Stephanie Fast - She Is Mine: A War Orphans Incredible Journey of Survival

A WAR ORPHANS INCREDIBLE
JOURNEY OF SURVIVAL

STEPHANIE FAST

D & S PUBLISHING

Aloha, Oregon

She Is Mine

Copyright 2014 by Stephanie Fast

D & S Publishing

Destiny Ministries

PO Box 6081

Aloha, Oregon 97007

ISBN 978-0-9962938-0-8 (hardcover)

Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from The Message.

Copyright 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002.

Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or any other except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior permission of the author.

Editor: David Lambert

Contributing writers: Catherine Johnson, Kristie DeHaven and Ed Schwartz

Cover design: Dan DeHaven

Interior design: Beth Shagene

Printed in the United States of America

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www.stephaniefast.org

She Is Mine

is dedicated to

the 143,000,000 orphans in the world.

These children will probably never have voices loud enough or public enough to share their life journeys with you. My hope is that this book will become their voice as well as mine. Yes, this book is about my orphan memories, but it is also about the many other orphans in the world. Names, places, and times change, but the challenges of being an orphanor a vulnerable childanywhere in the world are very real, very difficult, and generally much the same.

She Is Mine is also dedicated to all who have committed their lives to being a voice for the parentless and all children at risk. It is frightening to think how different my own life might have been if not for heroes like you.

When I walk into the thick of trouble,
keep me alive in the angry turmoil

Save me.

Finish what you started in me, God.

Your love is eternaldont quit on me now.

the Psalmist (MSG)

Contents

A host of people have filled me to overflowing with thankfulness. I want each of you to know how grateful I am. My blessing toward you is that you would experience the rich love of your Father, that you would hear his applause and his shout of Great job!

To my mom and dad, David and Judy Merwin: Thank you for your ability to look beyond the limitations of human sight and to believe that the Spirit of God was telling you to take me home and raise me as your daughter. Your belief in me and your continual love have grounded me. Thank you for instilling in me the hope that there was a future and destiny ahead.

Darryl, youve loved me forever. Youve never wavered. You have been constant, covering me with your patient leading. Through impossibilities, you held my hand and kept my heart safe as we built our own family. Thank you for walking in our destiny.

Stephen and Davin, you hold my heart! Each time I look at you, I know that what man says is impossible, God says is possible. You filled our home with laughter and tears! Thank you for being a part of my destiny. You brought your wives and our wonderful grandchildren into the family, filling our lives with so much extra love.

Catherine and Charlie Johnson, you have been deep and solid life-givers. You walked with me through so many prayers and buckets of tears as this book took form. Your family gave up many hours of family time to support the writing of She Is Mine. This book has a destiny because of the many ways in which you have given to it.

Kristie and Dan DeHaven, your time away from your family, your creative touch in writing, your friendship, and your belief have influenced us to believe in a destiny for this book.

Our board members, your prayers, encouragement, and input have been so valuable. Thank you for enabling this book to bring hope to orphans around the world.

Ed Schwartz, thank you for listening to the Lord and for the hours you dedicated to helping write the first draft of this book. I will be forever grateful.

John and Lyza Clarke, you have been friends for many years. Thank you for loving me, counseling me, and being a part of my healing process. You are a part of our destiny.

Thanks to Dave Lambert, the best editor, and to John Topliff and Somersault for your expertise and amazing vision. Your talents show through in this book. Thanks for being a part of this destiny.

My All in All, you have encouraged me, fought for me, pruned me, given me an identity, made me legitimate, given me purpose, and healed me so that I can trust. My destiny is full of joy and hope because of you. The words thank you sound so weakbut you know my heart! People sometimes ask me, How can you be so transparent, sharing all the ugliness that has happened to you, all the dashed hopes? My only answer is, I am so grateful for what he has done for me, how can I not do what he has asked me to do?

This story follows the path of my life as a child of destiny.

Most people have memories linked together like a film with no end because the gaps are filled in by others in their lives. My memories have been like a slide showstill pictures with empty spaces betweenuntil the writing of this book forced me to remember and fill in the gaps and correct or clarify my memories. They are all I have, and they are precious to me. As you read, I believe that you will be mostly able to discern where I have filled in the gaps to create a seamless history.

Since I have not been able to remember my birth name, I have chosen Yoon Myoung, which translates as Destiny.

You will notice that, although the story is mine, recounting what happened directly to me, it is written in the third person. There is a reason. While this is the story of my life, it differs only in cultural details from the stories of the innumerable nameless and faceless orphans around the world today. This story belongs to the worlds other orphans as much as it belongs to me, and I did not want to disguise that truth in a first-person narrative.

PART 1

CHAPTER 1

Friday afternoon, December 25, 1953Christmas Day

He was a tall, lean, twenty-two-year-old, a world away from home. The creases on his face had not been there two years earlier. A jagged scar on his left cheek, just above the jawline, would forever remind him that he had survived when so many others had not. Despite five months of cease-fire, shadows hung in his eyes as he trudged along the rock-hard dirt road.

Nearly two years had passed since the day he had kicked off his farm boots to collapse in a kitchen chair, exhausted from working in the Montana wheat fields. The spring wheat he and his father had planted months earlier, working side by side, had turned a golden yellow, perfect for harvest. As he reached across the table for the pitcher of water, he noticed an envelope on the tableaddressed to him. He felt his skin turn cold and his stomach twist. He knew immediately what was in that envelope: his worst fears brought to reality.