This year on December 3 birth mom and I chatted, discussions of Thanksgiving transitioned to what kind of questions she should ask a potential day care, and it all came to a moment of encouragement. We talked about dreams and shared the power of vision casting. I was humbled, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of grace for this woman. This woman, who is living her own story of redemption, who birthed my babies into existence, the woman who holds in her hands the very Little One I grieve for, the woman who can receive redemption just as I.
Taking me a bit to process through, relationships with birth parents at first it can be unwanted, foreign and unnatural. We can make it “weird” and territorial, that is easy to do. Addiction and legal rights aside, we both desperately love the same four kiddos, loving them well, means loving her well. While I am still confident that my crew is not quite healed and ready for contact again with birth mom, I am. Walking in relationship with birth parents is tricky, surrendering our little ones back into to the hands that hurt them is gut wrenching, we hope that this time it rehab sticks, they have changed, praying safety over our babies. Whether it be for a few hours, a weekend visit or until the next slip up. It hurts saying goodbye and getting your head wrapped around can be a long road of surrender, find the ability to love with an open hand.
Last week my heart was heavy as I unpacked her stocking. The crew and I are a bit at a loss, our brains know this season and our hearts long for her. Redemption is messy, it’s hard and exhausting. I will admit there is a heaviness that comes with foster care, the weight of it all at times feels crushing. The call to this world comes with a certain heaviness, anyone who works with foster care knows that. The entire system exists because of brokenness, addiction and abuse, redemption is buying back those lives impacted.
I spoke this week for a group of beautiful diverse women. Sharing "my story" I realized that 6 months ago life was a nice package with a beautiful bow, it was perfect, clean and just as I hoped. Currently, all that was figured out and organized is now unraveled and tattered. No part of my life currently has the closure I desire, I am now on my own journey of redemption.
Forrest’s mom was right, life is like a box of chocolates, we are never confident in what exactly we will get. These days my life seems a bit more like a woven tapestry, I can only see the back side consumed by the chaos of tangled strings and twisted mess. I believe that my Master Crafter God is working it all together and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it will be beautiful. He has the final image in His brain, He knows where all the strings of chaos lead. He does good work but He also understands the price tag of redemption, it cost Him His very life.