Courage

I still miss my Beau.  It’s been over a month now.  More than a month since he smiled at me as I buckled him into his car seat.  More than a month since we watched from our window as he left our lives forever.  

I still display his picture for anyone that will look at it.  I still cry over him.  I still wish things would have been different.  So many of us don’t want to do anything that might hurt us or break out hearts.  It’s a common fear, a valid fear. 

But, in our Bible study on Saturday, our teacher spoke of how our pain and heartache are reminders that we’ve had the courage to love.  I don’t feel so courageous.  But as I wait by the phone for the next call, I do know that it's always worth it. 

And when my heart hurts to think about my little love, I'm reminded that I loved him well.

A Better Story

A phantom cry, the indentation where he used to sleep in his bed, my favorite onesie, a random bottle in the dishwasher.  I miss him.  Every day.

Beau is gone.   He had a tragic, lonely, sad story from his very beginning and I wanted to change his ending.  What’s so hard is that I didn’t want to be a part of his story for three and a half months, I wanted to see his life played out all the way through.  I want to see his happy ending, not just play a part in it. 

As it is, we aren’t just a part of his story, he’s a part of ours.  My mistake was thinking that I had anything at all to do with the script.  It turns out that as much as I want to write this book, I’m not the Author.  And the bigger picture, through the pain, will always be that there’s a better story to be told.  We just haven't glimpsed those pages.

“Have the courage to live under strain and pain to be part of a better story.  A larger story.  Don’t wimp out.”  Beth Moore.

As weak as I feel right now, I don’t plan on ever wimping out.   There’s a larger story to be told.  Keep reading…

Impossible

As I was lying in bed last night, my heart was pained and racing.  Panic and sadness were taking over.  My fears had set in and the tears falling over the bridge of my nose onto my pillow were screaming that my faith has not been perfected. 

We’re meeting with Beau’s attorney today.  In the middle of the night, the words I would say to him kept rolling through my mind.  I was making the argument that the best thing for this child is to stay with us.  Forever.  He’s bonded to me, to the girls, to Matt.  We would make sure he would have the very best his whole life long.  Jesus, love, faith, stability, comfort, character, strength.  We’d provide him with a wonderful education.  Matt would teach him to play football.  We’d all teach him to laugh.  And at 2:00 am, I begged God to let us find out today that there really is hope that we’ll get to keep him, in the face of everyone that has said that it’s hopeless, impossible.

I started thinking about that word.  “Impossible.”  It means, “beyond the bounds of possibility.”  I began to wonder if maybe, “impossible” isn’t one of God’s favorite words because it gives Him the opportunity to show His power and might.  As I look over my life and who I once was, my salvation seemed impossible.  Rhyan being able to hear and speak after the doctors told us she was profoundly deaf, seemed impossible.  Keeping our first house after Matt lost his job twice in one year, seemed impossible.  My niece living after arriving three months early, seemed impossible.  Yet, I’m saved, Rhyan hears, we have our house, Lily’s alive.  “Impossible” is meaningless to my God.

This morning, I’m feeling stronger.  My heart isn’t quite so twisted and squeezed.  I’m not crying.  I’m praying that Beau’s attorney says the words I want to hear.  And I’m thanking Him for the privilege of ever knowing Beau at all. 

I love this baby boy like he’s my own.  I’ve known him for a lifetime.  And I’ll follow Christ today, like I have from the beginning.  But, today, I’m not just walking behind Him.  I’m holding onto Him with all I have.

I have set the Lord always before me.  Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Psalm 16:8

La’akov.

Silence

I’m walking in His footsteps so closely now that I can’t see anything in front of me, nothing on the side.  All I see is Him, protecting me as He walks before me. 

Beau is still here.  That’s a miracle in itself.  It’s one of the most blatant miracles I’ve witnessed in my life.  I was getting phone calls nearly every other day regarding his leaving.  Visitations were constantly being set up with the stranger, visitations with his mother, visitations with his father.  It’s been more than three weeks now and I haven’t heard a word.  Not an email, not a phone call.  Nothing. 

The silence has lulled me into the belief that Beau is staying with us forever.  Two year ago in November, I felt that God was promising me a son.  I told him I wanted another girl, but that’s not what I heard.  Through His Word, through prayer, through the prayers of my children.  I heard a promise.  I’ve lived on faith since that time that His promise would come true.  

When Baby left, I questioned whether I heard correctly.  In my mind, Baby was the one for us   My faith was rattled the day I put him in his car seat and watched his case worker drive away.  But, Beau was born the day I said good-bye to Baby.  One hope is gone, one is born. 

I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future.  Even tomorrow is a question mark.  It’s a difficult way to live, but what better way to completely and fully trust in Jesus with all my heart, soul, mind and strength.  I literally have no other choice.  

These past three weeks have made me stronger.  I’m following with sure steps, solid footing.  And one thing about following so closely to my Lord - if I do hear the news I never want to hear and I stumble in my pain, I know I'll never fall.

The Desires of My Heart

It’s been two and half weeks since Beau came to our home.  When he arrived, all I could think was that I hadn’t waited long enough after Baby had gone.  I was missing him and I didn’t feel like I would ever be able to love Beau the same way.  I could look after his needs, care for him, and keep him safe.  But I couldn’t love him.

The girls were learning a Bible verse that hung on the refrigerator,
“Delight yourself in the LORD and He will give you the desires of your heart.”  Psalm 32:4

I’ve known that verse for years, and I understand it.  God won’t give us the selfish things we desire because we ask for them.  He will put His own desires in our hearts because He knows what’s best for us.  So, I prayed.

It didn’t take more than an hour or so, and Beau was making his way into my heart.  After two and half weeks, I’m standing where I was with Baby.  Loving him like he's my own and wanting what’s best for him, trusting that God will work it out because all I have right now is faith.

Beau’s case worker is doing a home study for a non-relative placement.  A friend of his mother’s wants him and he could leave us by next week.  But, Beau’s case is much different than Baby’s.  It’s more dangerous and requires much more trust with his protection.  The thought of him leaving makes me physically ill because I honestly don’t know that he will be safe away from here.  I look at his little face and tiny body and cover him with prayers for his safety, because only God can keep him from harm. 

So, here I am again.  Praying for God’s will, preparing for a broken heart, saying that I won’t do this again because it hurts too bad. 

And knowing that if he does leave us, I will say ‘yes’ when that next phone call comes in.  Because I delight myself in the LORD.  And He is giving me the desires of His heart.

Stubborn

My husband is stubborn.  After our first argument, all those years ago, I expected him to immediately apologize.  He didn’t.  Not only did he not apologize, he expected me to apologize.   We apparently worked things out, but I don’t remember it being easy.

Matt’s still stubborn.  But, today his stubbornness is used for good.  He’s stubborn about how we spend our money, how we raise our girls, and he’s stubborn, always, about putting God first in all of our decisions. 

More than a year and a half ago, we began the conversation about fostering.  At the time, we both said we wanted to wait.  A year ago, classes were beginning and Matt told me he’d take the classes, but he still wasn’t sure we would foster.  The classes began and he said he wouldn’t mind fostering, but he didn’t want to adopt.  After 12 weeks of classes, he said he wanted to foster, and if God put adoption out there for us, he was willing. 

Then Baby came into our home.  My stubborn man got a little melty.  But, when the circumstance came up that we would have to take Baby’s brother or he would have to go to his brother’s foster family, Matt said we simply couldn’t take in two children.  So, I prayed.  I wanted both boys.  And then, all of a sudden, we began planning our house for two little boys.  We figured out beds and car seats and in what seemed like only moments, Matt’s heart was changed. 

God loves stubborn hearts.  Stubborn hearts show His power to work in mighty ways.  I’ve seen a man that didn’t to want to foster at all tell me last week that he was ready to take in another baby, even before I was ready.  God.  It can only be God.   

And it can only be good.

Spinning

Matt and I were alone last night after the girls had gone to sleep.  Nothing really reminded me of Baby.  He’s just always in my thoughts.  In the quiet of house, I told Matt that I missed that precious little boy.  I wasn’t expecting a response.  Matt’s very good at letting me vent or share without needing to fix things.  So when he told me that he missed him too, I was surprised.  They were the perfect words and I needed to hear them.  I’m not alone.

This morning, I walked into Baby’s room for the first time since he left.  His little clothes were on the dresser.  His crib just like I left it when I woke him up Tuesday afternoon to put him in a car seat on his way away.  I felt the emotion like a physical blow and it took my breath.  I’m not sure this is something everyone can understand.  I feel almost silly describing it.  He was never my child, how can I love him so much?  But, whether I can explain it or not, I just do.

Matt and I had decided to wait a month or so to heal up a bit before we took in another child.  But, when I received that call from our licensing agent today that there was a newborn girl that needed a placement, I didn’t have to think about it too long.  Of course we’d take her. 

By then end of the day, the case managers had found a home for her with a sibling.  I wasn’t only walking in the dark today, I was spinning.  But, I’m so grateful for many things.  I know that I’m getting stronger in the disappointments, I’m immediately giving my hurt to God and telling Him with a smile “Your will be done.”, and I’m following Him at a closer distance.  But, what I’m most grateful for is that even though I felt guilty to think of bringing another child into our home, as irrational as that is, I know that I can.  And we will.   

Maybe even tomorrow.