Saturday, February 17, 2018

Midnight Conversations

Abba? I have a question.

Go ahead, My child.

Why did You call me to this? Give me a womb that didn't work but a heart so big it begged to be filled? Why did You ask me to do the impossible? To mother children who come from such hard places that it makes me want to tantrum with the unfairness of it all?  To see them suffer with the horrible scars of caregivers before and not be able to do anything about it? I'm just me. I'm not Superwoman. I'm not really that much of a mom, truth be told. I'm not sure I'm up to the task, and this one's a doozy. Why choose me?

My child, that's more than one question.

I see you quirking your eyebrow at Me. I created language, and know very well how to parse it, dear one. [chuckling] Much like you, when your children try to do the same with you. Very well. I will grant that it's several questions along the same vein, and I would never turn back from an open dialogue.

Do you remember when the possibility first was brought up of those three little ones coming to you?

Yes, Abba. There was no question that they needed us.

Did you think I didn't see your heart? You already loved them. They were your nieces. There was no question that you would take care of them. They needed you. Your only hesitation was on whether your brother would follow through. And, exactly as you expected, he didn't...but by then the girls were safe with you. You did not hesitate for care for those essentially orphaned. You gave out of the abundance of your heart.

Abba, this still doesn't explain why.

How many times have you told your friends of the fierceness of an adoptive mother's love? You had that in you. I knew you did. You've met and connected with other moms with nothing more than that between you. "How cool is that," you said, when you read a novel—

I knew You were going to bring that up.

[laughs] Do you really think it was an accident you read that book and loved that story, of a couple taking in five children who needed parents? Do you think it was an accident that you loved the stories of the O'Malleys and their intentional family, carved out of foster care? No, My child, it was not. Your heart has always been that huge. I know. I made it.

You're talking in riddles, Abba.

Your big heart has taken quite a beating in the last few weeks, hasn't it? You ache deeply tonight and that's why you come to Me with this line of questions. Your children have hard places that hurt them. In some cases, that hurt them still. Their pain wounds you. Comes with that big heart, I'm afraid. It goes big or it goes home.

But I really suck at being a mom. I'm short-tempered and cross and, quite frankly, I really don't know what I'm doing. I think You might have goofed.

That's because you've forgotten to go home, dear one. And I don't goof. You don't suck. See this? You're where you need to be right now. I know how it ravages your soul that the ones you love don't see themselves for who they really are, but dear girl, neither do you. That makes the damage worse. Start here, with Me, and the burdens become easier. They are not yours to hold and carry. The weight is far too much for you. Why do you think you're constantly so weary? Let Me do the work. My shoulders are big enough. The sooner you rest in who you are in Me, loved for who you are, and your value in that, the more confidently you will display that to the daughters you love and model it for them.

You were called not because you were perfect, nor because you had mad skillz, nor because you were Superwoman. You were called because you open your heart and your arms and you love, because you didn't say no to opening your heart wider to more love. And when I asked for you to stretch wider, knowing what was to come, you said, "More love."

That is what I don't want you to forget. You were called because you know how to love.

Yes, I know all too well how opening wide for love can hurt. When it does, your Refuge is here. With Me.

I promise you, it is worth it all.

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