by Natasha Perryman as told on the Story Partners Podcast
There are times when the anxiety is crippling, and you are dog paddling just to stay above the water. But every time, God is there.
The Latchkey Kid
My name is Natasha Perryman. I’m an only child, primarily raised by a single mom, and I have a great relationship with my dad. He’s wonderful. He’s caring. He’s attentive. He’s amazing, but he also always lived in a different state. He never lived in my home in any memory that I have. And through living with other men at different times—other stepdads—there was just no male consistency.
Between the ages of 10 and 12, I had three different circumstances where three different people tried to kidnap me. We lived in an apartment complex, and on the very backside, where no one would really be driving around, a car ended up coming through while I was checking the mail. I’m 10, and I’m on my way to gymnastics. I was in a full-body leotard, and there was a guy in the car. He was like, ‘Hey, come here.’ I couldn’t get away because the car was literally a foot from me; he pulled up right next to me.
When I looked in to see him, he was completely in a black cloud. I didn’t understand it at the time because I was only 10 years old, but I remember thinking, ‘I can’t see this guy.’ It was so demonic that he had a black cloud over him. He had all this candy lined up in the car, and he was like, ‘Look, I have Twix, I have Reese’s Pieces, whatever you want, just reach in and get it.’ I know that if I reached in, he was going to grab my arm and pull me in. I just took off running.
I was a latchkey kid, and there was no one at home. I remember I ran home, slammed the door, locked it, and ran up to my room. I was by myself. It was very, very traumatic, and it re-emphasized that if you’re alone, or if you’re in a place and there’s no one there to protect you, you could literally get kidnapped. That happened three different times. Those were pivotal things that really put deep grooves in my brain about the fears of being alone, being taken, being lost, or being kidnapped.
Finding Faith, Meeting Adam
I knew about Jesus mainly through my grandparents, my mother’s parents. We would visit them and go to a sweet Southern Baptist church. That’s where the seeds were planted, but my interaction with Jesus first began when I went to college. My roommate and the two girls next to me loved Jesus. They were waiting for their missionary husbands and wanted to go on mission trips. One of the girls just said, ‘You straight up need to get saved.’ And so, I did. They shared the gospel with me. The Word of God is true; it’s alive and active. It was instantaneous. Instantly, I accepted Christ. Instantly, I knew every single thing was true. I devoured the Word and went on mission trips that very year. My life changed completely in 1997. Old was gone; the new had come.
Adam grew up in a Christian family. After being friends for two years, I started to flirt with him. He was like, ‘No, we are just friends.’ Not long after that, he came back and said, ‘The main thing is I hadn’t prayed about it. Now I’ve prayed about it, and the thing is, I’m not going to date you for fun. I would be dating you to marry you.’ That was really scary. I was like, ‘I’m not so sure about that.’
We dated for two more years. I tried to break up with him three times because it was too much. I hadn’t had a Christian relationship, and trying to do everything right was just a lot. I had a lot of childhood trauma and things that got brought up when I was trying to be so ‘holy.’ I said, ‘No, I’m breaking up with you,’ and he said, ‘No, I think you just need counseling.’ God showed me His faithfulness long before we got married; no matter how hard I pushed, he was going to be there. We got married in 2001.
Early Marriage
He had a very peaceful childhood, and I had had a lot of trauma. With my parents, I had been through multiple divorces, lots of moves, and attempted kidnappings. The second I was safe with this person, it was like, ‘Here it all is!’ He never said, ‘Whoa, you’re too much for me.’ Our marriage has always been him being super steady and me working on managing my emotions, my anxiety, and my trauma. He has done an amazing job of learning how to care for a highly sensitive person. He was calm, and I wasn’t.
I notice everything—every sound, everything going on in the room. My sensitivities, my anxiety, full-on fear, fight-or-flight, amygdala overload—the whole thing is happening. I try to remind myself when I’m feeling overwhelmed that I need to walk in the truth. It doesn’t come naturally. I have to cling to the Word of God like no other. Taking every thought captive is a daily chore. I needed a fierce, sound person who was never going to leave. When we said, ‘I promise never to divorce you,’ he was saying, ‘I will not leave you.’ I had no idea then what was coming.
The Fight for Adoption
When we were first married, Adam was doing accounting software, and I was teaching art. After five years, we started thinking about growing our family. We thought we’d just get pregnant, but it didn’t happen. It was a disappointment. As a teacher, I remember looking at my classroom thinking, ‘I wonder if I could parent any child in this room? Would I be able to bond and love them as my own?’ The answer ultimately was yes. God was stirring a different way to grow our family.
We didn’t know we were about to be in for the fight of our lives. We didn’t know we were going to have four failed adoptions, followed by years of adoption processes for three different kids. We picked Kazakhstan first. We were in that process for eight months until Kazakhstan shut its doors. That was a loss. Our social worker came to our house; she was very compassionate. She sat at our kitchen table with pieces of paper that said ‘Haiti, India, China, Vietnam.’ As she said, ‘Vietnam,’ immediately God said, ‘You have a daughter in Vietnam.’ I didn’t say anything. She walked out.
I looked at Adam and said, ‘What are we going to do?’
He said, ‘We have a daughter in Vietnam.’
I said, ‘I know! God said the same thing to me!’
Once we started the process in Vietnam, we had three referrals in a row fail. The first was a paperwork error. The second, the child got sick and was pulled. The third was a boy, and God said to say no. He had told us we had a girl. We were like, ‘But it’s a child! Maybe we got it wrong.’ We didn’t get it wrong. Because of those failed adoptions pushing our paperwork along, we were able to travel and get there by the time she was five months old. It was a miracle she was that young, but she was lying on a board and had significant physical delays. Her physical therapist said if she hadn’t come home when she did, she wouldn’t have been able to walk. God showed us those failed adoptions sped us up to get to her when she needed us most.
The Dream of Nehemiah
The enemy would shoot arrows of lies: ‘You won’t be a good parent,’ or ‘You can only handle one child.’ It was a battle, pulling those lies out and breaking them in Jesus’ name. I remember crawling into her crib before she arrived, praying and saying, ‘She’s coming.’
We waited six months and started again in Vietnam. We assumed we would have another child from there. A year in, the agency said, ‘Vietnam is closing in four weeks. You are number five on the list; there’s no way you’ll get a referral.’ We started to switch countries when a miracle happened. I had a dream where God said, ‘No, you have a son in Vietnam, and he’s born in Kon Tum Province.’ Super specific.
At that same time, a little boy came into the baby’s home. The four families in front of us all passed. One wanted a sibling group; one wanted an older child; one wanted a child in a wheelchair; one was waiting for a daughter. They called us and said, ‘We can’t believe it, but all four families passed.’ We asked, ‘Is it a boy, and was he born in Kon Tum Province?’ They said yes. We said, ‘It’s our son. His name is Nehemiah.’ We were one of the last families to submit everything before the country closed. It took an extra ten months of DNA testing and locating his birth mother, but we finally became a family.
Foster Care
We came home with two kiddos. Pretty quickly, God started working on our hearts about an older daughter through foster care. He said, ‘You have a multiracial older daughter stuck in foster care waiting.’ We matched with a 12-year-old named Carrington. She lived with us for 18 months until she was old enough to consent to her own adoption.
We then became emergency placement parents for two years. We had 20 kids through our home. We would love on them, shower them, and feed them—some for one night, some for months. We thought God was tying a bow on our family, but it was time to focus on missions. We assumed Vietnam, but every door was closed. I was putting my hair in a ponytail, and God said, ‘Do you want more of Vietnam, or do you want more of me? You decide.’
The trajectory changed. We moved to Uganda in 2014. We loved the people, the culture, the weather. We were there when Carrington turned 18 and helped her return to Oklahoma. After four years, God’s cloud moved. He moved us far north—to Moscow, Russia.
The Pandemic
Russia was our favorite job. I was the elementary principal; Adam ran the business office. We think God allowed us to love it so hard because He knew it would be brief. In February 2020, we heard about ‘community pneumonia.’ By March 1st, we were sent home for two weeks, which turned into 12 weeks of ‘house arrest.’ Adam was the only one who could leave twice a week with a QR code, mask, and gloves.
In June, we booked the last flight out and went to Oklahoma for 60 days. We had no idea we wouldn’t return. Russia would not renew our visas. They were kicking out hundreds of thousands of expats. By January 2021, we were released from our contracts. We never got to say goodbye. We didn’t get our things. We were stuck in Oklahoma. Our daughter Avie Joy was the first to say, ‘I want to start high school in one place. Let’s look so we can move.’ We prayed, and Germany came on the radar. We moved here in July 2021.
I wouldn’t recommend moving during a pandemic. Everything was shut down. There was an extreme regime of rules that changed every day. People worshipped it: ‘Where can I walk? How many vaccinated people can I speak to?’ It was insanity. We didn’t have friends; every activity was canceled. It was just survival. After that first year, we thought about throwing in the towel.
Finding Spiritual Freedom
Mental health is a journey. There are times when the anxiety is crippling, and you are dog paddling just to stay above the water. But every time, God is there. What He taught me that first year in Germany was that He doesn’t require a pass or a vaccination to come to His throne room. I could boldly go into the throne room of grace without any hindrances, even though the world had so many rules. My freedom in Christ grew while I was physically restrained.
I can lean into Adam easily now, but Jesus is still wooing me to choose Him. Adam is a pillar, but he’s a representation of Jesus being my ultimate safe tower. In Christ, all my safety and peace are found. My life has been a fight for peace, but He will never leave me.
For our future, my heart is to support my kids into young adulthood. We have back-to-back seniors. How will we serve as empty nesters? Will we finally serve in Vietnam? I don’t know. We’re excited for the next season. He’s fully in charge. We have submitted our lives to Him, and it has been better than we could ever have imagined.
