don’t remember every being hugged, kissed or told that I was loved. I promised myself that when I had kids – they would never doubt – at any time in their lives – that they were loved.
This is my story in a nutshell.
I never expected to adopt 2 little boys, crack babies, fetal alcohol syndrome, ADHD, 2 and 3 years developmentally delayed. One that spoke his own developed language that only his brother could understand
I never thought I would have to fight to have their medications removed and treat their physical and behavioral problems with diet.
I DID expect my boys to attain developmental advancement within 2 years – and they did – because they were put into an environment of love in their Christian child care, their Christian school, their church family, and in our home – and they were constantly lifted up by dozens of prayer warriors. God is so Faithful.
I never expected to be told on 3 separate occasions that my 7 year old had a terminal disease. That they wouldn’t allow the adoption to continue because they weren’t exactly sure what the medical problem was – even though we told them that we didn’t care what he had, we loved him and wanted the adoption to be finalized.
I DID expect a miracle. After the warriors of prayer went to battle – the doctors came back with “Well, we don’t know what happened, but his blood levels are now in the normal range.” We adopted both boys 4/28/1998.
I never thought I would have to stand before my boy’s principal and fight for them to be able to bring their Bible to school.
I never thought I would have to fight with that principal over a suspension because my boys removed themselves from their classrooms and refused to watch a movie filled with magic and witchcraft.
I never thought I’d walk into a bedroom calf-high with toys and clothes.
I never thought I’d say to my boys – after looking into their closet and seeing the clean clothes I had given them, on hangers, laying on the floor – recently baptized by the cat – “well, I retire – they’re your problem from now on!”
I never thought we’d have times where we had to pray over an empty refrigerator and pantry – standing in faith that God answers prayer – and within an hour, each time, He did.
I never thought I’d have to create chore boards and get kids up an hour early each morning to be sure they were done.
I never thought we’d be able to afford to buy the boys laptops – and never thought we’d be taking them back away now and again as behavioral leverage.
I never thought all of my boys would receive the Presidential Award for Physical Fitness – see guys, size isn’t everything.
I never thought I’d be sitting up until 10pm every night doing homework – helping my son work through his learning disability – teaching from short term memory into long term memory.
I never thought one of my sons would receive the Presidential Award for Academic Excellence. Isn’t that awesome!
I never thought my home would be filled with smelly escaping rabbits, gerbils, hamsters, guinea pigs, and a 6’ iguana named Iggy – and “NO” Jon, you may not have an ostrich, I don’t care how tame they say it is.
I never thought my son would tell his High School class that I was his “super-hero” through an essay that he read to the other students.
I never thought my son would write a book of poems, just for me; a precious gift given on Mother’s Day.
I never thought my son would join the ARMY and get sent to Korea – but I couldn’t be more proud.
I never expected my 16 year old to run away to live with a drug dealer so he could feed his drug addiction. To stay away without any direct communication for over 4 months.
I never expected to have to battle with the “enemy of our souls” for that son. Walking and praying in our home and yard for hours upon hours every night – standing on the promises of God. Quoting back the scripture to God –
“God you told me that if I raise him up in the way he should go – he will not depart from it.
“God, you said when we ask anything believing, it will come to pass.
“God you said if I have the faith of a Mustard Seed I can move a mountain – and all I want is to move a boy from an evil place back to his home. God you said !
I never expected to have to play Christian radio 24/7 to bring peace and an anointing, so we could all sleep.
I never expected that our family would need to go into his room regularly and do spiritual warfare in a prayer circle while he was away.
I never expected that I would have to leave letters, clothes and food on my son’s bed – because we knew he would come home and go into his room several times a week. We always told him how much we loved him – even at his most unlovable times. – When my son finally came home, he had every one of those letters with him. It was a testimony to the love he felt, even in his most rebellious time, even though he still spewed words of anger and hate.
I never expected to call the police many times to help me search the streets of Phoenix for my son and bring him home. I refused to lose him into the streets again.
I never expected to have to sit with my son in the emergency room for 15 hours as he was coming out of an alcohol/Methamphetamine overdose.
I never expected to have to visit (2) my sons in Jail – sit in courtroom after courtroom with all (3) – and then visit one of my sons in prison every other week. He was only 18 years old. Those visits became treasured jewels to our family – if you could only see what God did through them. They brought us closer than you can imagine.
My oldest son found Jesus again in a cell in Camp Verde Detention Center. Before long he was moved to Florence and I started getting letters from people in the cells near him – they all started the same – “Hi my name is _____ and I’m in a cell next to your son. I hear him talking about Jesus all the time, and I was wondering if you would teach me about this Jesus.”
Sometimes I’d get a letter from my son saying “Mom, there’s a man here that’s really hurting, and I tried to get him to write to you – but he’s shy. Could you please write to him and encourage him. You know what to do.”
That list of men and women had grown to 70 in 2007, and over 300 as of now. Many have been released and still stayed in touch. Some have become adopted-in children; treasured family members. We have brought over 12 of these hurting people into our home and helped them prepare to for a life in the community. Some came from prison, some came from the streets.
The thing I’ve recognized in writing to these inmates is that most of them have no relationship with their family, especially their mom. The mom’s are dead, drug addicts, in prison, or have abandoned them because of their behaviors. Year after year I received Mother’s Day cards and letters from people I’ve never met – because I took the time to tell them how precious they are to Jesus, and how much I care about how them.
All of my children have made poor decisions and each one has grown tremendously from those poor decisions and the consequences they had to face because of them. Everyone makes poor decisions. That doesn’t make them bad kids; that makes them human.
Don’t tell me a child is not reachable. Don’t tell me a child is hopelessly lost. Inside every angry, tattooed, pierced, cut, cigarette burned young adult is a hurting child that wants to know someone loves them.
They want to know about Jesus, even if they don’t show it. They want to know about unconditional love, even if they don’t say it. They see Jesus through you – and learn about Him through your walk, your fruit – and the words you speak into their lives.
Don’t tell me that it’s impossible to raise respectful, compassionate, God fearing boys. I have 3. My oldest son is in Welding School in College. My middle son is in Fire Science in College. My youngest son is a Pastor, following in my footsteps, preparing to go to Seminary. I couldn’t be more proud of my children – they bless me daily. My boys are not afraid to publicly show affection toward me and tell me that they love me, several times a day. They tell each other the same and are there for each other when difficulties arise.
MY GOD was there with me every step of the last 28 years of being a Mom, giving me grace to see through the hard and difficult steps – making every step of this challenge a gift of LOVE. God used the difficult times to bring healing and peace to the family.
Being a Mom isn’t easy – but it’s the greatest gift God has ever given a woman. It’s the greatest gift God has given me. I am SO PROUD to be a MOM.
2014 Update:
This last year I was blessed with a wonderful and beautiful daughter-in-law and a 4 year old grandson. They are true treasures. My oldest son has graduated from Welding School, just a few days ago. My middle son is back in the military, keeping our country safe. My youngest son is not where he should be – but I hold him constantly in prayer. Thank you God for blessing me with this incredible family.
2022 Update:
Life continues to evolve and each of my children – birth child, adopted children, adopted in children, those who call me mama – have taken paths that I don’t understand, but God does. Some have done amazingly well. Some have made terribly poor choices. Some go through the trials and the successes and back and forth, just like every other person on this earth – and I know that, without a shadow of a doubt – God is holding them in the palm of His hand. This praying mama will never give up, either will my Jesus. No matter what came and what battles we have faced, or will yet to face – I would never regret being a mom.
By Mama Linda J. Humes
Tags: Blessing, Faith, Family, Life, Mom
Linda J. Humes 