“There is a light in this world, a healing spirit more powerful than any darkness we may encounter. We sometimes lose sight of this force when there is suffering, too much pain. Then suddenly, the spirit will emerge through the lives of ordinary people who hear a call and answer in extraordinary ways.”
My brother and his wife dropped by to
introduce us to their foster child – their very first foster child.
I couldn't even look at Baby P without
my eyes getting all shiny. Holding her and breathing in her sweet baby
smell kicked those tears right on over the tipping point.
It wasn't
just the idea that this baby had not been loved ENOUGH... but also
the fact that my brother and sister-in-law had made room in their
busy lives to love her NOW.
I'm always trying to convince my
brother that he is a hero – because he absolutely is, to me. He
shrugs it off every time; this time by saying, “I really didn't
want to do this, but apparently that didn't matter to God.”
About a year ago, the tug on their
hearts to become foster parents became a calling. A God calling.
Even though the timing seemed a bit off (they are old enough to be
sniffing the delicious odor of retirement, yet young enough to be
enjoying their own precious grandbabies) they trusted in His perfect timing.
What an amazingly unselfish act of love
and obedience.
And now, they are absolutely besotted by
this tiny brown-eyed wonder. Even knowing that she will likely cause
their hearts to break, they hold nothing back in loving her. Why?
Because somebody needs to love her at this time, in this moment. And because that's what they
signed up for... to provide an interim home for children, a safe
place to land until a forever home is found.
Heartbreak be danged.
===========================================
I sat in my chair, listening as the
Dickman shared lunch with his Mom.
“Where's the Other One?” She
asked.
“You mean Jackie? Your son Jackie is
upstairs.” Dickie replied.
“Oh, okay. Where is Dickie?”
“That's me, Mom. I'm your son,
Dickie.”
She took a long look at him – really
looked. Then she let out a little self-conscious laugh and said, “Of
course you are. But I didn't know your name was Dickie, did I?
Isn't there another name I call you?”
“No, Mom. You've always called me
Dickie.”
As her attention turned back to her
food, he looked out the window and blinked away the tears.
It's not easy watching their hearts
break as their Mama fades before their very eyes, a bit more every day.
But taking this journey with her is
worth the heartache. We have chosen to live in the pain.
Just like Baby P's brand new foster parents... we have been called to this moment. God's fingerprints are all over this.
He planned it, He organized it and He will carry us through.
Heartbreak be danged.
===========================================
He specializes in broken
hearts, you know. God does extraordinary things with the
light that shines from the broken places of ordinary people. He never wastes our pain.
Which is why we shouldn't fear
suffering. We should never be afraid to put ourselves in the path of
heartbreak for a purpose greater than ourselves. Because it's not
about us.
And there is promise in the pain. Promise of a deeper
understanding... a stronger faith... a richer, more purposeful life.
Loving one another, even if our hearts break. That's what makes us real.
No comments:
Post a Comment