Even as I type those words, I can't stop the tears that seem endless.
Every foster parent in the world has been told, I would love to do that but I could never let go.
Letting go is hard. It is.
It's the kick-you-in-the-gut hard that leaves you weeping on the bathroom floor for a few good hours - or days - in grief.
But I'm learning there's another hard.
It's watching their futures unfold with a nagging darkness that seeps through the cracks...as you commit to walking with them after you've let go.
It's the silent lies that begin to take form, and you're suddenly not sure if you're brave enough to watch the children you love with your life grow up...because it may mean the death of your own longings over...and over... and over.
And then like an addiction...you take the Father's hand to climb on the merry-go-round once again...because you've worked yourself into a corner where trusting Him is your only hope.
That's how I felt.
As Sara Groves sings, I was painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacked. The future looks so hard, and I want to go back.
Then my precious friend Lori sent me this quote, and it brought me to my knees...
In general, to "do justice" means to live in a way that generates a strong community where human beings flourish. Specifically, however, to "do justice" means to go places where the fabric of shalom (peace) has broken down, where weaker members of societies are falling through the fabric, and to repair it...How can we do that? The only way to reweave and strengthen the fabric is by weaving YOURSELF into it. Human beings are like those threads thrown together on a table. If we keep our money, time, and power to ourselves, instead of sending them out into our neighbor's lives, then we may be literally on top of one another, but we are not interwoven socially, relationally, financially, and emotionally. Reweaving shalom means to sacrificially thread, lace, and press your time, power, and resources into the lives and needs of others. ~ Tim Keller
You see...there is no going back...this is my shalom...being woven so deeply into their lives, and they into mine...the calling is seamless.
And so on Sunday morning, I stretched my arms over my children, my sons, my man and wept these words from the depths of my soul...
No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in them.
From life's first cry, to final breath...
Jesus commands their destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck them from His hand,
'Til He returns or calls them Home...
Jesus, let them stand in your power,
By your power.
Clinging to our Savior ~