Tuesday, October 18, 2011
31 Days: Letting Go of Control
Often, it is something we would have never chosen on our own.
Can we be okay with that? Do we really trust enough to believe that our ideas are meaningless and that we are safe in the hands of the One who sees it all, knows it all, created it all?
I like to tell myself that I do trust like that, but then I start to think of heartbreaking things and terrifying things so I just stop thinking. I don't want to go there, because it's too complicated and it gives me the blues.
And then I think of my children, who were never asked if they were on board with leaving their birth families. They didn't sign up to be estranged from their culture or severed from their roots. They didn't agree to a life where they might never completely fit.
A few weeks ago the most precious little boy played with Silas and Ruby in the waiting room of the doctor's office. After several minutes, he looked up at me and said, "Are you her Mama?" I told him I was. His eyebrows scrunched together. "Then why she black?"
I had to laugh a little. He was so innocent in his asking. He had never conceived of such a thing. Ruby kept right on playing, but I know the day will come when she'll turn to watch my reaction. She'll stand in wait of what I'll say and tune her ear to how I'll explain it.
Just this past weekend, Calvin said to me out of the blue (as always), "Why do I have to be so different? I'm the only one in my class who is not an American." I assured him that he is an American, but I knew what he meant. I wanted to dodge the issue, if I'm being honest, because though it's always important to have these talks, it's typically not fun.
The questions come without warning and there are no easy answers. I understand that my babies experienced forfeit that they can't even wrap their minds around yet, and I know the day is coming when they will. Will they be able to trust that God allowed pain in their lives in order to bring about His full purpose in them?
My conversation with Calvin took a turn when he said, "Last night in the middle of the night I couldn't sleep, so I put on my head lamp and started to read." (fyi, this was news to me.) "I opened up the Bible and I read, 'Man looks at the outside, but God sees the true heart'. I turned off my light and went back to sleep with the biggest smile on my face and I couldn't stop thinking about it." I asked him what he thought as he fell back asleep. He said, "I thought, I'm different, but I'm perfect. I'm different, but I'm perfect. I'm different, but I'm perfect."
That right there is God showing up in the middle of the quiet night to make His power known in the life of one of his children. I had no idea that Calvin was struggling with these things at school, but God knew he was and He knew he would, from the beginning of time. He knew these days would come and that the questions would cast their haze over the hearts of my babies. These thoughts break my heart a little, but can I really, truly believe that they break the heart of Jesus even more? Can I fathom that His love for them puts mine to shame?
So He knew the pain would come, and still they sleep right now, just down the hall from me. Gifts that I did nothing to deserve. Gifts that I might not have asked for on my own. They are grace embodied, jammied up in little beds.
Sometimes God makes hard choices for us. I want to rest in that tonight.
*For the rest of the Letting Go series, click here.