Half a week already spent face to face with the painful realities of fostering, adoption, loss, and brokenness, and I find myself undone. Celebrating the beauty and joy and success of working in our county’s system, of spending two years with our children, of seeing the beautiful court picture of our kids’ older sister’s adoption, and of sharing encouragement with another woman walking this same road is juxtaposed against the pain of broken relationships, of hearing words like failure and mistakes, of children who have been hurt so much in so few years, and of wondering if all of this is right.
I don’t have much left this week. I sustain myself with two-year-old “I lub you, Mama”s, with four-year-old hugs “just cause I want to hug you”.
These are my children. Forever.
They are not here by mistake.
Their case was not a failure.
They are living, breathing pictures of redemption.
This story is not over.