Yesterday, I was a bit under the weather…not the dramatic kind of under the weather, but I was just not very active. I was tired. And honestly, I felt a little sad too.
But first, Jesus…that is where I keep running. Over and over and over again. I run to Him when I am scared. I run to Him when I am weak. I run to Him when I am frustrated. I run to Him when my body feels like too much…and when I am sad. And guess what? He fills me. I just wish he’d heal me completely, physically. But, not yet.
But, yesterday, a Jesus moment came through Tatum.
Now, let me be honest. We had a rough start. Finals are coming, and there was homework to finish, and I could feel myself getting frustrated. She was not staying on task the way I thought she should, and I started doing that mom thing where I believe if I just push harder, explain louder, redirect one more time, or hover intensely enough, somehow everything will magically get done. It does not work that way, unfortunately.
Yes, I need to chill sometimes, and I need to let her fail, but that is hard to watch. I cannot force her into focus. I cannot control every outcome. I cannot make finals less stressful by becoming more stressed. That one is on me.
But somehow, by the grace of God, we got to a good place.
A really good place.
At some point, Tatum took a picture of me. I was not trying to pose. I did not feel cute. I did not feel strong. I did not feel like the best version of myself.
And she looked at it and said, “You’re so pretty, Mommy.”
Then she made it the lock screen on her phone.
Man. Just…geez.
Later, we were watching Grey’s Anatomy reruns together, because apparently that is what you do when life feels heavy and you want fictional hospital chaos to distract you from your own. There was a scene where a pregnant woman had been hurt in the hospital, and she asked for a lawyer because she wanted to make sure her child would be protected. She did not have a will, and she wanted everything in place.
And suddenly, I was crying.
Because I remembered…I remembered the hospital. I remembered Tatum in the incubator. I remembered her birth mom, April, in that room. I remembered April’s mom right outside the room. It was a defining moment.
The hospital person came in, and April officially made me, Stephanie Knight, the mother on Tatum’s birth certificate…She could have changed her mind right then and there.
But she didn’t. She chose me….ME!
She chose Tatum’s future with me as her mommy.
And in that moment, I became Tatum’s mom officially in the eyes of the hospital, in the birth certificate paperwork, and in the eyes of the woman who had carried her. I could take her home. My baby…home! I will never forget that.
Tatum saw me crying and started comforting me. Then she asked, “When did you tell me I was adopted?” And I told her the story. She was four. I’ll never forget that night. I was teaching a night class at GCU, and suddenly I just knew. I knew in my spirit. I knew in my mom heart. I knew that that was the night. So I let my students go home early.
I drove home, and Doug was there, and my mom was there. I had a book ready.
Before that night, I had always told Tatum she was born from my heart. But that night, we read the book and told her more of the story. She may not have understood every detail at four years old. But she knew the most important part….THAT SHE was chosen, wanted, and loved completely.
And I would always, always be her forever mommy.
So, we stopped the show and she disappeared into the office. She started looking through our massive collection of picture books.
And when I say massive, I mean we have kept almost all of them. (this is a SMALL number of what is left. But still…shelves and shelves of stories. Every night…almost daily for minutes..sometimes hours until maybe three years ago.
But.. then the sweetest thing happened. Tatum started pulling books off the shelves.
Not just any books. The ones we remembered.
And then she started to read to me….and read to me. Like a teacher! (which BTW is her dream…and I hope she lives it out!) I had been feeling awful. Truly awful.
But then I laughed and listened. I forgot about the pain for a little while. I forgot about feeling sick. It was kind of an unexpected, Jesus-given break.
And maybe that is what made it so special. Nothing monumental happened. We did not go somewhere fancy. There was no big event. No perfect schedule.. Heck it was unplanned!
This memory just opened a door of happiness.
Then I saw my Coopy sitting at the door waiting.
And my wonderful husband outside, working hard like he always does, making our home more beautiful. Just your basic ordinary day.
But it was holy.
Sometimes the best days are not the ones where everything goes perfectly. Sometimes they are the days where you start frustrated, cry during a TV show, end up surrounded by children’s books, and realize God has been with you the whole time. And that is what kept me going. Yesterday, Tatum kept me going.
And of course, Doug loved us by serving…and Coopy waited for me (or someone!!) in his little sunny spot.
And I was reminded again that my life is not perfect, but it is full.
Thank You, Jesus, for my family.
And thank You that I get to be Tatum’s forever mommy.