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In order to tell you what I have now, I have to tell you a little about who I am, and what my life was like before I had what I have.

    I was raised in a Christian home, and we were very faithful in our church attendance.  I went to a private Christian school called Pensacola Christian School in Pensacola Florida.  I knew all the right things to say, and all the right things to do, but I was still lost.
    I was in the 8th grade, when I realized that I was a sinner and in need of a Savior.  I gave my heart to Jesus and He put within me a new nature.  No longer could I sin and have the same feelings about it that I used to.  The battle had begun inside me for my loyalty.  Although sin still appealed to me, my desire was to follow after my creator, and to be more like Him.

  

However, this does not mean that I was perfect from then on.  I had many, many struggles, and made many, many wrong choices even after I became a child of God.  Some of those choices led me down paths that were displeasing to my Savior, but because of what I had done in the 8th grade, because Jesus gave me a new heart, He did not let me go.  He drew me back to Him, dusted me off, and set me back on the right path.
    Some of my choices left me standing in the middle of situations in which I doubted that good could ever come out of them, but my God is greater than any situation I could get myself into.  He turned some very dark things in my life around, and even got the glory out of them.  He is truly awesome, and remains my strength everyday as I go through life.
    One incident in particular that God has turned around for good, happened like this.  It was the day after my 21st birthday, and I was sitting in a pregnancy crisis center with a counselor named Bridget, and a positive pregnancy test in my trembling hands.  I was crying in a way that I have only cried a handful of times, from the depths of my soul.
    I was a good girl.  I was raised differently than this.  I knew better.  I was so fearful and confused, and felt I had no where to turn.  The relationship I had with the baby's father had always been a bit on and off, and as things go, we were much closer to "off" than "on" when this happened.
    My mother had moved to Maryland after the divorce, and I was living in Pensacola with my Dad and my brothers.  Always desiring to be Daddy's little girl, and striving so hard all my life to please him and make him proud of me, I wanted nothing more than to hide this from him.  I couldn't bare to see the disappointment in his eyes over what I had done.  After talking with my counselor for hours, I finally decided to tell him.  Surprisingly enough, he was generally supportive and didn't hit the roof like I had expected.
    However, telling the baby's father did not go over quite as well.  He was young and scared, as I was, but he wasn't carrying the child, so he could run and deny easier than I could.  Fearing that I would have less and less support as the pregnancy progressed, I decided that I needed to be with my mother. I made the trip to Maryland when I was five months along.
    I got a job the first week I was there, and started to map out somewhat of a future.  My employers insurance would not cover me because my pregnancy was considered a pre-existing condition upon employment.  That, and a few other contributing factors, added up to my deciding to give the baby up for adoption upon his or her birth.  I looked through the newspaper and picked out a couple for an open adoption.  We met several times, and even signed some preliminary paperwork.
    I tried as hard as I could to detach myself from this life that was growing inside of me.  But as the baby grew, I began to anticipate the tiny movements, and spent hours stroking my bare stomach, and wondering about the tiny hands and knees and elbows that were making all the commotion in there.
    Every night I would take out my journal and write to this little one things that I wanted him to know about me, and why I had to give him up.  Before I knew it, I was completely in love with this child, and a growing desire to make him mine had ignited deep inside me.  I knew that the odds of me giving him the kind of life that this couple I had chosen could, was very small.  I knew that I could not match them in anything that they could provide, except one thing.  I could love that baby more than anyone on this earth could, of that I was sure.
    On Labor Day weekend 1991, I took refuge at my grandmother's house to think and pray, and seek God for the desire of my heart.  Kneeling at her couch on that Saturday morning, I poured my heart out.  Through hot tears running down my cheeks, I begged for God's provision.  I begged to know His will.  I begged for strength, and I begged for my baby.
    My grandparents enjoy listening to Charles Stanley, and had quite a library of his sermons on video.  I grabbed one on "faith" and sat down on the couch to watch it.  It spoke directly to my heart, and I felt as if God was telling me so plainly that everything would be all right.  Pastor Stanley taught from Zechariah 4:5-7 about a mountain becoming flat through faith.  My mountain was single parenthood, but I knew that God would make it flat for me if I had enough faith.  In that instant, I made my decision.  I would be calling the lawyers first thing on Tuesday morning.
    Little did I know, but God had been working on more hearts than just mine.  My employer had been very concerned about me, and the fact that I had chosen adoption.  He sensed that it was not what I really wanted to do, and decided to do what he could to help.  Without my knowlege, he had been searching for an insurance company that would cover the rest of my pregnancy and the delivery of my child.  He found one over Labor Day weekend.
  When I walked into my place of employment that Tuesday after telling the lawyers about my change of heart, and was approached by my employer with the offer of health insurance, I knew how big my God was.
    God didn't leave me alone.  He knew I would need understanding and support, so he provided another single mother, who was due the same month as I was, to come along side me and become one of my closest friends to this day.
    My son was born on November 18,1991, a healthy 6 pound 4 ounce, beautiful boy.  I named him Zachary (from Zechariah) to remind me of what happens when I put my faith in God.
    God provided a higher paying job, and my son and I were able to move into a townhouse with a friend.  It was not easy being on my own and playing the role of both mom and dad.  There were many weeks when I didn't have two nickels to rub together what with daycare, car payments, insurance, rent and groceries.  I am still amazed at how I even made it through some of those months, but like I said before, I serve a really big God, and he promised to take care of my needs. 
   

    I learned a lot during this time.  I learned what it meant to work very hard, and I learned how to be unselfish.  I learned what it was like to love someone so deeply that you would give up life, as you know it to be, for them. I learned to smile, and look on the positive side of things even when I had had 45 minutes of sleep the night before, and a full day of work ahead.   I learned what it felt like to be alone and afraid.  I learned what it was like to have to choose between gas for my car and baby food. I learned to be strong, yet soft enough to rock to sleep a restless baby; proud of myself, yet humble enough to accept a bag of groceries offered by a concerned friend; independent, yet able to discern when I needed help.  Most of all I learned that my God is faithful, and that He would complete the good work that He had begun in me.
    In time, God mended my relationship with the baby's father, and we were married shortly before Zachary's first birthday.  We have since been blessed with two other children.
    Zachary will be eight this month and every year on his birthday, I try to find some time alone.  It is such a sensitive time for me because it was the day that my life changed forever.  It was the day that God entrusted to me the coveted role of mother.  It was the day that God gave me a flesh and blood reminder of how much He loves and cares for me.  A reminder that He keeps his promises, and that He is truly trust worthy and faithful, even when we are not.
   If you are a child of God and you find yourself struggling with a particularly discouraging situation, or if you are feeling defeated, let me encourage you with these precious words from Jeremiah 29:11.  "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."