What a Difference A Year Makes

As my children grew into teenagers it became very evident to me that the choices that they now would make were life-changing decisions that could affect the rest of their lives. These decisions could be positive ones but it was the decisions that could effect them negatively that I greatly feared. As new drivers they could drive to fast and have a wreck, they could be influenced by the wrong people, be in the wrong places at the wrong time or choose to do something in which they just thought they were too invincible to be affected. As a parent, we all know what can go wrong if you are not careful.


I would hold my breath every time they came to me and said, "Mom, I need to talk to you." I always dreaded this statement, fearing what made them NEED to talk with me. Teenagers don't NEED to talk to you unless they have a problem with a friend or a homework assignment or they just need money. But for that split second I always feared something worse until...




My daughter came to me the summer after her freshman year in college. "Mom, I need to talk with you.", was her request. As I often did, I asked, "Are you pregnant?" As usual, I held my breath until I heard, "NO!"...whew, okay now I can handle whatever you need. But this time my daughter looked at the ground and said very quietly..."yes". My heart stopped...did I hear her right, she said yes. It seemed like an eternity with all the questions that were racing through my head. What do I say? What will we do? How will I tell her father? The only thing I could say was a quiet "Oh, Poop!". Not really"poop" but a similar word that you probably could imagine that might be more appropriate if you had just received this news. I don't think my children have ever heard me say a bad word but that is all that would come out of my mouth...just two little words...why couldn't I have said something more loving or even prophetic, I don't know. But for that instant, poop was all I could think about because I feared the stuff was about to hit the fan. I then went to my daughter and hugged her. Feeling her sink in my arms, I held her and assured that everything would be okay and we will get through this together.

But my mind screamed....OKAY?!!!
How is everything going to be okay? My 19 year old daughter, MY BABY, is going to have a BABY! What will become of her life? What will become of her future? What about college, her plans, OUR plans? How are we going to handle this? What will others think of her? What will others think of us? Nothing in all the baby books ever tell you how to handle a moment like this much less what to do when your baby is going to have a baby. All the scriptures, all the Bible stories, NOTHING...nothing was popping in my head that was giving me a clue on how to handle this situation.


THIS SITUATION - like what was happening at this moment was just something we can fix with a bandaid or dig ourselves out of a shovel. THIS SITUATION was a baby growing in my baby! I had NEVER thought of any of my children or their conceptions as a SITUATION before. Why now? I was really scared!


Not only was my daughter pregnant but the child she was caring was bi-racial. Now, you can't think any worse of me than I am feeling at this moment. My words are going to sound VERY racial and so much like a bigot. I never thought of myself as a racist but having grown up in the south interracial relationships were not only UN-acceptable but they were looked down upon. Oh, you could have friends of different races, even go to church with people of different races BUT it was understood that you were never to marry someone of a different race. My thoughts went to my daughter again. Now, my daughter is not only pregnant but she is pregnant with an interracial baby. What will become of her? What will become of the baby? What will people say? What will my family and my in-laws say? Uh,OH...WHAT WILL HER FATHER SAY? Her father, oh-no, how are we going to ever tell her father that his little girl is pregnant with a interracial baby? This situation is not getting any better!


Luckily, my husband was at work and I had several hours to figure out what we were going to do to break this news to him. This was not going to be good. Different scenarios were running through my mind...will he shout and scream, will he raise his hand to his daughter, will he kick her out of his life, will he disown her and my grandbaby? WAIT!!! This baby is MY GRANDCHILD, MY flesh and blood, MY baby's baby, MY GRANDbaby! What do I do if my husband decides to disown our daughter? He could put me in a place to have to choose...to choose my daughter or him...to choose my grandchild or him? What do I do?


My motherly instinct kicks in. Moms fix things...we fix boo-boos and this is a big one! How is Mom going to fix this one?


For the next several hours I comfort and reassure my daughter that she is going to be ok..."Great mom, now you are lying to your own child!" How can she be okay, she is having a baby! I don't know what she is going to be faced with or what decisions she is going to have to make BUT I did know that our greatest immediate fear facing us was telling her father!


So, I decide that it is best that she leave our house and go back to her apartment and let ME tell her father. I know, I know. I know what you are thinking...she got herself into this, she should get herself out! But if there was one thing I did know was that when he found out about this it was not going to be good. I knew he was going to be SO angry and ever how he reacted to THIS SITUATION - his daughter being pregnant...pregnant with a black child...could result in life-changing exchanges of words and actions that may not only be unforgivable but at best be unforgettable - forging a wedge between, not only me and him, but most importantly him and his daughter and his grandchild. Our family was not ever going to be the same EVER again!


Tick, tock, tick, tock...why is it when you are dreading something REALLY bad that time ticks by SO SLOW?


Tick, tock. My husband arrives home. "God, please be with us!" was my silent plea but my strongest prayer! I ask him to sit down. The look on his face tells me he knows that what I have to talk to him about is not good. He shows genuine concern. Tick, tock. For that eternal instant, I look into my husband's eyes, the same eyes that I have looked into for over 25 years, the eyes that I fell in love with, the eyes that I looked for for strength and encouragement, the eyes that were a window into my husband's soul...into those eyes I was having to tell him something that was going to break his heart, that was going to hurt him and cut him all the way to the bone and was going to even challenge his soul. Tick, tock. "Our daughter is pregnant."


He looks at me and leaves and goes to the garage. Then it comes...a yell, a cry, a plea, however you want to describe it...he yells a cry to God, to All in heaven, straight up to God Almighty Himself,
"I CAN-NOT BE A GRANDFATHER TO A ....!!!"


Needless-to-say, the next several hours are filled with rage, tears, and fear. The next several months are filled with darkness and worry. Life kind of stops. You are in a hole and you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. You are sick with worry over what is going to happen to your child, your grandchild, your family. You go through a ray of emotions centered around shame. Sin had knocked on our family's door and sin got in and ransacked our home.


Looking back there were some beautiful moments while our daughter was pregnant. Our church was a wonderful support. I remember the first time our daughter drove up to the church - she called me from her car (I work there as the church secretary) and asked if she could/should come in because she saw other cars outside. Two sisters-in-Christ were there and opened there loving arms to our daughter. I don't think she would still be in the church today if they had not greeted her with the love and compassion that they did. Others, some we knew well and others we did not, told us that this was not the end of the world. One had lost his son to suicide, another had lost their child to a car accident...they told us to be thankful that we still could hug our daughter. Another couple had just been through the exact same thing one year before us - they invited my husband and I over and assured us that all would be okay once the baby got here. Our sisters-in-Christ even gave our daughter a baby shower and some offered hand-me-down clothes and furniture. Our immediate families were equally has supportive, not judging us, but supporting us. Our family had some tough moments but we were hanging in there the best way we knew how...by a thread of prayer.

One year later...it is a Sunday afternoon and we are all sitting around in the living room, watching this precious little baby coo and smile and kick his arms and legs. We watch his every move and wait for his next smile. He has become the center of our attention. He has brought so much love into our lives. We see the smallest things in a new light now. There are stuffed animals, toys and diapers all over the living room but we don't care. Papa walks over and picks his little buddy up and places him on his chest, pats his back and soon the two are sound asleep on the couch. My husband is sleeping with his grandson like he did so often with all our children. The sight brings me so much peace and I look at my daughter as she gazes at the two with a tear in her eye. I pray a silent prayer, "Thank you, God!" ~my Gardenia moment.

Beautiful!!!! What a difference a year makes.




You have heard the story of Noah. Noah built an ark, filled it with animals and then it rained for forty days and nights.

When I recently read this story again, what Noah must have been feeling really struck me. He had worked so hard to build this ark just as God had instructed. To follow God's plan and to do just the right thing. When God instructed, Noah went into the ark with his family and the animals. God shut the door and the rain came down. As the rain came down, he probably wondered, "What SITUATION have I gotten myself and my family into?" How dark it must have been inside the ark. The sounds outside may have been muffled but Noah knew what they were - people may have been hitting on the ark to let them in, the boat rocking against the waves and sounds of debris hitting the ark. I wonder if Noah was fearful of what was going on outside and did he worry of what was to become of the life as he knew it. Noah had to work with the animals inside the ark and at the same time probably had to deal with the concerns that his family were having about the situation. He probably even wondered what would become of his family and how would they be affected. Did Noah know how long it was going to rain? Did he know when and if they were going to get out? Did he feel trapped, worried, sick? Did he ever feel angry with the situation? Did he ever get impatient with his family members or with God? I could imagine life inside the ark stunk..stunk like...crap!


Whenever I think of the story of Noah's ark I had it in my mind that they were in the situation for only forty days and forty nights but this time as I read it I realized that Noah and his family were in that SITUATION for a little over a year. A whole year of having no control of what happen to him or his family. His total trust HAD to be in the LORD.


When Noah and his family were able to walk in the light again they were able to see the beautiful bright rainbow, a symbol of God's promise. That rainbow had to mean so much to Noah. A sign that the storm was over, his family was safe and all was good in the world. Noah and his family then praised God for getting them through the storm and out of the situation. Beautiful!!! Noah's Gardenia Moment!