Foster Care Reflections: Time To Let Them Go
This space is so empty it's as if all the oxygen has been stolen from the room. It's still so raw, I cannot even lick my wounds. Not everyone grieves in the same way, but we all grieve. We will all experience loss at some point. We all know this autopilot feeling where you cannot feel anything or else you will feel EVERYTHING. That's where I'm at right now; I'm holding up the floodgates so my emotions do not drown me before the morning.
Today we said goodbye to angels we have loved like our own for a very long time. The moment we prepared for from day 1 seems to have come too soon. I had a whole life with a whole family before they came into it, yet I can't figure out how to function today now that they are gone. When I try to sound all tough and say that I'm used to this part and I'm fine, don't believe me. I may recover faster by now, but loss is not something you ever get used to. You simply learn how to handle it a tad better and trust in God's timing.
This is the day most potential foster families fear. I wish I could sugar coat it and tell you that it's not that bad. I wish I had prettier words at this moment, but I don't. What I have is a very real moment of what it looks like to love and let go. It sucks. It's soul crushing. And I will do it all over again very soon for another family. My feelers are completely broken right now. My emotions are a hot broken mess all over the place like a toddler set loose in the toy aisle at Target. Our house looks like it threw up everything in every single room (which perfectly mirrors our life). When you have one night to pack three kids lives up, your house tends to become a war zone. And today I just don't feel like putting the pieces back together. I don't want to fix things back. I don't want to put things all back nice and neat like they were never here. I don't want to fill the empty spaces. I don't want to make the empty beds. I don't want to gather up the empty hangers. I don't want to acknowledge that I won't hug them tomorrow. I don't want to move on without them, not today.
This is the day most potential foster families fear. I wish I could sugar coat it and tell you that it's not that bad. I wish I had prettier words at this moment, but I don't. What I have is a very real moment of what it looks like to love and let go. It sucks. It's soul crushing. And I will do it all over again very soon for another family. My feelers are completely broken right now. My emotions are a hot broken mess all over the place like a toddler set loose in the toy aisle at Target. Our house looks like it threw up everything in every single room (which perfectly mirrors our life). When you have one night to pack three kids lives up, your house tends to become a war zone. And today I just don't feel like putting the pieces back together. I don't want to fix things back. I don't want to put things all back nice and neat like they were never here. I don't want to fill the empty spaces. I don't want to make the empty beds. I don't want to gather up the empty hangers. I don't want to acknowledge that I won't hug them tomorrow. I don't want to move on without them, not today.
So today I won't put one foot in front of the other. Today, I'm not even going to get out of bed. Today, today I'm going to cry whatever tears may come. Today I'm going to let my heart hurt. Today, I'm going to ask God to fill the void that has been left in my heart. Today, I'm going to ask God to remind me in my weakness that He chose me for this path. Today, I will remind myself of His faithfulness and goodness. Today, His grace is sufficient. Even now as I know we go into battle to fight to keep our potential adopted son, I KNOW His grace is sufficient. When I cannot understand anything that is happening, I know I can still trust the One who has called me and because of that "I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me". Philip 3:12 Let me lose everything, just give me Jesus.
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