I was an adopted child; my adoptive parents took me into...

I was an adopted child; my adoptive parents took me into their home when I was just three weeks old. I have always known I was adopted, for this fact was talked about freely among family and friends. While I was growing up, I was proud that I was a "chosen baby" and very happy with my family. However, as I approached my teens I began to wonder about my natural parents—where they were and the reasons surrounding their giving me up for adoption. Finally I felt unwanted, and I imagined that my present parents probably had gone to an adoption agency where they walked up and down rows of babies and picked me out like a puppy.

I was plagued with questions that seemed to have no answers. For five years I battled with the decision of whether to begin a search for my natural mother. Groups were springing up everywhere in an effort to reunite biological parents with their children. My adoptive mom and dad offered to help me in any way possible, if that was what I wanted. My interest in locating my natural mother was mainly to let her know that I had a wonderful life and was fine. However, I didn't want to jeopardize any new life she might be living—perhaps with a husband and children who knew nothing about me.

To many people I expressed this dilemma. Some said, "Yes, find her." Others said, "No, don't." I was tossed about on a sea of human opinions, none of which gave me a feeling of confidence. Yet I refused to pursue any course until I knew, through scientific prayer, that my decision was right. It became clear that human reasoning was not enough on which to base such an important decision. So I constantly sought divine guidance and prayed that I would be given an answer that would satisfy this longing to do the right thing.

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December 10, 1984

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