Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is coming up on Sunday.  I remember when I was young I would think of my birth mom on Mother’s Day and wondered if she thought of me.

I was always thankful for my adoptive mom.  She was great and a wonderful mother.

It was refreshing and fulfilling after I found my birth mom. And every Mother’s Day was rewarding to celebrate with two moms.

The Special Chosen One

If you are an adoptee, have you felt alone in the world with no one to talk to; wondered how other adoptees deal with their emotions; or wondered WHY you were placed for adoption?

If you are a birthparent, have you ever wondered how your child might feel towards you; what their life was like growing up; or how you would react if they ever showed up on your doorstep?

If you are an adoptive parent, are you puzzled with how to deal with your child’s feelings towards adoption but don’t know what to say; thought about helping them search for their birth parents; or how you would handle the situation if they contacted their birth mom?

If you are someone who knows someone who is adopted, have you ever been curious what it was like to be adopted; you don’t know what to say to them about being adopted; or you don’t know how to support them if they are searching? If you answered yes to any of the above questions, then this book, The Special Chosen One, is for you.

Click above on ORDER BOOKS HERE.

I’m “stealing” this from another web site written by Karen Ehman.  I thought it has some good tips on how to get focused on God and just wanted to share it with everyone.

5 Ways to Sit at His Feet

Friday, February 28, 2014

If you have found your way here via my Proverbs 31 devotion, welcome! {And if you are new here, I’d love for you to connect with me on Facebook  or follow me on Twitter.}

If you haven’t read my devotion, Scurrying or Seated? click here to do so. {It is on distractions and to-do lists keeping us from connecting with God}

As mentioned in my devotion, here are 5 Ways to Sit at His Feet.

1. Give your to-do list to the Lord.

Sometimes it is so hard to hear the Lord’s voice through all of the hustle and bustle of our day. We stress and obsess about our to do list and all of our many appointments. The best way to focus in on our time with God {and to leave our to do list behind} is actually to take our to do list along with us! Get alone and get quiet. Ask God to bring to your mind all that you must get done. Make a list of these things. Then, spend time praying through each item on the list. As God brings more tasks to your mind, write them down. Don’t worry that it is unspiritual to stop halfway through a prayer and jot and item down. It helps you to clear your mind and then allows you to focus better on your time alone with God. He is concerned about all of the details of our life even if it is our plan to go grocery shopping or run to the dry cleaners.

2. Get intentional.

Treat your time alone with God as serious as any other appointment you have. When you have to go to the dentist, you brush your teeth and make sure you show up on time. Why do we assume our time alone with God will just happen spontaneously? Learn to treat it with intentionality. Write down the time you will spend with God in your planner or set an alarm on your phone. Have a plan for what you will read in the Bible or whether you will write in a journal or listen to worship music.

3. Read and write.

Get a hold of a good devotional book or Bible study workbook. Use them to help you know where to read in the Bible. But don’t just read the Bible. Write your thoughts down too. Keeping a journal–whether it is a paper one or a file on your computer or tablet—will help you grow your relationship with God. You will process as you write out your thoughts. Also learn to both read and write prayers. Read prayers in the book of Psalms out loud to God. Then, write out your own specific prayers to Him as well. It will amaze you when you go back later and see the ways that God answered your prayers.

4. Make a recording and memorize.

Use an online app or program such as Audacity to record yourself reading out loud any verses or passages of scripture you would like to memorize. Then, load them on an iPod, phone or MP3 player. Pop in the headphones and listen to the verses each day as you walk, do housework or cook dinner. It makes it so much easier to memorize this way!

5. Discover the Bible’s non-negotiables.

Grab a Bible and a notebook. Pick a New Testament book such as James or Colossians. Read it through stopping each time you see a non-negotiable command that we as Christians are supposed to do. When you come across one, write it down. For example:  James 1:19-21 says…

“My dearly loved brothers, understand this: Everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger, for man’s anger does not accomplish God’s righteousness.  Therefore, ridding yourselves of all moral filth and evil, humbly receive the implanted word, which is able to save you.”

So you would write in your notebook:

When dealing with others, I need to:

~ Be quick to listen

~ Be slow to speak

~ Be slow to get angry because being angry doesn’t accomplish the things of God.

I must also:

~ Get rid of that which is morally wrong and evil.

~ I need to spend time planting the word of God humbly in my heart. It will save me!

When we read the Bible, we learn. However, when we write out the commands in a way that is personal to us, we allow the word to take root deep within our hearts. This will help us the next time we are faced with a situation where we need to react in a godly manner but find it challenging. When we have trained our brain to recall the nonnegotiable’s of a Christian’s behavior, it allows us to act and react in a much better way.

Family Medical History

The following article was written by Lynne Miller and appeared on her web page.  When I was younger, before I found my birth family, the subject was frustrating.  Every time a doctor would ask, “What is your family medical history?”  I always sadly answered, “I don’t know.”

 

Medical History: Adoptees Fill in the Blanks

Every time we turn around, we hear about the importance of family medical history. Yet for adoptees, these facts are missing or at best incomplete.

A couple of recent  situations reminded me how little I know about my family medical history.

Leafing through Better Homes and Gardens on the subway, an article about heart disease caught my eye.

“When it comes to heart disease, what runs in your family matters—a lot,” the article began. “Studies show that if one of your parents had a heart attack or stroke, your own risk for these conditions can double, and having a brother or sister with the disease ups your chances of having a heart attack, too.”

I turned the page. Another article suggested talking to relatives about diseases that run in the family and then telling your doctor, who can use the information to recommend lifestyle  changes or screenings. “So grab a pen and paper and start interviewing Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, and everyone in between,” the article said.

Yeah, right. Like I can pick up the phone and get the scoop on family health conditions just like that. The writer is obviously not adopted.

On another day, sitting in an office in Manhattan, my doctor and I tried to calculate my lifetime risk of developing breast cancer. Lillian, my mother, died of breast cancer at the age of 48 and that’s why I made this appointment. I have no idea how old Lillian was when she was first diagnosed with the disease so I couldn’t answer my doctor’s question about age of onset. Hell, I didn’t know about my adoption until 11 years ago and didn’t know Lillian’s name until 2012. By the time I found out about her, Lillian had been gone for nearly 30 years.

I recalled hearing from a relative that Lillian had battled cancer for quite a while.  How long is quite a while? Let’s say my mother had the disease for seven years, I told my doctor.  She knew I was guessing and she wasn’t pleased. My doctor quizzed me about the other members of my family who had the disease. I don’t know, I don’t know, I said. My blood relatives are strangers to me.

I knew what my doctor was thinking: you should know your family history! I am adopted, I said, feeling compelled to defend my ignorance.

As we wrapped up our meeting, my doctor commented on how frustrating this lack of history must be for adopted people.

Yup, adoptees from the sealed records era run into these situations all the time. We don’t have family gossip stored in our memories because we never had a chance to talk with our biological kin. We can’t answer doctors’ questions with actual knowledge. We are clueless about our family histories.

In recent months, I’ve learned a few things about the health issues that run on my mother’s side of the family.  Lillian, in addition to breast cancer, struggled with alcohol and probably bipolar disorder. At least one of her brothers struggled with bipolar disorder, too. Lillian’s father, George, also had a drinking problem. My half-sister has diabetes and suffered a mild stroke some years ago.

What little I know about my mother and her relatives seems like a treasure chest of facts compared to what I have on my father and his family – absolutely nothing.

This problem is finally getting attention from the outside world. New Jersey lawmakers are considering legislation that would allow adoptees to gain access to their medical histories along with their original birth certificates.  I say it’s about time.

In the absence of information, I will do what I can to keep heart attacks, strokes and other bad stuff away.  Healthy genes, heart attack genes, mystery genes – whatever I inherited doesn’t have to dictate what’s going to strike me five, 10 or 20 years from now.

I try to take care of myself by making (mostly) healthy choices. Today I have a head cold. Part of me wants to take a nap, the other part of me thinks it’s time to get up, stretch my legs and have a glass of water with another shot of cold medicine.  It’s snowing and 27 degrees outside but a walk might do me good and get my mind off the things over which I have no control.

Loretta Lynn

Excerpt from my memoir, The Special Chosen One.  Available in paperback and eBook on Amazon.

 

“I rode with Aunt Ann and Uncle Hank to the Detroit airport. People everywhere. Mobs of people dashed  past me. Bumped my elbow. Brushed against my shoulder. A white Samsonite suitcase banged my knee.

What if my mom got here early and we missed her?

I searched faces in the swarming herd of strangers. We waited at the gate.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

“When is her plane gonna land?”

My aunt stretched her arm around my shoulder to comfort me.  “Let’s stand over here so we aren’t so near the door when she gets off the plane. I know my sister. She’s a very nervous person. Give her a chance to let it sink in when she sees you.”

I inspected my surroundings. No TV cameras, that I noticed. Maybe they’re hidden. My aunt might have been sneaky and called the TV station anyway. If I see anything resembling the media, I’ll spin and run. Blend in with the crowd.

My stomach heaved. I can’t let my parents discover what I’ve done.

I examined faces again. If I noticed a familiar face of someone who might know my parents, I’m out of here.

On guard. Be on guard.

“Flight 1706 now arriving from Los Angeles at Gate 36.”

Strange people exited and filed through the doorway.

Oh, my God. What if I don’t know who she is? That would be humiliating if I don’t recognize my own mother.

“Aunt Ann, will you tell me when she gets—”

“There she is, Susan. There’s your mother.”

I stiffened. Fixated upon the woman slumped against the doorway.

“Hank, go help her. She’s about to pass out.”

I should be the one to run to her side. I’m her daughter. She needs help. I can’t let her fall.

She’s going to faint. Oh, my God.

But I’m glued to the floor. I couldn’t do anything but stand and stare.

Loretta Lynn. She looked young and beautiful. She looked like Loretta Lynn, with long black hair pulled up into Grecian curls, which trailed over the shoulders of her light blue silk blouse.

Aunt Ann nudged my back with her hand and walked beside me towards my mother. I looked into the slate-blue eyes of the woman who gave birth to me. This is my mother.

Wendy has her eyes. Now we know.

 We grabbed one another and sobbed. Our grip enmeshed so tight, we couldn’t let go.

Trembling. Her body shivered as if we stood in below-zero weather in a snow blizzard.

 She leaned aside to look at my face. “You look more like him than you do me.”

Uncle Hank guided us to a chair. Every few seconds we’d pull away and look at each other.

Flesh and blood. Yes, we are related.

She hugged me and cried. I sat on her lap and cried. She rocked me. And rocked me. And rocked.

Okay. Now this is getting uncomfortable. I don’t like this. How can I pull away and stop this rocking without hurting her feelings?

Then I remembered Cheryl, the support group leader, when she explained to me what might happen.

“Don’t be surprised if she just wants to hold you. Remember, the last time she saw you was when she cradled you in her arms as a tiny newborn. In her mind, you haven’t grown up because the last image she has of you is a baby. Let her have this time of holding you, if that’s what she wants.”

My tension eased. I relaxed. No TV cameras buzzed. No newspaper reporters aimed and clicked cameras. None of my parents’ friends witnessed this reunion.

Only me and my mom. That’s all who existed at Gate 36 in the Detroit airport.”

Read the rest of the story in my memoir, The Special Chosen One, available at Amazon.com

New Year Resolutions

Now that we are in the second week of the New Year, I know we all make at least one New Year’s resolution. Some of them are reachable, but some we know will be harder to accomplish. I usually come up with off-the-wall ones.

Tell me what some your New Year resolutions are. Here’s a few of mine:

1. Learn to read, write and speak Hebrew. (Don’t ask me why.)

2. Learn more on my violin. (I’m tired of being stuck on Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star)

3. Lose 30 pounds. (Or maybe 20…..actually, to be honest, I’d be happy with 10)

4. Read through the Bible in a year Bible Study. (I’ve read through a couple times, but never a Bible study on the entire Bible)

I’d love to hear your comments on some of YOUR resolutions.

Have a very blessed day!

Equal Access to Adoptee’s Birth Certificate

Millions of adoptees across America have been denied a copy of their original Birth Certificate by an archaic law that has been in effect for the past 75 years. This law has created ANCESTRICIDE for millions of Adoptees which not only affect them, but their children and their children’s children. This is a disgrace in a free country that an adult individual cannot have access to their own Birth Certificate. Please support this petition and encourage your family and friends to do so.

SIGN THIS EXECUTIVE ORDER PETITION – Click anywhere in text to be directed to the petition web page.

Weathering God’s Winter Storm

My prayer for anyone living in the path of the winter storm, stay safe and warm.

I used to live in Michigan and Ohio, and I remember storms with heavy, wet snow, black ice, and bone-chilling cold wind.

Even though we now live in Florida, I still get shivers up my spine when I see pictures of snow blizzards, icicles, and downed power lines.

Just because we live in Florida, doesn’t mean I don’t think of you all.  Make that cup of hot chocolate, snuggle up underneath the afghan your grandmother crocheted, and think of it as God forcing you to take a day of rest to enjoy His beautiful weather!

Sandy Musser, Adoption Rights Activist

Sandy is a busy lady, active in changing the laws for adoption records. We need to support the cause, so that someday we all may be reunited with our birth families.

Visit her web site to see what she’s been up to. And while you’re there, check out the books she has published.

http://www.sandymusser.com

Send me your comments.

Happy New Year!

I want to wish everyone a very Happy and extremely Blessed New Year.  I pray that you and your families will build memories this year.  I pray that you will be comforted by any losses.  I pray that adoptees will be reunited with their birth families.  God bless you all!!

Adoptees Restoration Act

I’m re-posting this from Sandy Musser’s FaceBook page:

 

President Obama – How about a Christmas present for ALL ADOPTEES in our country!

A CALL FOR an ADOPTEES RESTORATION ACT

Adoption ALARM Network
Advocating Legislation for Adoption Reform Movement

We are ALARMED that ADOPTEES do not have a copy of their Original Birth Certificate!

We are ALARMED that ADOPTEES’ entire birth information has been altered, falsified and sealed for the past 75 years; thereby creating Legal Lies!

We are ALARMED that ADOPTEES do not have access to their Medical History, in light of 3000 known genetic diseases according to the National Center for Disease!

We are ALARMED that ADOPTEES are often given false and misleading information about their background by social workers, attorneys and other “helping professionals” in the field of adoption!

We are ALARMED that ADOPTEES are forced to pay agency fees to receive non-identifying information, state fees to be placed on a state registry; and attorney fees to petition the court system to receive what is already their inalienable right* – EQUAL ACCESS to their ORIGINAL BIRTH CERTIFICATE!

We are ALARMED that ADOPTEES, by virtue of the adoption process, have been stripped of their ENTIRE HERITAGE AND CULTURE causing a malady known as ANCESTRICIDE which also affects their children and their childrens children!

We are ALARMED that, in a free and democratic society, all ADOPTED PERSONS in our country are denied these basic human rights guaranteed to all other Americans under the 13th and 14th Amendments and the Declaration of Independence.

14th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution
No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any persons of life, liberty or due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

Declaration of Independence
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness – inalienable rights (cannot be transferred nor forfeited)

**************************************************************

Therefore, the Adoption Community calls for
an Executive Order
by the President of our United States for an

~ ADOPTEES RESTORATION ACT ~

Providing every Adult Adopted Person born within
the Jurisdiction of the U.S. of America
Equal Access to their
Original Birth Certificate

Based upon the 14th Amendment and the Declaration of Independence!

Winter in Florida

For all of you who are up north and getting your dose of winter cold and snow, you can send some of that cold down here to Florida!

Adoptee Christmas Cards

I remember back in 1978 after finding my birth mom, I couldn’t find an appropriate card to send her for Christmas.  They all talked about remembering past Christmases, how through the years we’ve shared so much, and on and on.  I couldn’t send any of those to my birth mom.

I’m hoping that today there might be some good greeting cards out there for adoptees, birth parents, and adoptive families.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Memoir of an Adoptee

Watch this video trailer of my newly published book

 

Adoptee’s Prayer

I just want to share An Adoptee’s Prayer, written by Jo Swanson, that was posted on the ALARM site on FaceBook.  I think it portrays how most adoptees feel:

Happy Thanksgiving

I pray that all the adoptees, birth parents, and adoptive families have a wonderfully blessed Thanksgiving today.

If you are still searching, hang in there. Keep going. Persevere. Your day will come when you will be reunited with your birth families.

Happy Thanksgiving.

An Adopted Woman’s Journey Back to Her Roots

First shipment just arrived.  So exciting.  Click on image to order yours today

The Move

Here is an excerpt from my book, The Special Chosen One:

“The possibility crossed my mind that maybe we were moving to get farther away from my birth mother.

Before we packed up and left, I searched for clues:

Instead of praying with my head bowed in church, I opened my eyes, raised them just enough to look around, spied on people to see if another woman looked at me—then I’d know she was my birth mother.

Standing around the corner of our kitchen, I eavesdropped when my mom talked on the phone—a whispered voice served as a sign she’s talking to my birth mother.

Riding in the car, if my mom slowed down as we passed a woman on the sidewalk, I promptly noted her physical features, because if she was short, with dark hair and dark eyes like me, and if she even slightly appeared like she was gifted with a high IQ, then she’s definitely my birth mother.”

Birth Mother Found

Exactly 35 years ago today I found my birth mother. I contacted my aunt first, which was the scariest, most rewarding phone call ever in my entire life.

i persevered through the obstacles of the adoption system and “sealed” records. I don’t regret for one minute all the time and effort I put into my search.

To my angels in Heaven, I love you Mom and Aunt Ann

The Special Chosen One

Published November 16, 2013.

NOW AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE on Amazon.  Click anywhere in text to be redirected to purchase site:

If you are an adoptee, have you felt alone in the world with no one to talk to; wondered how other adoptees deal with their emotions; or wondered WHY you were placed for adoption?

 If you are a birthparent, have you ever wondered how your child might feel towards you; what their life was like growing up; or how you would react if they ever showed up on your doorstep?

 If you are an adoptive parent, are you puzzled with how to deal with your child’s feelings towards adoption but don’t know what to say; thought about helping them search for their birth parents; or how you would handle the situation if they contacted their birth mom?

 If you are someone who knows someone who is adopted, have you ever been curious what it was like to be adopted; you don’t know what to say to them about being adopted; or you don’t know how to support them if they are searching?

 If you answered yes to any of the above questions, then this book,  The Special Chosen One, is for you.

 An adopted woman’s journey back to her roots. This memoir peers into the mind and emotions of an adoptee who wonders about her birth parents. The torment of being questioned by physicians as to your medical history, when all an adoptee can answer is, “I don’t know.” The eventual fear of hurting adoptive parents when deciding to search for birth parents. The difficult aspect of searching for records about yourself, but they are sealed forever.

 This book is helpful to all members of the adoption triad; the adoptee, adoptive parents and birth parents, or anyone thinking of adoption or in the process of adopting.

 This book brings forth the theme that adoptees are not alone. The author never knew another adoptee until age 24. Her self-imposed feelings of guilt were always associated with being adopted. What the author didn’t know until later in life is that other adoptees went through the same emotions.

 Also included is valuable information and suggestions for adoptees, birth parents and adoptive parents, tips for beginning a search, other books recommended for reading, helpful links, and reading group questions.

The Unforgettable Angel

Late on a coal-black, moonless night, my brother-in-law and I drove home. We spent a long, grueling day at the hospital with my husband in a coma. We noticed brake lights ahead. Both lanes blocked. Cars at a standstill. We were exhausted. All we envisioned was sleep.

“I wonder what happened,” I said. “I can’t see anything with no street lights. Maybe there was an accident.”

After sitting a few minutes, watching other people exit their cars, I reluctantly opened the car door. This is the last thing I needed tonight—something keeping me away from my comfortable bed.

I walked between cars. As I approached the open roadway, illuminated only by headlights, I witnessed teenage girls scattered across the highway in varying degrees of injury and pain; moaning, screaming and crying. I glanced at people standing around and astonished that no one was doing anything.

I didn’t want to get involved—I just needed to lie my head on my pillow. If I get involved, we’ll be delayed in getting home.

I repeated out loud, to no one in particular, “What happened?  Does anyone know what happened?”

I continued walking, tripping over and stepping around multiple pieces of debris: purses, school books, a bottle of cologne, papers, a single shoe, chunks of crumpled metal, a bottle of nail polish. The acrid smell of gasoline and burnt rubber hovered in the air, mixed with occasional whiffs of cologne.

An SUV overturned in the ditch—one tire slowly spinning—produced scant clouds of dust swirling in the air. The windows broken and shattered. The doors and mirrors swung haphazardly.

In my mind I prayed, Lord, help me. Being an EMT, I knew I needed to find the most severely injured girl. I maneuvered from girl to girl, each one sprawled on the ground in different locations. I noted their injuries were not life-threatening. I continually prayed, Lord, please help me find the worst one.

I almost missed the last girl lying in dark shadows off the roadway. I knew someone was there only because of the deathlike sounds of gurgling and suffocating. I barely discerned she was lying on her side with her back facing me. I briefly hesitated, fearful of what I would see when I looked into her face.

I knelt down next to her. I wondered if she’d even be able to hear my voice above the strangely loud gurgling and gasping sounds.

“Don’t move. I’m here to help you. Hold on, Honey. The ambulance will be here any minute. Don’t move.”

Her grunting and wailing escalated as she kicked and fought to move. I resorted to lying on top of her, using all my strength to hold her steady, despite her constant struggling and thrashing. Her petite body was wet and sticky with blood. The rough, grainy tar pebbles on the road gouged into my knees.

I adamantly hollered to the growing crowd, “When the ambulance gets here, send them over here. Tell them this is the worst one.”

As I prayed for this girl, I became aware of a voice next to me. Calm and soothing. Praying in the heavenly language of tongues. The surrounding area gradually became bathed in a luminous glow of hazy, white fog—even though no one had come any closer to us with lights.

I turned my head to the right. A man knelt next to me, his hands laid upon the girl. He persistently prayed. He’s dressed in all white clothing, from head to toes: a white baseball cap, white shirt, white trousers and white tennis shoes. My initial impression — he’s a painter. I thanked God for sending a Christian.

Somewhere in between praying and concentrating on keeping the girl from moving, I realized the man disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. I didn’t recollect him physically standing up and walking away.

The ambulance arrived and paramedics took over. Life Flight landed in the median of the highway. I watched as the girl was transferred into the helicopter. I stood in awe as it slowly lifted off the ground and floated into the sky. The headlights eerily shining brightly, reminded me of a similar scene out of the ET movie.

I needed to find the man in white and thank him for praying. I wanted to let him know I’m also a Christian and it comforted me to have another Christian by my side. I wandered around the multitude of people now gathered.

“Did you see the man dressed in all white? Where did he go? Did anybody see him? Where is he?”

“No, we didn’t see anyone like that.”

I eagerly scanned the crowd, looking for the man in white. “He was right there next to me with that girl. Where did he go?”

“There wasn’t anyone like that around here.”

Nowhere to be found. No one had seen him.

Weeks later, I learned the girl survived. She incurred multiple injuries, including a punctured lung. The paramedics said someone kept her from rolling onto her back, otherwise her lungs would have collapsed and she would have died.

# # #

I was exhausted that night. I honestly didn’t want to be bothered with helping anyone. I didn’t want to give up my time. I did not want to get involved. But God hurled me into a surreal setting. I could have stood by like others in the crowd, but He gave me the strength to confront a disastrous situation. I felt isolated, incompetent, with no one else helping.

I thank God for helping me remember my EMT training. I thank Him for guiding me to the most severely injured girl. But I thank Him specifically for sending one of His awesome angels, whom I will never forget.

Adoptee Book Release This Month

Be on the lookout for this book release

in November. 

We are almost there!

To Prison With Love for Adoption Reunions

Twenty years ago today one of our own went to prison for the “crime” of reuniting adoptees and birth families.  Sandy Musser is considered to be the civil rights pioneer for the adoptive rights movement. We should have been celebrating her efforts for reconnecting families.  But instead the government used their flagrant abuse of power, laced with lies, to carry out an indecent indictment.

Let us never forget those who have suffered in their efforts to bring reform to the discrimination of adoptees by sealing their birth records forever.

Read more about Sandy Musser on her web page  www.sandymusser.com

Adoption Detective

Judith Land lives in Colorado and Arizona with husband and coauthor Martin Land.  Judith is a former nurse, retail shop owner, college instructor and avid outdoor person.

Her book “Adoption Detective: Memoir of an Adopted Child” is a true story detailing the journey of Judith Romano, foster child and adoptee, as she discovers fragments of her background, and then sets out to solve the mystery as an adult.

“Mothers and fathers everywhere in the world need to understand children are forever and always.” –Judith Land

Check out her blog here —–>   Judith Land Blog

National Adoption Awareness Month

Next month, November, is the National Adoption Awareness Month.

A time to give thanks for the blessings of adoption.

There are two lasting bequests we can give our children:

One is roots,

The other is wings.

     – Hodding Carter –