It was August 9th, 1985.
I've been through so much! A positive pregnancy test. A broken engagement. Locks changed on one house. Moved back to my mother's house. Locks changed on me again. All because I wouldn't do what others wanted me to do. That's control with a capital "C."
Everyone had their opinion about, not only my life, but the life I was carrying inside of me. When I say, "everyone," I. mean. everyone! From strangers to the people closest to me. I was treated as if I had no say so in my own life. I was treated like garbage until a beautiful substitute professor came into my life and changed everything.
"Allyson, follow me home." The only thing was - the car I'd been living in for the past three weeks didn't have any gasoline. I'd run out trying to keep warm.
I was freezing. I was hungry. I was alone. I was homeless. I was pregnant.
The man asking me to follow him home had gifted me, "Think and Grow Rich" by Napoleon Hill just weeks prior to my world falling apart. That book changed my life. It gave me the doorway to believing - knowing - that we can build anything in our brain first - and then it becomes a reality.
Living in my car - feeling like I was at the end of my rope - I would picture being warm, fed, safe, loved, clean...peeing on a toilet again. Just the little things we all take for granted.
So...I would close my eyes and think, "Somebody somewhere loves me enough to care about helping me. Someone wants to see me thrive. Someone wants to help me. I can feel the warm blanket on me. I can feel the food in my stomach. I can feel the warm bed. I can feel the clean clothes on my body." I believed it. I had evidence because, after all, I hadn't been homeless my entire life. I even went so far as to picture little flowers on draperies in my new bedroom.
Then, it all happened. The same professor who'd given me the book was the same person who knocked on my window. His wife was home waiting for us. She had soup ready for me, hot tea, a plush robe, and a guest room with little flowers on the draperies.
Then, that led to me living with another family, and then finally with the host family who was amazing and loving. I felt like I had solid ground underneath me for the first time in a very long time.
Then, August 7th arrived and I was in labor for two long days. At last, on August 9th, I held my son. While he and I would only be together for three days, and while I anguished over signing the adoption papers, I heard a voice say, "If you sign the papers, you'll see him again." So, I believed, as I'd believed throughout the entire journey that God had me. I signed the papers and passed out with anguish. The right thing for our path is not always the easy thing. I had to be medicated leaving the hospital so as not to upset the other patients. Before the medicine, I was wailing in a way I've never cried since. My heart was literally broken. Yet, I knew I was doing the right thing.
Twenty-four years later, at 3:30 a.m., I woke up with that same voice I'd heard years before, "If you sign the adoption papers, you'll see him again," except this time I heard, "Allyson, it's time." I knew exactly what it meant.
The next morning, as soon as the agency opened, I called. It was a long conversation of "This is going to take years," to "You may never connect with him, prepare yourself." It was a closed adoption, so he knew very little about me and I knew almost nothing about him.
A day later, the agency received two faxes minutes apart. One page read, "When is your birthday? August 9th." The other, "When was your son born? August 9th" The woman stood staring at the pages only to realize that a son and his birth-mother had faxed their requests to find each other at the exact same time.
You see, God has us. Our job is to listen. Our job is to stay connected to Source. Our job is to know that our lives have deeper meaning than our outside circumstances. Our job is to love ourselves - deeply - and if we don't, to figure out how and fast. Our job is to understand that we are born - not for one reason - but for many. Our job is to not only love with a broken, open heart but to make that love turn inward first so that we can fix what's not working. Only then can we express ourselves truly, authentically, and in the deepest service to mankind.
I’m so thankful that my son chose me to love him completely and from a distance. I’m so thankful he chose me so that I could heal and learn what love really is, and in turn, share that with you.
If you are hurting…
If you struggle to love yourself…
If you find that you keep repeating patterns…
If you find that you lack spiritual practice…
If you find that you feel lost…
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