Yesterday I posted an article in our Facebook group about a Native who had his heritage questioned both by non-natives and Natives as they grew up, and the toll it took on him.
A good friend in the group shared this with me:
The article you just posted... I wanted to comment but I don't even know what to say. My insides are screaming and weeping.My friend's grandfather was adopted and most likely had Native heritage. No doubt he felt just like my friend described:
I feel my spirit is screaming like a devastated child who is crying their heart out. Like a child who lost their family and is alone in a field...
I'm okay, I just didn't expect that. Pain is part of our journey but walking through it is part of the healing and He does make beauty out of broken. The article was both heartbreaking and healing.
The picture of the child screaming...was a little boy, perhaps my grandfather. But it felt like a part of me too.
"Like a child who lost their family and is alone in a field."
That hit me.
Not personally, but I could feel their pain— the pain of that grandfather, which passed down through the generations to my friend.
I've often wished there was something I could do to help my friend find their tribe— point to some records department, some new change in law that allowed family to see adoption records, or just hoped the Spirit would tell me and resonate in my friend which tribe they're from.
I know a little of the pain and agony of not knowing things about my ancestors and hitting a brick wall with my ancestry search. But this—adoption—is a much harder wall to break through. I continue to pray for a miracle.
I know as my friend said that the Healer let this pain out for healing, and surely He will bring it.
Until then we groan...