Some days, it’s hard to breathe. It might be from the pressure of it all, or it might be from the moments that just take my breath away.
I have so many thoughts swirling in my head, I don’t know if I can make sense of them. There’s this ache in the waiting, the wondering, the longing for things to be settled. There’s the uncertainty in the timing. Then there’s the peace that we hold on to, knowing who is in control – then I can breathe again.
As we uncovered a deeper layer of the trauma our girls have lived through, my heart was broken as I imagined these innocent babies caught in an unimaginable scenario. My babies. I couldn’t help but wonder, God, where were you?
It’s hard not to question God when you hear these stories and others of the lives these children have lived. I know God is sovereign, but it seems so hard to swallow the pain. Then I ask myself, where were you?
I was probably sitting comfortably in my clean home, with a nice beverage, relaxing with my wonderful husband after a quiet dinner – oblivious to the world around me – beginning to respond to the invitation but questioning if it is really God. I was aware of the stirring happening in my heart, even then, but continually rationalized that he probably wasn’t really calling me. Little ol’ me.
What if…… what if the church and the people were so aware of God’s stirring and were able to respond with a “yes” to God’s calling? What would these stories look like?
Jason Johnson wrote a great blog recently about Finding Your Something, whether it be in orphan care or as an army ranger, what is God calling you to? We’re not all called to do the same thing, but we are all called to do something.
What would the story look like if my girls’ mother had been embraced by the church and chose a different path than one of destruction? What if the only reason God moved us to this beautiful place was to prepare us for these girls?
It can be quite easy to live in our comfortable smaller stories; even those can have their own drama.
But what if God is calling you to something more? Oh, it may be scary, it is certainly risky and I can assure you there will be pain – but it is worth it.
“Mommy, remember when I was in your tummy, and you had to push, and then I came out?”
As I held her in my lap I reminded her, no sweet girl, you were not in my tummy. Remember? You had another mommy first. You were in her tummy. Then later, you came to live with me and we love you oh-so-much!
I’m not pretending this was always my story. She was not always my baby. This isn’t the way it was supposed to be. But somewhere a what if turned into a yes and here we are, in the midst of moments that take my breath away.
I can’t erase the past or the things my girls went through, but I can trust that God will heal and redeem those parts of their story. Their lives will have scars and we will one day have to explain hard things to them. I hope we’re able to share with them honestly, in a way that honors the good things and celebrates a God that was so faithful to protect these precious babies.
“She knows her new name. I hope you don’t mind, we’ve been calling her that and she knows we’re talking to her.” The sweet daycare worker told me this when I was picking up Baby Girl yesterday.
I wish you knew how much everything within me wants to call these girls by a new name, one that marks their life with a hope and a future, a new inheritance, a new story. We are still waiting, hoping, trusting and trying to breathe. It’s hard for me to be in this place of limbo, where it seems every decision is dependent upon this. I haven’t allowed myself to call them by their new names, it’s too risky. I don’t know if my heart can take that kind of disappointment, you know, if the bottom falls out. It’s not a lack of faith, I don’t think. I’m trying to be real with where we are and the feelings I carry. It just feels heavy some days.
How does this all come together? Well, I just keep wondering, what would the world look like if we all stepped into our parts of the story, truly revealing God to a broken world?
What is God calling you to?
When I am tempted to ask God, where were you? I can only hope his response is not, I was calling you to play your part, but you didn’t hear me.