Come and see

Words poured out during a hazy afternoon in China…

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The righteous deeds of the saints—the good things we do in the service of Jesus…they are our glory, they are Jesus’ gift to us…He made it Himself as beautifully as only the creator of the sunsets and of stars can.

–John Hindley

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it is not about us.
it isn’t even all about them.
it’s all about Him.
His heart. His kingdom work. Drawing us and them, His creations, closer to Himself.
Revealing even just a glimpse of who He is through touch…locked eyes…words that we cannot understand but expression and tone that we can…relationship.

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I imagine Him smiling, nudging me along much like I do the children before me.
He’s saying…
Let me show you who I am.
Come take a look at hope.
Come and see my redeeming love.
Let me guide your hands to join me.
Be my ambassador
not because you are worthy but because you are my child and I can’t wait to show myself to you.
I am good.
Right here.
at this orphanage in China.
I am good.
I am.

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Kelly has a passion for supporting adoptive families, specifically to encourage parents to be intentional and understand their own hearts more clearly as they seek to care for their hearts of their children. Kelly has a Master’s degree in counseling and has been working with adoptive families since she and her husband Mark founded the The Sparrow Fund. Married to Mark since 1998, they have 3 biological children and 1 daughter who was adopted as a toddler from China in 2010. You can learn more about their adoption story, how they’ve been changed by the experience of adoption, and what life for them looks like on Kelly’s personal blog, My Overthinking.

October 16, 2014February 18, 2015

Glimpses

Words from the journal of one of our teammates while I make my 1 + 2 Nescafe in my room and start the day…
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Day 1 in the orphanage was overwhelming. I loved playing with the 5-7 month old babies. SS was a happy, smiley baby girl. She seemed healthy with good development. PZ was another sweet baby. But, what made the day hard was the baby with CP. I feel deeply in love. I think the Lord is calling me to special needs. We have a PT in our team room and she was showing me how to care for this need. She didn’t have a lot of head control or control in her arms and legs. I spent a good amount of the day stretching her arms and massaging her palms. Her right hand gripped my finger tightly. It was then that I felt invested, committed. Her left hand was still limp with no dexterity. I kept working on it in small doses with intermittent neck movements and arm stretches. I helped her with a chopping motion. She didn’t like it. She would cringe lightly with the movement of crossing her arms in front of her body. We tried some belly time. She laid like an airplane with her chest in my palm. I held a toy in front of her and helped her grab it. Her heart rate went up. I could feel each heart beat pound in my hand. She was getting the exercise she needed. I smiled. She was working so hard. She was strong. I gave her a break and just held her, rubbing her back before we tried belly time a while later. After the second belly time, I had her in my lap when suddenly, with her left hand, she gripped my knee. I leaped for joy inside! Shortly after, she fell asleep in my arms. She worked so hard, and I was so proud.

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When this team member entered the same room for Day 2, ready to pursue this sweet child again, she was handed a different baby. She thought, “I don’t want this baby this morning. I want my little girl from yesterday…how can I get my hands on her instead!” As she was surveying the scene to strategize to that end, she stopped.

One of the ayis was in the corner of the room doing the exact exercises with the baby girl that our team member had done the day before.

She had watched her from a distance without asking questions, observing, noticing the progress, seeing the joy in our team member when the baby girl gripped her knee. And, now, there she was, doing exactly what the PT had shown our team member to do.

If only for that one moment, if only for that one ayi, if only for that one baby receiving what she needs, this trip with 15 people was worth it.

Glimpses…

Room B1 Room A1 Room d1 baoji outside1 ____________________________________ Kelly has a passion for supporting adoptive families, specifically to encourage parents to be intentional and understand their own hearts more clearly as they seek to care for their hearts of their children. Kelly has a Master’s degree in counseling and has been working with adoptive families since she and her husband Mark founded the The Sparrow Fund. Married to Mark since 1998, they have 3 biological children and 1 daughter who was adopted as a toddler from China in 2010. You can learn more about their adoption story, how they’ve been changed by the experience of adoption, and what life for them looks like on Kelly’s personal blog, My Overthinking.

October 15, 2014

Stripping Away Layers {Resting in His Faithfulness}

It’s been 6 months since we moved to the farm:) What we call the farm anyway. Little by little–we are making this place our home. It’s not easy making updates with homeschooling and 5 children under 10, but each time we put our mark on something–it feels a little more like home…like it fits us.

This weekend.

Oh the lessons.

Bit by bit we can do updates–and this next month, it will be the carpet upstairs. Removing 10 years of someone else’s stuff and replacing it with clean, new carpet. I decided to help the cost a bit by ripping up the carpet on the stairs. Only–my projects never, ever seem to help the cost. Some times, just add to it.

So on Thursday I decided to just rip it up. It was no easy task. And I’ve got battle wounds to prove that. Scraps all over my arm from those staples left in the carpet as I twisted and pulled and pulled some more. On Friday–I started sanding. Then that night–I stained. And uh oh. Applied Minwax. NEVER. EVER. EVER. EVER. apply Minwax stain to stairs or floor or furniture until you have every speck of stain completely removed. Or else. You are left with a sticky mess. That must be paint thinned off. Washed and scrubbed and sanded AGAIN.

Then you just grab a can of paint and say, “Forget it!” and paint the stairs grey. And you aren’t sure how it will look–but at this point you don’t even care because you just need them to not be sticky and send little feet all over the house with traces of stain all over them.

Don’t get me wrong–seeing little footprints throughout the house this weekend has been sweet…even mine:) BUT–that’s just not what I was going for.

It. Has. Been. A. MESS!

Richard assures me that in the end–it will be beautiful. And the perfect fit…because it has our stamp and hand all over it. But right now…it’s quite a mess.

And last night. I sat in my driveway as the sunset and cried for the first time in a very, very, VERY long time. But not about the stain. Or the stairs. Or wishing I could go back to 3 days ago and just let the carpet folks to it as we had once planned. Instead…it was over the hard in the now of helping little ones heal…

I’ve missed every soccer game for my oldest this season because my littlest ones either need naps or they aren’t able to sit and watch without running on the field…or having a tantrum because of sensory overstimulation. On Friday we missed a Nutcracker ballet session because of dealing with lots and lots of layers…and in the mess of trying to talk through the layers and why who did what and how that hurt someone else…something important was missed by another child.

Some times I hear those awful lines that only mean commenters or the enemy himself would say…you shouldn’t have grown your family again and again if you couldn’t handle it…didn’t you know adoption was going to be full of healing–you knew what you were getting into. The list goes on to the things we can hear–but none of them truth, encouragement, love or even reality. Because the reality is that the Lord did call us to this…it is more than we can handle…but it isn’t more than He wants to handle and plans to handle for us.

I sat there–stripping off layer after layer of stain.

It’s so hard. The layers.

It looked better being that old scuffed up carpet runner. But that was taken away. And the layers could begin to come off. I wanted it to look new. But it won’t ever look that way. So paint. And it will be beautiful–but not until all those layers come off.

And Richard comes in and hears me complaining as I paint the first layer…”Look how awful this looks on the side…I’m making such a mess. This is harder than I thought it was going to be. I just want to quit.”

“Why do you want everything to be perfect when you know you are in the middle of it? It won’t be until–you’re done. It will be–we just gotta get there,” he said.

The paint brush stopped.

And I thought of my children.

“Why do I want everything to be perfect when I know we are in the middle of it? It won’t be until–we’re done. It will be–we just gotta get there.”

The layers…the peeling away…the healing…the working through the effects of past trauma…IS NOT GOING TO BE EASY…or pretty or look perfect.

I know this is true about my stairs–but why can’t I grasp and believe it about something as grand as my family and children?

Then…I stopped to get ready for a Bible study with my Laney girl tomorrow. We shared our hearts and wishes and our wants.

Her wishes…my wishes…they might never be–but still we wished them…and my heart melted when she shared hers…and it was mine too. I tucked her in and went downstairs to put together scripture memory cards for the girls in our group–and this month…focusing on His faithfulness and perseverance.

Faithfulness…

Deuteronomy 32:4 “He is the Rock. His works are perfect and all His ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is He.”

Psalm 33:4 “For the word of the Lord is right and true; He is faithful in all He does.”

Psalm 18:25 “To the faithful, You show Yourself faithful…”

Psalm 145:13 “The Lord is faithful to all His promises and loving toward all He has made.”

Psalm 57:10 “For great is Your love, reaching to the heavens; Your faithfulness reaches to the skies.”

Proverbs 3:3-4 “Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the table of your heart. Then you will win favor and a good beam in the sight of God and man.”

Perseverance…

Isaiah 40:28-29 “Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired and weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”

Romans 5:3-4 “Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”

1 Corinthians 13:7 “[Love] always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

James 1:12 “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him.”

Those scriptures–I know are for the girls. But…tonight–how much they felt FOR ME. I sat there typing them away feeling as if I was having a little revival myself.

I can’t worry about tomorrow. Or what things might look like when our kids are teenagers or after. Will healing come? Will things be easier? Will they get who they are in Him? With us? Will I remember any of this myself because oh my…some days I’d just like to be normal–not homeschooling because of a special need or staying up late to learn attachment ideas or taking off the layers and layers and layers of stuff that we just aren’t promised a clear picture of what it will look like. BUT we are given in His Word a clear picture of what it is FOR.

For His glory.

For us to know Him.

To be shaped to be like Him.

To learn to trust in His faithfulness.

To keep going because He is in us and has gone before us.

Because healing is in HIS hands and not mine…and for that I am ever so thankful.

Even in the middle of the layers—when I want it to look beautiful but it’s hard—I can step back and see the beauty even in the hard. (Although tonight the word beauty wouldn’t be my first word to use). BUT…I know I will see it. And I’m starting to. Because it’s also MY layers that must be stripped away. The first layer–giving up wanting it to not be hard…or to look pretty in between the hard…and to just learn to embrace the ashes and the beauty all together while the transforming is actually happening.

Oh how I’m learning.

And instead of throwing my hands up in the air the next time the tantrum happens on the field or sewing needle is stuck in a brother’s back (ouch!)–I want to remember these are just layers. The taking time to bend down to look in their eyes…or rock them before–and even after nap time…it’s the new paint going on. When layers and layers come off–one layer of paint won’t fully cover it. Layers and layers and layers must go back on. It will take days. Years. Maybe even forever.

But He is faithful and good–and has a plan…and I trust Him.

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

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Andrea is a stay-at-home momma of five. who loves homeschooling her kiddos. She’s also a photographer and orphan/widow advocate giving of her time to Wiphan Ministries and ministering to adoptive mommas through Created 4 Care. She truly believes the Lord can use us all right where we ALREADY are to make a big difference in this world. You can read more of her writing at Babe of My Heart.

October 13, 2014October 13, 2014

Lift Us Up

It’s still dark outside. Unbelievably, it’s quiet too. All the honking drivers must still be sleeping. It won’t be long and the streets will be busy with women in heels and cell phones, little old women in Mao jackets with straw brooms sweeping the sidewalks futilely, men chatting and smoking, and children in matching activewear on the back of bikes heading to school. We’ll be in that busyness too in a couple hours—the group of 15 Americans in matching khakis and t-shirts looking a bit confused and following a little Chinese guide without question.

Today we will be picked up by the orphanage-owned van from our hotel and go for the first day to where we will serve for the week. The foot-cover lady will likely run to meet us at the door and rush to pour us cups of hot water with leaves in it. We will watch a promotional video not unlike one a school would make to show incoming families. We’ll take a tour and see all the places they are proud to share. And, then the team will go into the rooms where they will be for the duration of the week filled with the kiddos who will become “their” babies and the ayis who will become their friends.

The team doesn’t know it yet, but it will become one of their favorite places in the world. It will be where they see Him like they never have before, a place where He will show them their own hearts in new ways.

I just heard the first honk of the morning. 5:53am and the day is beginning.

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October 10, 2014October 10, 2014

Every Bitter Thing is Sweet

Hey you, adoptive mama, adoptive daddy –

This one is for you, today.

And it’s for your little guy …or your little girl.

He sees them.

And He sees you.

{This might just be the four minutes you need to be able to breathe Him in, again.}

Every Bitter Thing is Sweet was released via Zondervan this week. Looks like it might be the read you need? Find out more here.

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Sara is a wife to Nate and a mother of five whose arms stretched wide across the ocean to Africa. After almost a decade of Christian life she was introduced to pain and perplexity and, ultimately, intimacy with Jesus. Her book, Every Bitter Thing is Sweet released October 7, 2014 via Zondervan, is an invitation — back to hope, back to healing, back to a place that God is holding for you—a place where the unseen is more real than what the eye can perceive. A place where even the most bitter things become sweet. She writes regularly at EveryBitterThingIsSweet.com.

October 8, 2014October 8, 2014

Call Now

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The Lord meets with me in that fuzzy place between awake and asleep.

It doesn’t happen every day, or every week for that matter, but it has happened enough that I know He likes to meet me then, and when I feel like I hear His voice, I can go from half snoozing to wide awake pretty quickly.

This morning, it happened…..but first, a sentence or two of background. With a large family there are always a lot of personal needs, simply because there are a lot of persons. Each child is unique, and with them stretched from 21 to 2 in age, the needs are widely varied. It’s possible to get so sucked into focusing on the needs of one that the immediate needs of the other gets pushed aside in a parent’s mind for a moment, and when they all come racing back to your memory, it can be overwhelming.

In those half-wake moments, as I heard my children start to stir in the house, I heard the Lord. It was not an audible voice, but it was resonant. The voice made no sound, but somehow it echoed.

He said “There is grace to ask today.”

The words “grace” and “ask” seemed to have been vocalized in bold, italicized and underlined. Immediately I started to pray, going down the line of each member of my family, interceding for the specific challenges that they are facing. It had energy and life on it…I went through the list several times from every angle I could, but bolder each time.

I don’t think this is just for me. There is grace for you to ask today as well. Maybe your asking, your seeking and your knocking have grown weaker over the months. The burdens have felt overwhelming and at times it felt like it would be easier to just sit down for a while.

There is grace to ask today, and today is all we have. Ask with great expectation. He is eager to hear from you.

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Randy and Kelsey Bohlender have been married for 25 years. They have nine children ranging from 21 to 2 years in age. Five are adopted, including two sets of twins. Randy and Kelsey have served as staff pastors, church planters, and ministry leaders with churches from 60 to 6,000. They have also been called ‘serial starters”, having launched a church, a house of prayer, an adoption funding non-profit, an adoption agency, and a k-12 private school.Kelsey is a student at Regent University, majoring in Government and Foreign Policy. She is accomplished speaker, vibrant mother, and makes a pretty mean batch of homemade granola. Randy grew up in rural North Dakota and is adjusting to the outside world. He enjoys things that make noise and go fast. He blogs and podcasts about leadership and family life at RandyBohlender.com. You can find them on twitter @rbohlender @kbohlender.

October 6, 2014

He Called Her “Real Mom”

I’d love to know your opinion on this one.

The other day Wenxin and I were talking, and I’m not even sure how it came up. I think I was telling him that I bet his foster mother would be so proud of him.

And then he asked.

“What about the other one?”

“The other what?” I replied.

“The other mom. You know . . . my REAL mom.” (emphasis mine)

“Oh, I see. I bet your first mom would be so proud of you, too.”

We talked for another minute or two, and as he ran out the door to go play, I said with a wink, “Hey Wenxin, don’t forget. I’m REAL, too.”

Big grin, and he was off.

So here’s the question. He’s 10 years old and adopted for three years now. Is it important for me to teach him what most people consider to be appropriate adoption language? Should he call her his first mom or his birth mom instead of his real mom? Does it really matter?

My gut tells me he should be able to call all the mothers in his life whatever seems appropriate to him — because it’s his story. My gut says I should follow his lead on this one. But he is only ten and is still making sense of his own history. On this issue, does he need guidance from me? Specifically, does he need me to choose his words?

I’m not concerned about my place in his life. I know this kid loves me. I also know I’m his third mom. I’m OK with this. And I think I can live with him calling her his real mom.

But since it’s not what’s normally done in the adoption world, I’m wondering if I’m missing something here?

I also have a real fear that some adoptive parent will correct him. It could happen, you know, cause calling the birth mom the real mom. . . those are fightin’ words in a lot of places.

I’m also pretty sure he’ll call her whatever I ask him to call her. He’s sweet and obedient. And he believes what I say about things. If I say he should call her his first mom or his birth mom, then I’m pretty sure that’s what he’ll do — for now, anyway. But do I want to make that decision for him?

So what do you think? What would you do in my place?

Waiting for all of your words of wisdom.

If you are an adult adoptee, please let your voice be heard on this one.

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In 2010, Dana fulfilled a lifelong dream when she walked on the Great Wall of China. The climb almost killed her, but the view from the top was totally worth it! On that same trip, Dana and her husband, Mike, adopted 7 1/2-year-old Wenxin. Dana blogs about older child adoption and family life at Death by Great Wall.

October 3, 2014October 3, 2014

Looking Back at Adoption

Adoption has been a precious gift in my life. To be a part of God’s redeeming and extravagant love for children, to be a part of the eternal work of the transformation of an orphan into a son or daughter–WOW! This is the ride of a life-time, and it only gets better with time–not always easier (sometimes, but not always), but definitely more powerful as the work of adoption reaches the deepest places in all of our lives.

What has gotten me so excited once again about adoption? It has been 14 years since we brought our first two children home, so you might think that the deep satisfaction and excitement might have worn into an every-day kind of thing.

But there come these special moments when I feel the Holy Spirit whispering to me, “Hey Beth, take a look at this! Are you seeing what I have been doing here? How beautiful is this?! Is not the love of God amazing?!”

1898056_10202664079836411_464559558_n-2 — Celebrating Russian Women’s Day

My daughter Kristina and I hosted a Russian tea recently with lots of Russian chocolates and other special goodies to help celebrate Russian Women’s Day.

Our guest of honor, Judy Grout who was visiting from Russia, was the missionary who taught Kristina English lessons in the orphanage. She shared the wonderful testimony about how she had been trying to get permission to minister in the orphanage our children were in for years and had been turned away repeatedly by the director. When Stephen sent her an email after finding the Vyborg Christian Center on the internet, and we developed a friendship, she went back to the director and asked if she could teach English to the two children who were being adopted by an American family.

The director agreed, and from that time on Judy has had an open invitation to minister in that orphanage. Many children have come to know the Lord, and many have experienced the love of God through this one door of adoption.

Beloved friends, we do not know what other amazing things God has on His mind when He calls us to adopt. We see that He is doing a work in us and in our child, but you can be sure that His plans reach deeper and farther than even the amazing depth of His love for your child and for you. Many of these stories won’t be told until we are together in eternity, but I am quite sure they will be told, and that our wonderful God will get all the glory. To our family, this one story is a taste of heaven.

1488295_10152004391697058_1760502225_n — Kristina and Judy

I sat there in our living room and looked at a sight that left me in awe again at who our God is.

These three beautiful young women all told a little of their stories of being adopted from Russia and Ukraine. Kristina (on the left), Elena, and Veronika sat together as friends who have been given a future and a hope through adoption. Just seeing them with those beautiful smiles spoke to me of hope and God’s extravagant love.

For those of you who are in the earlier stages of adoption and raising your children, know that there have certainly been some significant challenges in the lives of these young women and in their families. But also, be encouraged to see that in the midst of these challenges, adoption is doing it’s work in your child, and in you too! And it is a beautiful work, filled with hope and a future.

And then there is this photo–the story behind this never ceases to amaze me. It is a story of the “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine…” (Ephesians 3:20)

1981870_10152004397107058_1098329460_n — Jenny Grout with Kristina and Veronika

On the left you see our dear Russian friend Jenny. She is married to Judy’s son, Joe. They met and married in Russia and then decided to move to America so Joe could attend college. Jenny had worked, and even lived, in some of the places our children had lived. And of all the places they could go in the USA (the Grout family has no family or real connections in Georgia), they ended up in Toccoa, Georgia! Jenny became a wonderful friend to our family, and to Kristina especially. She helped her make the huge adjustment to life in America and to life in a family and to life in the kingdom.

So, here is a young woman who not only is Russian, but from the same town as our children, who God sends to help them and us in the most amazing ways. Is this not extravagant? Seriously, I would never have thought to even ask God for such a gift.

I hope that these stories encourage you dear friends. God is at work in our adoption stories.

In the mundane, day-in-day-out realities of life, it is easy to forget that what is happening is a long story being told by the One who is The Beginning and The End of every one of these beautiful stories of sacrificial love.

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Beth has been married to her husband Stephen for 27 years. They have seven children, ages 18-24. Several years after giving birth to three girls God called their family to the adventure and blessing of adoption. In 2000, they brought home a brother and sister, ages 5 and 10, from Russia. Then they returned to the same orphanage 18 months later and brought home two more brothers, ages 7 and 10. Beth’s heart has been deeply and forever changed as she has watched the love of Father God poured out on her whole family through adoption. She leads Hope at Home, a ministry dedicated to help adoptive and foster parents encounter the Father’s heart for their families, partnering with God to transform orphans into sons and daughters. For more parenting insight and encouragement in the Lord, go to Hope at Home.

October 1, 2014October 1, 2014

Together called to God music

setyourmindonthingsabove He was two years old when we first started jamming to what our kids eventually termed “God music.” I had no smart phone then; cds were futuristic in and of themselves. I’d load up our minivan with a toddler, a newborn baby, and my coffee and what seemed like 200 bags of some sort and we’d listen to Him as we went to the grocery store or drove to the playground or made our way to some playgroup or Grandma’s house.

A funny thing happened though. On the rare occasion that I was alone (I know, shocking), I was still listening to God music. When I was making dinner, I was singing God music—and not in a I-can’t-get-Let-it-Go-out-of-my-head sort of way. I was engaging with God’s word, memorizing His promises, thinking of His message to me…through some cds I bought for the kids.

10 years later, and we’re still listening to our God music. In fact, Seeds Family Worship just released their newest CD last week—The Word of God. It’s a little more grown up than some of their earlier cds which is perfect because we’re all a little more grown up ourselves around here.

One track has pretty much been on repeat in my iTunes for the last week—“Your Life is Hidden”/Colossians 3:2-3. After…maybe…the 134th time listening to it, this genius has memorized the verse that is the only words in the whole song. And, there’s something pretty awesome about that because it’s always with me. So, no matter if I’m driving or shopping or on the phone or reading or coming or going or whatever…it’s there, ready for me to quickly pull out of that mental file cabinet when I need it.

A husband and wife team—Philip and Jessica Morlan—sing the song together which I love because without even using words, their voices share how the truth in those two verses is for me alone but also for us as a couple. I have died to myself and now my life is hidden with Christ in God; likewise, we have died to ourselves together and we are together hidden with Christ in God.

In a perfect world, every couple would know this song. For now, I’ll be happy with every couple at Together Called knowing this song.

Morlans Philip and Jessica Morlan have 5 children, 2 of whom joined their family via adoption. They are passionate about connecting families to Jesus through God’s Word and teaching families how to disciple the children God has placed in their family. Philip is in full-time ministry with Seeds Family Worship as Ministry Director and Family Pastor. Jessica is a home school mom and also works rocks it as the Ministry Coordinator with Seeds Family Worship. And, this March, they are heading up North from their happy place in Tennessee to plant some seeds at Together Called and connect all of us to Jesus through praise and worship.

I can’t wait to meet them. And, I can’t wait for the God music. My kids are going to be so jealous.

Another reason to be counting down the days…

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October 1, 2014September 16, 2014

Lullaby

I cried when it came on the radio again tonight.

I wonder if I always will.

It was the anthem of our time together, Little One, the drum-beat that I hope somehow made its way deep into your bones. Deep into your heart.

How he loves us. Oh, how he loves us. Oh, how he loves.

Day and night, rocking and walking and snuggling, I sang you all kinds of songs about Jesus, but always this one. It was ours.

I chose this one on purpose, Little One, not because it is my favorite song of all time, but because if there is one thing I want you to know, one thing I want you to remember, it is this.

He loves you.

I miss you, Little One. The way you rubbed your face back and forth against my body when you were tired. The way you quieted in my arms– your heartbeat, your breath synching with my own.

I love you, Little One. I fell hard and fast the moment that I met you, the moment that I first held you—tentative because you were so, so tiny, the moment that I kissed your head and it all felt like pretend.

In my mind, our time together was too short, but my mama-heart knows that for your mama, it was so very long. And for you, Little One, it was just a blink that, if all goes well, your conscious mind will never even remember.

I hope I helped you learn that the world is safe.

I hope I helped you learn that someone comes when you cry.

I hope I helped you learn that mamas can be trusted.

I hope I helped you learn what it feels like to be loved, treasured, cherished.

You were never mine, Little One, in the same way that even my own daughter isn’t mine.

You were made for Him.

You are His.

Know this, Little One, if you remember nothing else.

As much as I love you, as much as your mama loves you, he loves you more.

How he loves you. Oh, how he loves you. Oh, how he loves.

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Shannon is mom to an amazing seven year old. She is a Christian, a licensed foster parent, a kindergarten teacher and a huge advocate of connecting church people and little people in need of forever families. She blogs at A Little Bit of Everything.