One of my most favoritest heroes is my daughter. One of the things that bonds people together is overcoming obstacles as a team. We did that. I did the talkin'. She did the doing. So everytime I see a baby girl or grandgirl come into TBN land there's a part of me that wishes the father the same kind of closeness with his daughter that I have with mine. She's taught me so much. And I love her dearly. Nine years ago at seventeen she had a beautiful baby girl. It was adopted out. The story is about that and some things that's happened since. It's an emotional story. But then all stories about parents and children usually are. Here's the story. The reason for writing this was pure selfishness on my part. I poured my guts out to a stranger, Tim Rogers, on the condition that he'd misplaced his reporter's hat. The reasons for having it published is I believe it gives a very personal and private subject another public perspective. One that isn't expressed very often. Nine years plus after the event I look around and still feel we did the right thing. My daughter's paid the highest price emotionally. She's doing fine. She comes from good stock. Her great grandmother during the depression was camped out on in a wagon and a tent just outside of a small town in Northern Arizona. The older boys and her husband were miles away working in a mine. It was just her the kids. Some of the older kids in town thought they'd have some fun messing with family camped out along the river. So they decided to scare them by making a bunch of noise one night. There was gunfire. The next day at school a couple of the older kids showed up with some extra shotgun pellets they'd picked up in a hunting accident. I strongly suspect that same kind of tool grade steel runs in my daughter's veins. I'm a lucky man to have known such a grandma and have such a daughter. We were only with the adoptive parents a couple of times. But I'd bet they're the kind that will explain things to their daughter in such a way that she'll be accepting and appreciative of her birth mother. My philosophy on living a life successfully is when the big picture is overwhelming we concentrate on the details. And at those times when the details are overwhelming we need to step back and look at the big picture. This situation more than just about any other has had me going back and forth between the big picture and being in the middle of the photograph. The big picture involves a little girl wondering about herself and where she belongs and reading the story. And developing the position that she was given her opportunity because she was so loved, not because she was unloved. The parents of an adopted child reading the story and accepting that they shouldn't feel guilty for having such a treasure. The birth mother is doing fine and knowing that the same kind of inate character to be such a strong human being flows in their adopted child's veins. But probably the most important person I'd like to read the story would be the young lady stuck in a position where she needs to decide what to do. No matter what she does she's going to have to live with it for the rest of her life and it will make a difference. Maybe seeing that she can hold her head up high, have the baby, and still have a productive and happy life after giving the baby up to someone who's willing and capable of what she isn't at the moment. So if any one of these things happens I'll feel good about my daughter making the best of a rough situation. I raised her pro choice. She chose life. She had the wisdom of Solomon after the frailty of character of David. The most rare of combinations in a human being.