He was 4 months old. He was just getting to that stage where he knew when we were leaving the room. He would recognize when we were gone and when we’d return. And, he had just started doing this pathetic but adorably sweet little thing where his bottom lip would quiver when we walked out as if we were leaving him forever.
But then we did. We left him forever.
We each took turns squeezing him, kissing his chubby cheeks, and through tear-filled eyes whispered “I love you…I love you. We will miss you so much.”
We handed him over to his relative – the woman who would now squeeze him, kiss his chubby cheeks, and tell him how much she loves him – and we started walking back to our car. We turned back to catch a glimpse of him one last time and his bottom lip was quivering…my heart shattered in that moment. A heartbreak I had never experienced before.
My husband and I climbed into his truck and through sobs, pulled away from that sweet little boy who we had picked up from the hospital at just 2 days old and had called “son” for the first 4 months of his life.
Our friends had taken our 4 year old biological daughter swimming for the afternoon so that my husband and I could bring D to his new home…his new family. They had told us to take as much time as we’d like…go to dinner…hang out alone…take some time to gather ourselves as they too were familiar with the heartache of loving and letting go of a foster child.
As we drove, the tears continued to come. How can we stop for dinner like this? I don’t even have an appetite. I felt weak. The pain is so fresh and creeps back into the pit of me as I recall these moments.
How did we get through that? How were we ever okay to say yes to another placement again? To take another child into our home and family…to let our guard down…to be vulnerable…to get attached after having experienced THAT?
How did we get through it? How could we do it again?
We couldn’t on our own. This type of thing was not natural…the loving and letting go. The giving of ourselves expecting nothing in return. The sacrificial love needed in the world of foster care. We weren’t built to do this by ourselves. We need Jesus. Jesus knows of our suffering. He suffered in our place. Jesus knows of the giving of yourself. He gave Himself for all of humanity. Jesus knows of sacrificial love. He IS sacrificial love.
And because Jesus first loved us…first suffered…first gave Himself…first loved sacrificially, we can do it time and time again until He calls us elsewhere. The loving and letting go. The giving of ourselves expecting nothing in return. The sacrificial love that is so very needed. The handing over of 4-month-old babies. The quivering bottom lips and the tears. The lost appetites and tear-stained cheeks. The shattered hearts.
We will do that. Count us in. Over and over again. Because we know that Jesus will pick up the pieces, rub his life-giving salve on our wounds, mend us back together, take us by the hand, and walk with us back into the brokenness.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, the comfort me.” Psalm 23:4
Lisa is a biological, foster, and soon-to-be adoptive mother to two children. She and her husband, J.J., are recovering comfort-seekers who are passionate about stepping into the uncomfortable and broken places to shine the light of Christ. Lisa’s blog Mess Into A Message can be followed on Instagram and Facebook where she shares about foster care, adoption, infertility, and life’s daily musings.