Archives for February 2019

How Have I Found Family? We All Can Find Family.

02.26.2019 by Anne Marie Sopiarz //

Welcome to FACETS of Faith. We are wrapping up our series Have you found your family with our guest contributor, Anne Marie Sopiarz. I (Tracy) met Anne Marie at a Christian Women Business Organization meeting. She was the guest speaker and blessed us with her communication gift during her talk on connection with others. I knew I wanted to share her gift with others, like seed scattered so that others could receive the good gifts God has for us all through what He puts on her heart. With that, enjoy Anne Marie’s contribution to this month’s topic on family. Family. What a complicated word! Ask someone about “family” and you will likely get an emotional response. The response might be a huge smile representing love and thankfulness. The response might be eyes that glance downward revealing deep wounds and hurt at the mention of family.

Family is complicated in my life too! I have a brother who didn’t grow up with us, and my father has been married a few, well lots, of times.

I have friends all around the country whom I consider family, and I am blessed when I look at the beautiful family God has given my husband and me! This little nuclear family includes our adopted daughter who has shaped my understanding of family dramatically.

Most of all, when I think of family I think of the family of God. God is my good Father, and I am His child.

I have been blessed to study the book of Romans in-depth this year through BSF. We dig and dig each week into a handful of verses. We wrestle with each one and let God speak to us. What a gift!

As a result of my study of the book of Romans, I have been struck lately with the truth that we are adopted as God’s children. I am a child of God. If you are a believer, then you are a child of God too.

Adoption is quite the word.

My study of Romans left me considering adoption, but life experience made it come alive.

Last December I sat in the courtroom for another hearing on behalf of our foster daughter. But this one was not just another hearing. It was her “best case” hearing. Basically, our agency was laying out evidence to the judge that our daughter’s “best case” was to be adopted by us– her foster family who has loved and cared for her most of the years of her life. It was gut wrenching and sacred. I was not “allowed” to speak in court, but I sobbed silently in the last row as the judge declared my girl’s standing and placement to be “best” with my husband and me.

She has been ours all along, but with this declaration she becomes a full member of our family, and she inherits full rights as our daughter!

It’s the same for God with you and me, adopted with full rights!

God, our Father, sees each of us as His child.

How does God feel when we let Him claim us as His daughter or son? Probably similar to how I felt in that courtroom!

We are His all along. Once we realize that truth, we can finally be freely loved by God. We get the full benefits of being His child.

“I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” Jesus in John 14:18

Behave instead like God’s very own children, adopted into His family– calling Him Abba, Father. Romans 8:15

The Greek word for adoption here is a term referring to the full legal standing of an adopted male heir in Roman culture. God, our good, good Father adopts us. We will experience this fully one day (Romans 8:23), but it makes a difference in our life here and now as well. We are His. You are His. You are claimed and adopted. I am claimed. I have been declared His child. What a gift!

I get emotional when I let this truth sink in and when I live out of that place. How about you?

When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” Galatians 4:4-6 (emphasis added)

There were legal realities God had to deal with, which is why He sent His Son, Jesus, to cover our sins. His justice and law demanded punishment and exclusion from his presence because of our sins. God’s mercy brought our redeemer, Jesus. His sacrifice on the cross and our acceptance of Him as Savior gives us righteousness in Christ. God had to satisfy His justice and His law in order to adopt sinners into his family. This He did by the life, death, and resurrection of his Son Jesus Christ.

God our Father cries in the courtroom too. It has been decided. We have been claimed. Let Him claim you. Let Him claim me.

I have Full Rights as His daughter! My prayer is that I sit in it and live from it. How about you? Family to a believer means being a child of God! I thank God for this truth today!

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

Do you desire to be part of the family of God? He wants nothing more than to adopt you as His son or daughter, dearly loved. He died so you can freely live, both here on earth and in heaven. He sets the lonely in families, where as Christians we call each other brother and sister. If you would like to be adopted into God’s family, say this prayer from your heart:

I believe You, Jesus, died on the cross for the forgiveness of my sin. I believe You love me enough to die for me, and You desire my adoption into Your family. I commit to following You as You lead and guide the way like any good parent would do. Show me what is best for my life and help me to live in light of that truth. I know being a Christian comes with blessings but doesn’t eliminate every trial either. The difference, though, is I am never alone as a child of God. Thank You for never leaving me, nor forsaking me. Thank You for helping me navigate each day as You help me every step of the way. Help me to hear Your voice, to listen and to obey the good, loving, Fatherly guidance You have for me. In Jesus’ name, amen!

If you just said the above prayer, WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!

Have something to say? Join the conversation here or on our Facebook page.

We Are Family: Finding and Getting to Know Your Family

02.12.2019 by Jennifer Howe //

Welcome to Facets! We’re glad you dropped by. We think you’ll enjoy this month’s topic: finding family. Tracy shared about finding family through a DNA test, Kim is crafting thoughts for next Tuesday, and the following week we have a guest to introduce.I (Jennifer) have memories: playing outside until dusk in the little suburban neighborhood; games of football, frisbee, and tag in a vacant lot across the street; neighborhood kids in that lot after school, Saturday afternoons, and more often in the summer. When the street light on our corner lit up, it was time to go home.

I, with my short legs, wanted to tag along with my older sisters; truth is, as a little sister, I wasn’t cool enough to run with the big kids. I’d show up, only to be sent home. That stage went on for at least three forevers.

In a blink, the oldest sister was off to school, then the second. By then I was drowning in turbulent high school years that transitioned into college chaos. The last sister was on her own journey four years later.

The nest eventually emptied; we all found our flight patterns. I migrated furthest away. We still gather when we can, and I’ve found the transition in these years to be refreshing. It’s been a long time coming, this season we’re in.

You can live with people and never know them.
Never assume. Lesson learned. I lived nearly 18 years with my sisters and thought I knew every detail about them. The truth is I held a caricature of each sister in my mind. One was “the smart, responsible one.” Another was “the smart, social one.” Another was “the super-talented one who could do anything.” Those descriptions were accurate. The distorted caricature took shape over layers of sibling arguing and competition.

Lately, the time spent with family has been different. We’ve flown and grown. Time apart allowed for new experiences and individual growth. I’m not the same person. But, guess what! They aren’t the same either. Some threads in the fabric are distinct, maybe bolder or shinier than they were. The character traits are intricately woven. Many threads have changed or been removed altogether, a little like intricate cutwork. Much of who I am (and who my sisters are) may come from our shared environment as kids, but now I know we didn’t experience the same things in the same way. Many life-changing experiences were never shared at all.

Three phone calls changed my relationships.

Road trips are revealing.
Two phone calls on very different days.

The first asked if I was willing to go on a road trip to Massachusetts. I had spent time with my sister, but nothing as long or in such small space. I had the time, and I love road trips. We’d do a little sight seeing, but there was a new baby to see, too. An adventure! With a sister? Okay. Our rental car had no key fob, stormy weather followed us east for two days, and we talked most of the way. I, being an early riser and too noisy, learned about my sister’s morning routine. And we had fun, except for that one morning. (I learned to be quieter!)

I wouldn’t have traded the experience for anything! Driving through two days of downpour, almost running out of gas, the precious newborn, the walks through Boston, the once-in-a-lifetime lunch. All of it is treasure!

The second call was different. The road trip was short enough to do in a day, but long enough to make it difficult. This one was tricky; the “official ask” didn’t come. I made the assumption I wasn’t needed but took it back when a voice whispered, “Would you write about finding your family without leaning in here?” No. No, I wouldn’t. We padded the trip with a relaxed evening, knowing a long day waited on the other side of sleep. An evening, a long day with a mission, and driving home overnight. That’s an opportunity to get to know someone.

This trip was different: there were moments when it was just two sisters, and then there was extended time with a third family member I spend no time with. And it was all really good, as tough as the trip was. We were short on time and long on miles. The weather would shift, but it was tough to know how and when. Add snow to the end of a long drive, and it just wears on a driver. We did it, though. And for me, finding family on this trip was about little conversations in pockets and longer conversations when the hours crawled.

I wouldn’t trade the road trips for anything. I learned shared experience isn’t completely shared. The caricatures I held in my mind cracked, and pieces began to fall away when I understood my sisters’ perspectives. The relationships between us have been shifting for years—they still need tending to grow—but I can see and understand why things became tense and how they can become healthy. I simply agreed to a couple of road trips.

Share the best me with family.
In less than a month I’ll celebrate one of those birthdays—you know, one where the math gets really simple to calculate the age. *wink* I’m not that little girl running after my sisters’ crowd anymore. My legs aren’t too short—they touch the ground when I’m standing, and I can wear four-inch heels. My natural, metallic roots were given the freedom they always wanted. I’m more comfortable in my own skin. (It’s about time!)

I’ve learned lessons in this stage, and each one is precious! This one (presenting my best self with family) was harder. In order to do it, I had to offer the real me, something JEN-uine. I can’t be on a hunt to find my family without offering authentic me.

Families may play a wicked game of “best self” with overdone, fake, cleaned-up images. No one is interested in that, but authenticity and vulnerability only happen in safe places. That means listening more than speaking, noticing more than ignoring, and validating more than preaching, teaching, or explaining. And then there’s taking ownership of the “stuff.”

The “best me” gets real and accepts all the ridiculous shortcomings.
The third call was hard. I dialed a sister who had to be deeply wounded by my words and actions. I was aware, and I wanted to try to repair. It was a good conversation. There was the initial brush-off that can happen when one asks forgiveness, but I pressed in gently. I asked about the pain and emotions connected to my words and actions. I apologized. We both cried. I found family in another way.

We lose relationships over years of disconnection. Ignored hurts are relational landmines, and those are only deactivated in quiet, intimate, carefully-selected moments. Beneath the rubble of a harsh past lies a potentially beautiful future for family. It takes time and intention.

Friend, I don’t know your story—but we have been placed in families, and it can be amazing and wonderful and challenging (and downright hard!). Have you gone looking for your family? Do you know them? Really know them? I find the search to be tough when I haven’t taken time to listen, notice, and validate; but it’s really rich when I do.

Thanks for reading all these words, friend! I’d love to know more about your own journey to finding family. Will you comment below or the Facebook Page?

P. S. Check the comments for additional thoughts on finding family from me!

Have You Found Your Family?

02.05.2019 by Tracy Stella //

Welcome to February and our topic this month at FACETS: Have you found your family? Our hope and prayer is we all grow in our ability to connect and relate with others. May our writing this month encourage you to step forward boldly in your own relationships. Stop by each week this month to see what Jen, Kim, and our guest contributor have to say on the topic of finding family. Let this February be full of LOVE. We’re excited to see and hear what God does in your relationships, so let us know.

Out of the blue, but not beyond God’s sovereign timing, I received an email that has the potential to change my life.

Early last winter, I took a DNA test. My initial thought was, it would be great to understand what nationality I am. Being adopted, I didn’t know.

I’m 50. Why bother exploring my ancestry? Does it really matter where we come from?

My answer to that question is, “yes”. Understanding our history helps us fulfill our destiny. When we don’t know who we are, it wreaks havoc on who we can become.

Before I became a believer in Christ, the not knowing really messed with me. I wouldn’t have been able to articulate this in words, but I had major attachment issues. If my own father didn’t want me, who would? It’s a hard thing when a little girl doesn’t think her daddy loves her. The thing she fears most is rejection, of not being loved.

With God’s help, I’ve grown to learn my daddy’s absence had nothing to do with me.

One of the sweetest gifts I received as a result of accepting Jesus in my heart is the knowledge of His acceptance. He acknowledges me as His daughter. He comforts me. He holds me. He wipes away every tear. He celebrates every joy. He is sweet, loving, kind, and generous. Trustworthy─and I need that! He fills the deep well of my heart and soul with the knowledge I am dearly loved by my Father in heaven. He abides in my heart. His love changed me. His love healed me. His love helped me see my biological father through eyes of compassion.

God helped (and helps) me navigate abandonment and attachment issues. He reminds me He is Immanuel, God with us–God with me. Always. To the end of the age.

Perhaps because of the confidence I have in knowing I am a daughter of the Most High, cherished and dearly loved, I had the courage to listen to God’s prompting. Apparently, God thought the timing was “now” to understand more of my history. So I purchased the DNA kit. Nervous and excited to learn my family history, I did the unglamorous bit of surrendering my saliva to the scientists who would help me understand more about who I am, where I come from. History to help connect the dots.

The ancestry email came back with surprising results. I always thought I had a lot more Irish in my DNA, what with my dark hair and freckles (without the rather cool Irish accent). Come to find out, I am only a wee bit Irish; 8% to be exact. I’m also 14% German with the bulk of my bloodline descending from England, Wales and Northwestern Europe. Who knew? I might be more British than my friend who came from Great Britain (and has the cool accent to go along with the ancestry). I had a scone the last time I was at Starbucks if that counts for anything.

Have you ever thought something your whole life only to find out it wasn’t true?

I wasn’t Irish (or not that much). I wasn’t abandoned. I was dearly loved. I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know who her family was.

Right about the same time I sent my DNA for analysis, my cousin had done the same. She too didn’t grow up in the Bennett clan, but shared the same genetic makeup. Karen was adopted as well. Small world. Very small world. She lives not too far from me. She also sells real estate (weird, right?). She seems adventurous, so we have that in common too.

I’m grateful to Karen, because she reached out delicately suggesting we might be related. Cautiously, thoughtfully, she couched her first connection with a lot of maybe and might language. “We might be related.” She mentioned names I recognized. I knew a hint of family history. She spoke about those things carefully.

We have a coffee date planned. I look forward to connecting face-to-face.

My cousin already gave me a gift, and it’s not even Christmas! You see, I have a sister. I knew about her. I met her once, after our father’s funeral when I was in high school. It’s a long story for another time, perhaps. The short story is I met my biological father once, and then he passed away not long thereafter.

I met his entire family at his funeral. He is one of 11 children with a sea of relatives. Between the roil of emotion inside me and the sheer volume of Bennetts, that day will forever go down in my mind as one of overwhelm (even as I was happy to finally meet the family I’d been so curious about).

It almost felt like I was watching a play: lots of unfamiliar characters and more than a little drama.

That day became one I set on a shelf, safely away from having to process through all those emotions.

My sister and I are six years apart, but our lives have been miles apart. Literally. She lives in France. I knew that. My grandmother on my mom’s side had shared the news with me a number of years ago. When I found out, I tried to reach out to her, but I didn’t have any luck connecting. I thought she didn’t want to, and I wanted to respect her wishes and not encroach upon her life if she wasn’t in that place – able to risk a relationship with a sister who also happened to be a stranger.

I had shared with my cousin that I’d tried to reach out to my sister to no avail. Perhaps, because my cousin knows what it feels like to have siblings you don’t know, she gave me the gift of my sister. She shared with my sister what I had conveyed via email and my sister reached out via Facebook. This is one of those times when social media serves a good cause, it’s original cause, to connect people.

My sister’s name is Laura. She never knew I tried to reach out. She never got the message.

You know what I think about that?

I think it just wasn’t time. Perhaps, she wouldn’t have been prepared for it. Perhaps, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. But now? Now is the time.

Now is the time to get to know this person you have a strong desire to get to know, because you share something, even if there are no shared memories. There’s a sibling bond in spite of it all. The desire to connect pulls you into places of courage and vulnerability.

Laura and I arranged for a time to talk via video chat. I was nervous. After all, the last time she and I spoke she was in 4^th grade. Now, she is 44. An entire life lived by her and by me.

My biggest fear was our time together would be awkward and uncomfortable. Again, God was helping me with my fear of rejection and abandonment by bringing me my sister and having me risk those very things. What if she didn’t like me? What if we couldn’t connect? What if the whole thing was just too weird?

What if? What if? What if?

Have you ever had those “what if” moments, but “went for it” anyway? If not, I encourage you to do so. You might receive a blessing when you do.

I decided I was going to go for broke and put myself out there, really me, really out there. No pretending. No posturing. No saying what I thought someone wanted me to say. Speaking from my heart. Speaking of hopes and dreams. Sharing. Authentically sharing.

It was no coincidence I was reading Dare to Lead by Brene’ Brown. Her book Daring Greatly had started me on this journey of vulnerability, overcoming shame, and being loved well like the Velveteen Rabbit whose fur was completely rubbed off. He looked a little scruffy, but he was so loved. That is me – emotionally scruffy, but so well loved.

I could be vulnerable and let my sister see my emotionally scruffy, yet well-loved side.

The day before our conversation was scheduled, I prayed. A lot.

I prayed God would help us connect with one another in spite of only one shared memory: the day we met, eating chicken under a white gazebo near the lake. Our brave moms orchestrated that meeting for us. Two different moms, same dad. Laura and I shared the fiery, feisty Bennett DNA. In the nature versus nurture scenario, I can attest to the nature part being true. From everything I’ve ever heard, there’s a whole lot of spunk coursing through our veins.

I prayed our video chat wouldn’t be weird and uncomfortable. It wasn’t. Because we were both brave and showed our real selves.

At one point Laura did the sweetest thing, she was extremely sensitive to how I would receive her sharing memories about our father with me. You see, she got the daddy I wanted and she knew that. She didn’t want to hurt me by sharing too much. She was daddy’s little girl until he passed. And, of course, I would have wanted that too. Of course, that is true. However, by the time Laura came along our father had six more years to mature from the time I was born. He was in a different place, and I’m very glad my sister has these sweet memories of him.

I’m glad my sister was brave enough to share them with me, because she gave me a gift: glimpses of him. He was sweet to her. He read with her. (I love to read too.) She shared his military picture with me, and for some reason, seeing him in uniform made me cry. Perhaps, it’s because he looked brave too.

God’s timing is everything. Perhaps, if I weren’t so grounded in the deep, immeasurable love for me I wouldn’t have been able to handle hearing those memories. But I am different today from that young girl who met her father’s family at his funeral. I am strong, emotionally strong, because God has strengthened me. His love filled (and fills) my need for love and acceptance.

Because of that, I could handle hearing Laura’s heart, her memories. Her courage to share them with me, coupled with her sensitivity in how she shared them, served to endear her to my heart.

God connected my heart to hers because she was so compassionate (among other things).

I was grateful Laura shared her true self. I explained to her I didn’t want her to have to sensor what she said. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be getting to know the real her. If I wanted to get to know my real sister, then I needed to give her “permission” to be her real self.

I want to know my sister. I want to hear about her life. I want to share with her about mine. That takes vulnerability. That takes risk. But love says, it’s worth it!

I could write for a long time about that first, lengthy video chat. There was so much joy in our conversation, I think for us both, even as we talked about difficult things at times. My heart felt rich and full to overflowing. Connection will do that.

God answered my prayer. He connected my heart to my sisters’, and it wasn’t weird one bit. There was a bond, not quite explainable, but evidenced during our engagement.

I wish she lived closer, but perhaps this feisty, fiery, 50 year old adventurous “Bennett girl” will have the perfect excuse to fly half way around the world and meet another feisty, fiery, 44 year old adventurous “Bennett girl”. If and when she does, this big sis will fling her arms around little sis and say, “It’s so good to see you!”

Because that’s what you do when you find your family.

Whether you grew up knowing your family your whole life, or you were adopted like me, how can you grow to learn more about who you are by understanding your family history?

Understanding our history helps us fulfill our destiny. There are lessons to learn, mistakes to avoid, and hopefully familial wisdom to draw upon that will help us become the best version of ourselves. I pray God helps you understand when the time is right. I pray He reveals what He wants you to learn about Him, yourself, and others. I pray you know as a child of God, you ARE a part of family─His! And He loves you beyond measure!!

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