Guest Author Post: Praying Through Your Adoption by Michele Scott

We are blessed to have Michele Scott share her heart on the role of prayer in adoption and how her book, Praying Through Your Adoption came to be. This book is a treasure for those seeking to adopt and those encouraging others going through adoption. I have a copy of the book to give away. Post a comment and I'll select a recipient to receive the book in the mail. It will be a blessing. 

Michele, what can you tell us about yourself, your childhood, and the present?

I grew up as an only child in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Faith was a vital part of our family life, so I believed in God from an early age. About mid-way through college, after heartaches and some poor decisions, I decided to trust Jesus and the plans He has for my life. I graduated, moved to the suburbs, and married my husband, Eric. I worked in the corporate world and Christian ministry before becoming a work-at-home mom through adoption. 


When did you first realize you wanted to become a writer? 

I started writing poems and stories for fun as a child. I even had a poem published in Highlights for Children. Through high school and college I enjoyed researching and writing papers, but I never considered becoming a professional writer until I wrote Praying Through Your Adoption. 

What inspired you to write Praying Through Your Adoption?

Author: Michele C. Scott

I've been talking to God in prayer for as long as I can remember. I turned to prayer during our infertility, and I had planned to pray through a pregnancy if that had been God's plan. While adopting our 

son from Russia, we experienced painful delays and obstacles, such as increased fees and additional paperwork. At a particularly low point in the adoption process, I participated in an online prayer vigil that directed me to pray for very specific aspects of adoption – from government officials to waiting children. I realized the power of prayer specifically in adoption and saw the need to help other families pray through their adoptions as well. 

Unraveled

Do you have that favorite something that you collect? I rifle through the back rooms of resale and antique shops for needlepoint pillows. Don't ask me why I'm drawn to rugs and pictures and pillows created stitch by time-consuming stitch.

I don't know. I've collected many beautiful treasures over the years. I trade them out with the seasons around my house. I have these works of art with angels, bunnies, collies and flowers on them. 

Sometimes I sit and ponder all of the time that went into them. I wonder what the woman's life was like as she sat and created the beauty I now enjoy. 

I know the time it took. I used to spend hours making birth announcements or anniversary stitchings to give away. I don't seem to find the time anymore. 

Whenever I gave stitched items away I hoped nobody would look at the backside. Have you even looked at the back of a needlepoint canvas? 

It's hard to believe that mess can be so beautiful on the front. My stitchery usually had bumpy knots, unraveling frayed ends and single threads reaching inches across the backside to make just those last few stitches in the same color. I wanted the front to look just right and "together". 

Looks kinda like my life feels sometimes—unraveled. 

I dash about driving my kids, throwing dinner on the table, rewashing the mildewed laundry that I forgot in the washer. Will that plant I neglected revive when I remember to water it?

I sit in my chair, the favorite one. I grab up my One Year Bible that I'm having so much fun reading and marking—only it is taking a year, seven months and counting. The Word washes over me and I am still.  
My life seems unraveled at times but as I sit silently in His presence I know His heart toward me. I am fully accepted by Him when I come and offer up my mess. I don't have to pretend and hope He doesn't look at the underside with all of the frazzled ends. 

Thank you, Father, that I don't have to pretend or hide from You. Nothing can separate me from your love...not messiness, not burned meals, not mildewed laundry, extra pounds or wilted plants. I love you, Lord. 





THE WEAVER

My life is but a weaving between my Lord and me,
I cannot choose the colors He worketh steadily.

Oft times He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride
forget He sees the upper but I the under side.

Not till the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly,
shall God unroll the canvas and explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needed in the Weaver's skillful hand,
as threads of gold and silver in the pattern life has planned.

Benjamin Malachi Franklin (1882-1965)

Hound of Heaven?

God has been referred to as the Hound of Heaven in a poem by English poet, Francis Thompson. That phrase made the poet famous. 

The name Hound of Heaven is odd and frightening at first. It makes me think of the mysterious creature on the moors of England in Conan Doyle's Sherlock tale, The Hound of the Baskervilles. Spooky!!

I have a better story of a hound—one from my own home. We had an amazing sheltie early in our marriage that showed me the power of the dog's ability to track and find that which is lost. 

Dogs have a tough time moving to a new home. They are territorial and they get downright confused with the new smells and the new area to protect. 

Our sheltie was trying his best to do his dog-thing when we moved across the country. We drove into our new hometown late in the evening but our furniture had not arrived.  Instead of moving into our new house, we stayed at a friend's home. 

We tied our dog to a long line outdoors for the evening. Two days later we put him in the car and drove 7 blocks to our new home. Double confusion set in. 

At the new home, he had an entire new backyard to explore and make his own.  Day three in the new home, the gate to our backyard was left open and he disappeared. I panicked.

Would we be able to find our pet in this new town? Surely he couldn't find his way home on his own. 

I called the home of our friends where we had stayed for two nights. My daughter had spent the night with their daughter and I suggested they walk in the neighborhood and look for our lost pet.

No need! When my friend walked back to her daughter's bedroom she heard barking from outside the window. Not only had our dog found his way seven blocks to their home BUT he also found the window of the room where my daughter was staying. He ran in circles outside barking to get her attention. 

Finding this hound was indeed heavenly. 

The poet Francis Thompson never meant anything scary by describing God as the Hound of Heaven. He only referred to God's steadfast pursuit of His own children when they stray from His presence. 

In Luke, Jesus tells the parable of the woman who searches for the lost coin and the shepherd who leaves 99 sheep to seek out that one lost sheep. He searches for His own and doesn't quit until they are back in His arms. 


If you are feeling lost or distant from God, I know He is pursuing you. He is relentless and steadfast in His desire to have you in His arms again.