Jamie Clary's Story


Jamie Clary's Story
by Jamie Clary

I was adopted. When I begin my presentations to Middle Tennesseans who are interested in adopting children through Bethany Christian Services, I start out by telling them, “I was adopted.” From there my talk goes through how my adoptive parents told me from the time that I was 11 days old that I was chosen. I tell them about my three sisters, my nieces, and my nephew and how full my life always has been.

Then I switch gears to tell future Bethany parents about my decision to find biological medical history. “The social worker called me at work and told me, ‘I have contacted your biological mother, and she has agreed to fill out the medical forms.’” I felt some relief, a little joy. The social worker added, “Your biological mother asked if she could contact you.” I was speechless, never having considered the possibility of talking to my birth mother. Asked point blank if the woman who gave birth to me 25 years earlier could contact me, I didn’t have a prepared answer. I paused to think. Then I heard myself say, “I owe her that.”

My biological mother and I traded letters, followed up with phone calls, and now make regular trips to see each other. While friends were adding children to their families, I was adding a parent. Also, I was taking on relatives.

In 2003, I received an e-mail from Bob Lawhon. The two of us had gone through a training program for future leaders of non-profit organizations. His mass e-mail asked if anybody was interested in serving on the local board of Bethany Christian Services. I thought for a second and realized, I owe them that.

During my first meeting I met the other members of the Bethany board. One was in the paperwork phase of adopting a Bethany baby. A unique situation developed during the meeting, and that board member was asked halfheartedly if she was ready to take a child home that night. The topic was re-visited sporadically during the meeting, got increasingly serious, and peaked with the board member calling home for her husband. Within a week, they were welcoming the newborn into their family.

I was scared to go to my next board meeting. Would I be next? I was willing to give but not prepared to take a child home. Nevertheless I attended board meetings regularly for a year. Once a month, I showed up, nodded my head a lot, and gave a few ideas. No babies were thrust upon me.

With new commitments, though, I headed into two years as the absentee board member. My attendance is surely the worst of any non-profit board member since the beginning of time. I still feel that I owe Bethany my resources. But the resources have changed.

I do not hide from my absenteeism and have invited Bob to replace me several times. This flaw is mentioned here because I want to give full disclosure of my involvement with Bethany. I am proud to help; I just don’t have a schedule that allows me to make it to many board meetings. So, whenever they ask for anything else, I do my best to step forward.

When the Bethany staff needed help moving a client soon after giving birth, I reasoned that God was calling me and my truck. When another client needed some furniture, God must have been calling my truck, and my couch. They needed a bed; I thought about giving my own bed until I found one at the local thrift store. I have solicited donations for a golf tournament, spoken to church groups, hooked up computer equipment, bought school supplies, moved file cabinets, and taken staff to lunch. I owe them that.

I admit that my giving—if eating lunch can be considered giving—is the high visibility type. Those who attend board meetings, balance financial statements, and write long-term plans should be praised for handling the mundane but necessary. They sit in an office and look at numbers. I’m seeing birth mothers, hearing stories from the staff, and talking to people about me. Who wouldn’t want to do this kind of work?

Possibly Tammy, our executive director, has figured out my personality well enough to understand my commitment as a volunteer. Missing board meetings increases my enthusiasm, and I have a hard time saying no. (Ask the ex-girlfriend about the stray cat.) I have a truck. I have a hard time sitting still. And I like to see people smile. Often something little from me provides something huge to somebody else.

Knowing their difficulties and seeing them smile make my little effort worth it.

When the day comes for my tenure on the board to end, I will accept it happily. That day will come when somebody steps forward with a better commitment to attend more often than I can attend and contribute more time than I have to give. I look forward to that day and am not fretting about my name being removed from the list of absentees.

I will still give my time like I do now. I owe them that.