Psalm 69:4

It says, “I have been forced to restore what I did not steal.”

I came across this verse in church on Sunday, and it speaks to my search.  I did not steal my history from myself.  It was stolen, sealed, locked away, only to be seen by social workers–even 24ish year old social workers’ eyes were privy.

I came to a place (triggered/inspired by adopting our own little girl from Haiti) where I wanted to restore what had been stolen–knowledge of my complete identity.

I know who I am in my family–my adoptive family.  I don’t have to research and dig to define myself within that family.  And, my ancestry is only a few questions away in that family.  I can just ask my aunts and uncles questions about whatever I want.  We talk.  I love them.

But my birth family is a completely different matter . . . if I want to restore what has been taken/hidden from me, I must fight tooth and nail as most of them still choose to deny me.   I am thankful for the internet, and for the sweet sweet birthfamily members who have opened their hearts to me and consider me family.  We can talk, and we do a little.  I love them.