And now the question comes, "What now?" My heart is broken. I lay crumpled and beaten down, and I'm hurting, in pain. And I cry out to Him, "Abba, I can't do this anymore! Please, please help!" Because asking to be broken is not the same as experiencing it. Sometimes I wonder that people can't see it written all over my face. I'm broken.
I've been healing from this loss of a child, this loss of David as a part of our lives. I've been at the point that I'm ready to move on, have needed to move on. And for the past few weeks, we've been considering two other referrals. Two beautiful boys that need love and a home and a family. And now, it comes down to it, making the choice of which boy to make ours. This week, preparing a care package, planning to accept a new son, it aches deep inside, a wrenching debilitating loss. In choosing a son, I feel less that we are choosing who to make a child of ours, and more as if we're choosing who to leave behind. To add to the pain, I'm sending items that I've set aside for David. As much as I try, I cannot convince my broken heart that I am adding a son- I feel instead as if I'm losing two.
And yet, I know that I can't adopt them all. And my heart grieves for those left behind, just as my Abba's does. Break my heart for what breaks Yours, that's done. And now I ask for healing and grace and peace in this monumental pain, this insufferable suffering. There are times when having my eyes wide open is agony, and I can only ask my Abba to cradle me close as I grieve.