Significance

Malachi is a sneaky toddler. He gets into things so fast. I am pretty sure he is Houdini. The other day I was cleaning the dishes and I noticed that Malachi had grabbed the extension for the vacuum and was using it to swipe things off the fridge that he couldn't reach. He had several alphabet letter magnets in his hand. So what did I do? I, like the good mom that I am, just let him continue his business.
 Nope.
I practically lunged at him and took the magnets from him. And then I cried. Yep I took children's alphabet magnets that are meant to be played with from a child and then I cried. My proudest moment of course. ;)
Have you ever had an object, something so small and insignificant to the outside world but to you its significance is great?
That's what these magnets are to me. They aren't magical. They aren't shiny or glittery. They really aren't even that nice looking. They are just your ordinary dollar store magnets. Most of the letters are missing and they aren't strong enough to hold anything. But these magnets, the very few that are left, hang on the refrigerator every day as a reminder of something sweet.
They spell out two precious names. Two names that have forever changed our lives. One spells out the name of a boy we have had the greatest pleasure of calling Ours forever. The other spells out a name of a girl we had wished and still hope to call ours forever.
Can you guess which group of letters he had?
It's no great mystery to why I have such an emotional attachment to those letters.
Those magnets, which I see multiple times a day often bring tears and sadness but they also serve as a reminder of the joy and love that cant be described for a child who is not my own. It is a hope that I am holding on to, a reminder to pray, to lay myself before God and ask for His will, not mine. It is a Promise from God that He has never left my side, He is right there holding me, guiding me all the way through this season.
So there they sit on the refrigerator, up high, never letting me forget the goodness of Him and His Promise.

Beauty

Tonight Doug and I and a couple other pastors had the privilege of praying over and anointing with oil a special family. I of course was watching Malachi the whole time so I didn't get to be involved as much but something Doug had shared really stuck out to me.
A few years ago Doug and I were anointed with oil and prayed over for our infertility, for my womb to be opened. When we were being prayed over I had high expectations of overnight supernatural healing. I thought this would do it, I'll be pregnant before I know it. Well, we are coming up on 6 years of not being able to conceive. My womb hasn't been healed and opened. Something that at times, is unbelievably hard to cope with. But with out this part, we would never had started fostering, Malachi would never had been placed in our home.
What Doug shared was that sometimes healing doesn't come or doesn't come the way we expect it to. If healing does occur it's not something that happens overnight, in a blink of an eye. It might be that God chooses to keep you in that circumstance so He can use it and you to show His glory. He turns it into something beautiful. He took our heartache and gave us something so much better. And for that I wouldn't change. It's something I constantly need to be reminded of.

Remembrance

Every day Malachi climbs onto the back of the couch and points out everyone in the pictures that hang on the wall behind it. They are our family pictures. He points out daddy, mommy, himself and then he comes to a particular picture. My favorite picture. It is the one of him holding his sister. He points and says "baby". My heart breaks and warms at the same time. 
I want him to know who that beautiful baby is in the pictures. The one who looks just like him. I want him to know his baby sister. I want him to know how much he loved and adored her. How he helped feed her, how he gave her kisses and hugs constantly.  I want him to know that even though she is no longer with us and may never come back to us, that she is still part of our family and will always be a daughter, a sister. I want him to know her name.
 So every time he points at her picture, which is often, I say her name. I let him know that is his sister. I remind him of the time she was in our home, that they were the best 3 weeks. I let him know how much we love her, how often we pray for her, how we hope that one day we can be made a whole family again.

We didn't just lose a daughter, Malachi lost a sister. He may never get to see her again, but I want him to remember her and the time they shared. I want him to know that part of our story, his story. 

For I know..

I have been ripped down to my bones, shredded piece by piece. Laid out bare before the Lord. And I am slowly being put back together. There is hope on the other side. There are truths that I've  known that are becoming real in my heart. There is a certainty that all I can do is be thankful for.

For I know that my Redeemer lives,
And He shall stand at last on the earth
Job 19:25

Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever -Hebrews 13:8

Oh man, my hope and promise I am clinging to. He is ever so present and constant. He has never left my side. I still have days where it's unbearable and tears never stop flowing, but Jesus has been so good. He is working in me, renewing me, and strengthening me. My desire for Him is growing. The calling He has placed on my heart to grow our family through foster care is growing. I am growing. I am ever so thankful for the goodness of God and is outpouring of His love on my life.

Psalm 6:6-7 

I am weary with my groaning; 

All night I make my bed swim; 

I drench my couch with tears, 

My eye wastes away because of grief. 

These verses say it best to how my soul feels. And I hate it. 

I hate that everything is clouded by the deep sorrow I have for what we have gone through.

I hate that when there are things I should be rejoicing in, I struggle to find joy. I hate that when our son's adoption was finalized, internally I was stricken with sadness. I hate that sitting in a room full of my friends babies brought me to tears. I hate that seeing certain baby items causes a war of emotions inside of me. I hate that one moment I am enjoying a nice lunch with my husband and son and the next I am sobbing in the car. I hate that I am not the same as I was. I hate that my relationship with God is not the same as it was. I hate not knowing what our next step will be in growing our family and when the appropriate time is to pursue that. We have to renew our foster training classes by the beginning of the year to keep our home open. We don't know if we will, and time is creeping up. So much time as gone by. I hate that so much time has gone by.