Loss and Foster Care

"Loss and Foster Care"

Guest post by Melinda Williams

It’s strange, this kind of loss.  One day you have them. Your moments are filled with rocking them to sleep, kissing boo-boos, threatening time-out, and having dance parties in the kitchen while making dinner.  The next day it is silence and emptiness.  Empty cribs, car seats, and high chairs are all that is left to remind you of what life was like yesterday.  You watch the funny videos and scroll through pictures over and over to make it feel as if they are there again for a moment with you.  Then the silence returns. It is so permanent.  It almost feels like a death although we know it isn’t.  We know in a way that we are living through this deep, dark pit because we prayed this would happen. 

We prayed that this family would be put back together and it has.  Praise God.

Still, it doesn’t make hurts magically heal and brokenness fade away.  Hard struggles remain and it is through this that He teaches me more about who He is and reveals himself to me as we walk this journey together.  As I grieve my Savior draws me close.  He takes my overwhelming mix of emotions battling within my heart and He quiets them.  He casts them away for a moment so I can see His truth and promises underneath the web of hurt. He invites in peace. He allows me to question and be transparent with my anger and doubt because honestly some days I’m not okay.  I’m not okay with the brokenness and chains that this family struggles with.  It breaks my heart.  God doesn’t call me to be okay.  I don’t have to agree with decisions that are being made.  I just have to trust The One who put us here.  The One who allowed us the privilege to parent these amazing babies for a time.  On the days when the worry, burden, and uncertainties are all consuming, I gather up these heavy things and return to God.  I drop them at His feet again.  I cry out to Him to help my unbelief, my unbelief that He’s got this and that He is in control, my unbelief that He loves them more than me and that He has better plans than me.  It is on those days my sweet Father is so gentle with me.  He whispers to me constantly that it is okay. He is in control. He created these children and their parents and He loves them and wants good for them.  He pursues this family with His love.  While I struggle with not knowing if they are okay, He reminds me that "His eye is on [even] the sparrow". 

 I would do it again in a second.

They are worth every tear I cry.  They are worth every prayer I pray.  They are worth every hard minute, hour, day I have wrestling with God over my faith in Him and in what He can do and will do here.  He tells me that he is close to the brokenhearted and I need to be still.  So I sit.  I pray. I cry. I rest. 

I know that He is God and He is where I place all hope and trust in the good to come.