Spilling secrets

In her debut book Life Wide Open, Sheryn Adamson bares her soul ‘warts and all’. It’s been a journey that has included romance, faith, police stories, and a seven-year battle with infertility. But God has always been the author of Sheryn’s story.
 
Sheryn Adamson has always been a woman of action. Determined to become a police officer since she was 13 years old, she never imagined herself as a writer.

But in 2015 she was put on three months bedrest after an operation. It forced her to stop, literally—and she began to reflect back on a life rich with stories. As a police officer, she had often written down difficult experiences to help her cope. Then, during her years struggling with infertility, Sheryn journaled as a healing tool. Now, these stories were flooding back.

Finding it difficult to rest, Sheryn decided to go for a walk one day. She broke her stitches, and it meant an additional three months of rest. She got the message: It’s time to be still.

‘I started to realise that with the things I’ve been through, I need to say to people, “You’re not the only one”. I need to share my experiences because they are all for a purpose.’ Those six months ‘on the couch’ also had a hidden purpose—and she has just launched her debut book, Life Wide Open.

‘I’m actually a major introvert and very private person,’ muses Sheryn. ‘But I felt that everything I have been through has been for a reason, and therefore it’s not about me—it’s about sharing my journey so I can help others.

‘The book is just me from the inside out, wide open, warts and all. Life is not always awesome, it’s hard, it’s ugly, it’s sad, but—and there must be a “but”—there is a good God who is in control.’

A dream ignited

Sheryn grew up in the heart of The Salvation Army, with officer parents Garth and Mel McKenzie (who later became Commissioners). Faith was modelled to her at an early age: ‘I would see Mum and Dad pray because they were short on money that week, and the next day petrol vouchers would turn up in our letterbox,’ recalls Sheryn.

At the age of 14, Sheryn knew that she had to make her own decision about whether she would follow her parents’ faith. ‘I’ve always been very evidence-based—that came through in becoming a police officer—and I had seen God’s faithfulness, I couldn’t deny it.’

It was at a youth group event that her passion for policing was ignited—quite literally—when they stumbled across a house on fire. ‘I just wanted to get in that house to see if there was anyone in there, it was so hard to stand back. It was a gang-related arson, so we had to go to the police station to be interviewed.

As soon as I walked in there, I thought, “Oh, this is me!” I went home and said that I was going to become a police officer.’

This was in the ’80s, when women were still a side-lined minority in the police. But Sheryn was unwavering. On her 19th birthday—complete with big ’80s hair and power suit—she marched into the recruitment office.

‘I walked in and there was the big, gruff policeman—just like you’d imagine—and I said, “Hi Sir, I’m Sheryn and I’m here to join the police”. He took one look at me and laughed, “You can’t become a police officer. Look at you”. I was devastated. I literally looked myself up and down and said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t see the problem”.’ A year later, Sheryn was enrolled in police college.

Rookie cop

It was her first day, in her first appointment, and Sheryn got more than she bargained for. She was stationed in Palmerston North and anxious to make a good impression. ‘I had to press the buzzer to be let in, and I was really conscious of the time, so I ended up pressing the buzzer quite a few times. The next minute, the door flies open and this policeman comes bursting in and says “What the **** do you want?”

‘And I just looked at him and thought, “You’re gorgeous”.’

The young policeman was Brad Adamson. They worked a few shifts together and she began to see that—despite their first meeting—he had a kind and caring heart. There was just one problem: he didn’t have a Christian faith.

‘Brad started coming to church and he believed in God, but I knew I couldn’t marry someone who didn’t have a personal faith, and I just kept praying, “God, I’m really falling for this guy”.’ It was a tumultuous time for them both. Then one day, when she was away for the weekend, Brad went to church without her.  ‘He rang me in tears and said, “I understand!”’ Just two years after they met, Sheryn and Brad were married.

Palmy was also the place where Sheryn learnt what life was like as a street cop. ‘Back then, as a female, you felt that you had to prove yourself. I remember the first fight I was in, I was being swung around like a ragdoll, but I thought, “I’m going to sort this guy out and prove that I can do it”, so I tackled him to the ground.’

She’ll never forget her first police chase: ‘We got the call that there wa a domestic violence incident—a man had come home drunk, he’d thrown the family cat against the wall and killed it, the kids were screaming, and he got a firearm and threatened his wife, then took off in his car with the gun.

‘We chased him for a good 20 minutes from Palmerston North to Feilding, knowing he could turn around and shoot us. Suddenly he ran out of petrol. All these cop cars pulled up, it was complete silence and it felt like slow motion. Then, just as suddenly, the dogs were out, the Armed Offenders boys were yelling. I was 20, and it was the first time I realised what a serious job I had signed up for.’

Better work stories

Still a young officer, Sheryn was given a real-life 21 Jump Street case: the assignment was to dress up in a local school uniform, knock on the door of a known drug dealer, and make a cannabis purchase. But things started to go wrong when the drug dealer brought Sheryn into the blacked-out house—out of view of her colleagues.

Other school kids were there, quizzing her about her school, her friends and teachers. Things were looking touch-and-go, when the dealer finally handed over a tinny and Sheryn made her purchase.

She got away, and they made the arrest. ‘I didn’t feel bad for him because he was selling to school kids, and I always had that black and white justice thing that, “You’re doing the wrong thing, mate, and that’s not okay”.’

But the story that haunts her to this day, is the one time Sheryn felt she could not do the right thing as a cop. A four-year-old girl was being raised in a loving, safe environment in Fiji by her grandmother. But the mother—a total stranger to her daughter—decided she wanted her back in New Zealand. She had received a court order allowing her to take custody.

Sobbing, the grandmother handed over her precious girl, and Sheryn was tasked with taking the child to her new home. The house was ‘an absolute shambles’ and the mother appeared to have no interest in her daughter. ‘I was disgusted,’ says Sheryn—who, 20 years later, still has tears in her eyes as she remembers. ‘When the little girl realised I was leaving her there, this look of horror came across her face and she started sobbing, holding on to me for dear life. My partner and I had to pry her wee hands off my legs.’

Making babies

The pain of that memory is made more acute by Sheryn’s own battle to become a mother. Diagnosed with severe endometriosis, Sheryn was told she would never have children. This began a heart-breaking journey of seven years, trying to get pregnant.

IVF was not an option, since at that time many eggs had to be fertilised. The couple felt that these were individual lives, and could not be abandoned. ‘It had a huge effect on me. I was probably depressed, I had to take three months off the police because of my emotional state,’ says Sheryn. ‘I am a happy person by nature, but I was just sad all the time.

‘I got to the point where I felt that, either, “God you’re real and you’re with me, or I can’t go on like this”. I couldn’t understand how God could leave his child so broken and not fix me.’ Sheryn also had to make the heart-breaking decision to leave the police force, since the stresses of the job were creating a barrier to getting pregnant.

Then, out of the blue—six years after their visit—Sheryn and Brad got a letter about changes to the IVF programme. New technology allowed them to make a smaller number of embryos. They were only given a 10 per cent chance of success, but decided to give it a go.

Six embryos were created. Three failed to survive. But the first embryo implanted became their daughter, Tayla. A year and a half later, another embryo was implanted but failed to survive, then the next two also failed. They only had one more chance. The last embryo became their youngest daughter, Rylee.

The journey was not yet over. After five operations for endometriosis, Sheryn had to undergo a hysterectomy. And so, she found herself on bedrest, contemplating her life so far.

‘To be honest, I would have loved to have had more children. Having the operation wasn’t just a physical removal, it was the loss of hopes and dreams. But I had to learn to be okay with that loss,’ reflects Sheryn.

And from this painful process, a new hope was birthed. ‘God is faithful. Everything you go through, and every experience is shaping you and making you the person you are meant to become,’ says Sheryn. ‘Even at my lowest point, God has never left me.

I hope that in reading my book, others can know that God is in their journey too.’

Life Wide Open can be purchased at WestBowPress.com, Amazon.com, BookDepository.com, and by phoning Manna Christian bookstores, who can order it in.

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by Ingrid Barratt (c) 'War Cry' magazine, 7 April 2018, pp6-9. You can read 'War Cry' at your nearest Salvation Army church or centre, or subscribe through Salvationist Resources.