The Silent Ones

We are a community of mothers who love our children powerfully and passionately. Who want and dream and envision only the best for them and their future.  And together, when we see first-hand how difficult this job of parenting can sometimes be, we stick together.  We are a tribe of warrior mamas who defend each other in the fiercest battles.  Sisters who support one another with practical resources during the most difficult seasons.  Kindred spirits who refuse to let another one fall.  We encourage one another, as often as necessary, to keep pressing on. 

Some of us have children with chronic or life-threatening health issues. The ones whose children are facing such a terrifying medical diagnosis, that we know, intuitively, that there is no way we can do this by ourselves.  And when we openly ask our community of mothers for help, the response is almost always immediate and powerful.  Neighbors bring meals.  Church leaders and family members gather to pray.  Friends wear the special t-shirt that symbolizes their esprit de corps . . . their camaraderie.  Mothers who are further along in the journey, those of us who have traveled this way before, share our experiences and hard-earned wisdom, extending a hand up to those of us who are just starting out.  We are reminded in so many ways that we are not alone.

Some of us call ourselves the lucky ones, the mamas of children with genetic disorders or developmental delays or heart defects. The ones who have the incomparable privilege of watching God’s plan unfold in unexpected and miraculous ways. (1)

Some of us have intentionally chosen the hard and rocky path.  We have stepped into the brokenness of foster care and adoption, opening our arms and our homes to welcome children who have been traumatized, neglected, abused, forgotten. Children with immense emotional and behavioral challenges that wreak havoc in our families.  

At the beginning, we were excited about where this journey would take us, knowing that we, too, were the lucky ones.  We just knew that we would have the incomparable privilege of watching God’s plan unfold in unexpected and miraculous ways. But now, years later, our blog posts have become fewer and fewer.  Our posts and pictures on social media are pretty much non-existent.  Once upon a time we were the most vocal, the most passionate, the biggest advocates for orphaned and vulnerable children!  But now?  Now we have become the silent ones.

What Kind of Story is That?

The day I had been dreading is finally here.  The day that no mother should ever have to experience.  They day I say goodbye to this precious child I hold in my arms.  He is the temporary treasure that the Lord had entrusted to me to love and protect and nurture a year and half ago.  I knew he would not be with me forever.  I knew that  my role, this chapter in his life, would some day be over.  But knowing it does not make it any easier.  The heart does not always listen to the facts; it opens wide and gives itself away, knowing the whole time that doing so will cause it to some day break.  But it courageously extends its arms anyway, undeterred by the inevitable.

The sign on the door says, “Welcome Home!” which makes a little piece inside of me cringe.  “Home.”  They can call it a home.  They can pretend it’s a home.  But can it really be a home if no family lives there?  Of course the staff are all professionals, skilled and thoroughly equipped to meet his every need.  Nurses, a nutritionist, a physical therapist and a case manager.  Someone to take him to all of his doctors’ appointments and someone else to give him a bath and wash his beautiful curly hair.  I am so thankful that there are places like this for children like him.  Places where he will be able to grow and thrive and reach his fullest potential.

But still, it grieves me that he will now have a rotating cast of professionals caring for him.  That he will no longer have a mother.  Has that sweet face received its last kiss?  Will anyone ever hold him in their arms and rock him to sleep?  Will he ever know what the words “I love you” mean?

Is this what the story is all about?  Where it all ends?  What about the happy ending?  Stories are supposed to leaving you feeling good when they end.  They are supposed to have meaning.  They are supposed to include love and family and home.  What kind of story is this one, anyway?