For many years after they married, they could not have children. My mother still describes that time as one of the darkest and most alienating of her life. Not simply because nothing ever fills the void, the longing to hold your own, but because some of my father’s family were unrelenting in their critique of her soul.
From being called ‘barren’ to ‘cursed’ to ‘unworthy’ to bear my father’s name, my mother was publicly shamed, ridiculed and ostracised. It resulted in the kind of agony that kept her knocking on heaven’s door for relief. God was silent.
It was in this season that my father covered her.
When demands came for him to discard her for another wife, he made a choice. He chose us, the biological children that he did not yet have, because he knew what he knew- that we would each be carried in her womb.
And so he protected her, assuring her of the beauty that would one day be exchanged for ashes. My mother will tell you that those words healed her and were the anchor to her soul.
And so it was. Not only did they have four biological children, they adopted four more and raised millions of others who are changing the world. In fact, if you’re reading this, chances are that you consider yourself one of their children too.
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