The Baby Tree

When my wife and I found out we had miscarried, we deeply felt the loss, even though she was only six weeks pregnant and our child was a wee little thing. We decided to buy a tree as a memorial for our child. We wrote notes to it and put them in a plastic bag and put it in the hole we dug for the tree. We planted it in our front yard and we call it The Baby Tree.

It's an Eastern Redbud. In the spring, it has a lot of really pretty blossoms on it, but it wasn't always so. It was very skinny when we first got it and I had to put a tree staking kit around it to support it. When the weather would be stormy and windy the tree would flop all over the place. A year after I planted it we had a very strong thunderstorm and the tree trunk broke right above where the support ring for the tree staking kit was. It was hanging by a small sliver of bark so I got a saw and cut it off the rest of the way.

We were afraid it would die so we called a nursery and asked them about it. They said it would start growing branches right beneath where it broke. Sure enough, about a month later, I saw some branches growing right under where the trunk broke. It's now eight years later and the trunk has turned into a thick, strong base for all the branches that have grown from it. The tree has a very full canopy and in the spring it has an abundance of redbuds.

When I think of that tree, I think about how we each reach a breaking point in our lives. With God's help we can turn what's left from those breaking points into a firm foundation God can use for all the fruit our lives will produce.

Reaching a breaking point isn't bad. It can strip away all the unnecessary things we've let get into our lives that take our focus off of God. All the things we've been doing to make ourselves into what we think we need to be. God strips all that away to make us into what He wants us to be. The end result is much more glorious than anything our feeble efforts could've accomplished.

When we had our miscarriage, we were broken. We wanted a child so bad but we realized God was taking us in a different direction. We trusted Him completely. We became foster parents and had many more children in our home and had the privilege of adopting one of them. When it's stormy and windy and I feel like at my end, I know good things are on the way.

Final Order of Adoption

Our daughter was a week old when she was placed in our home. We knew from the beginning we would have a good chance of adopting her. I was at work when my wife went to the hospital to pick her up. I knew she was black and, when I got home, I was excited to see her. I was expecting her hair to be curly but it was straight and flat against her head. That lasted about a month and then it got curly very fast. She was so stinking cute. Yes, I am unashamedly biased. She's my daughter, of course, she's the cutest one.

When she was a baby and we took her places we would carry her in a baby carrier. When I would take her out of the carrier, I noticed people would be watching to get a glimpse of a cute baby. When they saw she was black they would do a double take. It was funny. They weren't expecting to see a white dude with a black baby. After a few years, I stopped even noticing it. I did carry a copy of the Final Order of Adoption with me in case any police wanted to question me. I never really thought they would because they would conclude she was adopted. It just made me feel better in case they did.

When she was three years old, I took her to a park and thought I was going to have to pull it out and make use of it. We were at the far end of the park. A long way from where my truck was parked. We had been there for an hour and a half and needed to leave so we could be home for dinner. I told her it was time to go and she said she didn't want to. She sat down and wouldn't move at all. So I had to pick her up and carry her and she fought me and squirmed the whole time. She kept yelling no and saying she didn't want to go. When I say she yelled, I want to make sure you understand the girl has  a tremendous set of lungs residing in her chest. Everyone knew she was not going willingly.

This is the time, I thought. I can just see how this looks. White guy carting off black kid. A cop is going to stop me any moment now. But I made it to my truck without being stopped. I put her in the car seat and got in the driver's seat. I started the truck and then closed my eyes for about five minutes and collected myself. Carrying a thirty-five pound child who's fighting you all the way, as far as I had to carry her, was exhausting. She was still crying so I got a tissue and got out of the car and walked to her door and cleaned all the snot off her face.

A year later, I took her to the mall. It was about five p.m. and we ate dinner in the food court and then split a big chocolate chip cookie. We then walked around and I let her ride the little kiddie rides that were in various places in the mall. By the Belk for Men store there was a playground she played on for a while. She noticed there was a frozen yogurt place there. She wanted to get a frozen yogurt and I told her she'd already had a big cookie and she didn't need any more sweets. She didn't protest and we moved on to JC Penney.

She wanted to go up the escalator so we did that. Then she wanted to go down the elevator. The elevator lets you out in the children's clothes section on the first floor. We made that circuit of going up the escalator and down the elevator for about forty-five minutes. The ladies working in children's clothing started greeting us every time we got off the elevator. Finally, she said she was tired. We went out of the store and found a bench to sit on. By this time it was seven thirty and I needed to get her home. She asked if she could get a frozen yogurt. I told her no again and told her we needed to go home. To say that answer did not meet with her approval in any approximation would be a gross understatement.

She said no very loudly. As I mentioned before, the child was blessed with a tremendous set of lungs. I found we had garnered the attention of a few folks. It was then that I was struck by the thought that I was parked at the other end of the mall. I would have to get her all the way through the mall when she was quite unwilling to go. She also decided to start yelling for MOMMY.

I quietly told her it was time go and took a hold of her hand and started walking. She weighed too much for me to carry her. She worked her hand out of my grip and threw herself on the floor all the while yelling NO and I WANT MY MOMMY. So I grabbed her wrist and really had to clamp down on her to keep her from working her hand free. It really did look like I was trying to make off with a kid who really didn't want to go with me. Naturally, I thought this would be the time I got stopped and questioned.

We trudged our way through the mall. I was half dragging her. She walked enough to where I wasn't dragging her but it was close to being that. We were definitely the center of attention. I made it outside the mall and was close to my truck when I heard this car behind me and turned to see what was going on. I saw this car coming right for me and at the last minute the car pulled beside me.

"Is everything ok?" the lady driver asked me. I noticed she had two kids in the back seat. They looked like they were thirteen or fourteen. My first thought was it's none of your business. But then I immediately thought it was good she cared enough to at least question the situation.

"Yes, everything's fine," I answered. "She doesn't want to leave the mall but it's time for her to go home and go to bed."

"I just heard her yelling 'No' and calling for her mom and just wanted to check on it."

"My wife and I adopted her. Her mom's at home and she thinks her mom will save her from having to leave the mall."

"Ok. I've adopted my kids," she said and pointed in the back seat. "I know how it is. I just wanted to make sure everything was ok."

I thanked her and she drove off. I wasn't mad at her. I was a little perturbed with my kid but I wasn't mad at the lady. I thought it was nice she cared enough to question the situation. I thought it was funny that right after I got my daughter in the truck and I got in a police car drove by. It probably had nothing to do with me because it's pretty common to see police at the mall.

Thankfully, scenes like that haven't happened anymore. She's eight now and she does have some tantrums but not to that degree. Part of her behavior is because of the drugs she was exposed to in utero. She has gotten better the older she gets. Hopefully, that continues. Just all part of the great adventure we are on. I've also stopped carrying the Final Order of Adoption with me.I don't worry anymore about people questioning us being together. We act like Father/Daughter and it shows. There's no doubt about it.


 I think about how God has adopted me. When Jesus died on the cross and shed His blood and said, "It is finished", that was the Final Order of Adoption. His blood is on the door post of my heart just like it was on the door post for the Israelites during the first Passover. It marked them as His. It marks me as His. I'm His child and there's no doubt about it.