Dying to self

I wish I could say that I am posting my first blog in over a year for a joyful reason, while there has been great joy this last year and I have A LOT to share with you, this blog needed to be written. My heart needed to pour out on these pages as a wound I once thought was healed was ripped open and left bleeding. I’m trying to stitch it back up as I type this. Praying this will be soul healing for me…

I have heard that the greatest journey you will take as a Christian is the one of dying to self. I used to think this was something that just happened. Once you were saved you were made new, but much like the things my husband and I “upcycle” to make into something beautifully new, it takes time and can be a long journey. It’s a process that happens in more ways than one. It’s not just dying to the things that were old and the chains that held you down before your new life, it’s dying to yourself. Its dying to the selfish desires and carrying your cross with honor for The Lord. Its asking yourself over and over again “what would Jesus do?” It’s fixing your eyes on things above and not within, even if it hurts and even if its not what you want to do. It’s the hardest self-sacrifice you will make but will also be the most rewarding.

When we said goodbye to baby J, it took me a while to come to grips with the idea that my God was still good in the midst of my deep pain. We had done everything right and yet he was still being taking from us. I wrestled a lot with God. I even “broke up” with Him if you will, but that didn’t last long because before I knew it I needed Him. I needed to understand His reason and I desperately needed His love and comfort to help me heal otherwise that was going to be the end of me and our journey to becoming parents. I couldn’t let it swallow me whole. Somewhere in my grief I learned to let go and trust God, probably because I didn’t really have any other choice and fighting Him was just to exhausting and getting me nowhere during that season. But I survived, we survived it as a family and over the last two years got to love baby J from a far and in a new beautiful way that I didn’t know existed. Beauty came from those ashes friends and I was okay. We were adjusting to this new relationship and rocking it as two families who deeply loved this one little boy. We were taking a situation that was filled with so much grief and pain and making it beautiful. We were ready to celebrate with them on his adoption this last month and little did they know, we were planning a HUGE “gotcha day” celebration and photoshoot to celebrate a beautiful redemption story but one ordinary day it all changed and just came crashing down in the most unexpected way.

My phone rings and I hear the news that baby J is being taken from his family and brought back to NC foster care. I hear a desperate mother asking me to help get him back into our home until things can be sorted out. Words jumbled in so much pain I could barely understand what was going on. Grasps of air filled the silence as she tried to calm down and like a storm the emotions came flooding in…the why’s, the how’s, the what if’s and the deep ache for a hurting momma, I couldn’t get to, to hug.

 

We have spent the last three months navigating this season with his family as we rushed to try and get re-certified as foster parents while they desperately tried to fix it all and bring baby J back to their home. A deep desperation my heart remembers. That internal plea with the Father to please move this mountain on our behalf and this end in our favor….I remember this place. I remember it like it was yesterday and I remember The Father’s “no” I just didn’t imagine we’d be grieving over the life of this little boy...again.

We waited desperately for a call on the court day that would determine if he would be able to be back with his family. I fought so hard to not text them every five minutes and be a pest. I was rooting for them. I was cheering them on in the trenches and praying that this ended in their favor. Desperately praying that God intervene but as the day went on and my phone remained quiet, I knew. I knew God’s answer was “no” and I didn’t know what to do next, so I did nothing. 

I waited until the following morning to call them. I made sure my heart was ready to help however I could. You need me to be angry? Done. You need me to be a shoulder to cry on? Done. You need me to sit like Jesus and be quiet? Done, even though I am not good at that, I will do my best 😉 lol
I was ready to face whatever was said on the other end of the line but when I heard the words come out of her mouth, my heart sank. I guess I still had hope that it was all going to work in their favor but God's answer was no.

The last three months have been full of pain, lies, miscommunication, love, desperation and prayers, so many prayers I think my knees have permanent imprints. There have been selfish prayers, angry prayers, desperate prayers, prayers for intervention, favor, help, understanding and peace and comfort leading up to the court date, but God’s answer was no for his family. They were able to meet the couple that was loving and caring for him and he is happy and safe. The couple was much like my husband and I three years ago. Two people desperately searching for parenthood in the midst of infertility and as I can imagine, prayerfully hoping that baby J wasn’t going to be taken from them. I remember those prayers, I remember that desperation to and the flood of willingness to be open and invite the family in, so they wouldn’t feel like he wasn’t loved. I remember it friends. I remember it all and yet I still prayed for him to come back to us. I sat in my closet engulfed in raw emotions that I thought I had dealt with years ago. Crying out to The Father to please bring him back to us. I want him back. I want him here with our family, a home at this point I was sure he wasn't suppose to have been ripped away from to begin with. Baby J knows us, we loved him long before these new people did (insert  my selfishness creep in) How could they possibly love him more than we do? How could they possibly be the best option? We loved him first

But God answered me in the midst of my many raw emotions and it wasn't even close to what I wanted. He answered me loud and clear and it took me two hours on my knees in the closet to finally saying NO GOD! and another two hours cleaning the minivan from top to bottom exhausting myself in this Southern heat before He finally reached my heart and I broke down and cried in the front yard and prayed my hardest prayer yet....remove my momma heart from the situation and let Your will be know to me...
As our son woke up from his nap my mind was able to be distracted but I think God knew I needed to hold my "beauty from ashes" in my own arms to remind me that He is good even when it doesn't feel good. I was brought back to our long journey to him as I watched him climb all over the dogs and play. I remembered the pain, the needles, the pokes, the joy, loss and tear stained prayers that seemed to go unanswered by God. I remembered the dark places I walked on the brink of loosing faith and trust in God and then it all changing one day because of a selfless woman's love for her son. Because she chose life and to put herself second, I was finally able to become a mother and I couldn't help but to think of the new mother to our baby J. Was her story like ours? Full of pain and loss? Was this her turn? Before I knew it God was bring me back to the pain of loosing baby J and the pain of ripping a child from a safe and happy home and I knew.....I knew he wasn't meant to be with us either. God finally got through to me and I just knew we couldn't take our baby J from his new mom and dad. He is safe, happy and with a Christian loving family...selfishness aside what more could my momma heart want for him?
I desperately want to be selfish. I want him here. I want him in my arms again and with his daddy. I wanted The Father’s plan to be us if it wasn't his family. I wanted that ending but it just wasn’t for us and that’s okay because I know that He is good and He has a plan that I cant even begin to fathom. He has shown me what kind of beauty can come from broken things. I see it in my son everyday so I guess you could say this is me dying to self. This is me dying to my selfish ambitions to bring him here and trusting that the peace The Father left me with is that kind of peace Paul talked about in Philippians, the one that transcends all understanding.
The peace that I can rest in knowing my first baby is loved, happy, safe and right where he is meant to be even if that’s not with us...

(Farewell my sweet boy, I hope you know that you weren't just blessed with one but three mothers that loved you so very deeply. Thank you for being a part of my journey to my son, I pray your are the beauty from ashes for your new foster family and you never forget how loved you are. I will always hold you in my heart.)