I couldn’t say anything at first. I simply looked into his adoring eyes, brimming with tenderness, and my eyes began to fill with tears as well. I knew in my heart this was not something Jim had said lightly or on the spur of the moment; it was something he must have thought about a great deal. God had given me a man whose unconditional love for me was almost beyond my comprehension, and his desire to make such a sacrificial gift—to become a father again at the age of sixty and to raise a child that would not even be his biologically—overwhelmed me for a few moments.

“We couldn’t adopt a baby right now,” Jim said, “But we won’t always be on the road. Things are going to settle down soon, and when they do, you can have a little buddy.”

We talked about how much fun I would have dressing up a little girl and taking her places with me and doing things together. “But I know longer need a baby to fill me,” I said. “ My life has been filled with children—my nieces and nephew; my namesake, Little Lori; my “girls,” who are like my own daughters.  Then there’s Armondo, who will always be my foster son. And especially your two children, whom I adore.  I even have two grandkids now!”

But I still longed for a child of my own.

When I reflect on my past, I realize that the number one thing satan tried to rob me of was family and children of my own.

He shouldn’t have done that.

Motherhood – Part 1
Motherhood – Part 2
Motherhood – Part 3
Motherhood – Part 4
Motherhood – Part 6
Motherhood – Part 7