"Imagine how you've spent all this time in our family, with a mom and dad and siblings. You have a home. Now imagine that one day we took you to an office downtown, kissed you good bye and wished you well with your new family. Then we left you with this new couple. They don't look like you, don't smell like you, don't even speak English. You spend two weeks with them here in America, and then they take you on a plane to their home country. Nothing is like it was at home. You have to learn a new language, in the middle of people who seem to be nothing like you. Imagine this is your new reality and you never see us again."
This is hard to hear. It stops you in your tracks. It might even make your heart hurt and make you tear up. It does for me. It sometimes does for my kids too--when they stop and think about it. It's easy as an adult to reassure myself that it will all be ok. It might be really hard in the beginning, and I know it's for her best, so I know she will eventually adjust...
But today was different. Today broke my heart and brought me to my knees. I am watching my friend's daughter for a couple of hours. She loves to play with my daughter and it's even better that she's the same age as our new little one. It gives us all a glimpse into life with another little one running around and we LOVE it. We love her.
But about an hour into her visit today, Little Miss came to find me. I got down eye to eye with her to find out what she needed. With tears on the edges of her eyes, threatening to spill over, she looked up at me and said "um, I miss my mommy." This was not new. She usually says this once or twice when she's over to play. I reassured her that in just a couple of hours Mommy would be back to pick her up and that it was almost time to play in the sprinkler. With that, she was just fine, and went on her way to get her swimsuit on.
And then it hit me...like a ton of bricks. My daughter is the same age. My daughter will have the same fear, the same longing, the same tears as she desperately wants her "mommy". But she won't be able to tell me. She won't be able to use her words to share her hurt. It will be a while before we speak the same language. She likely won't even trust me enough to tell me if she could--because she won't know me, won't be familiar with me at all. In reality, she will be alone, in a world of hurt, for weeks, if not months, at first. And this breaks me. It tears apart my mama heart, because all I want to do is make the world alright for her...to calm her fears, to heal her hurts, to let her know I will never leave her, and will always ALWAYS love her more than life itself. The harsh truth is, as much as I want to do that, it will be quite a while before I can do that for her. The reality of this hit me hard today. And it sucks.
Would you please pray for our girl today? Pray for her heart, for the hurt she will face. Pray for our relationship...that while she won't know me, that she'll begin to trust me, to come to me for comfort when she's hurting. And pray for her mama. The gravity that this woman, who has raised her for the last 3.5 years, will very soon have to kiss her goodbye, likely to never see her again, is not lost on me. Please pray that God would comfort her pain, reassuring her that she is doing the very best for this child she loves so very much.
Sometimes life is bittersweet, but I am confident that beauty will be found in these ashes...
"...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor."
--Isaiah 61: 3
Thank you for being our village, for covering us in prayer.
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