I sit in the airline
seat with my eyes closed and tears slowly escaping. I wonder if anyone notices the drops of
sorrow that come so unexpectedly. When I
closed my eyes I had planned on catching up on lost sleep over the busy week,
but instead my ears become heightened to the noise of the chatter around me;
two little kids sitting next to their mother.
Her soothing tone and their sweet giggles instantly flash me back to
another time, another mom and her two sweet boys. Without warning my mind
flashes back to the many flights I flew with my two little ones all those years
ago. I sit wondering if the mother next
to me recognizes how precious these memory making moments are and how fast time
slips through your hands. I wonder if
she realizes how unimportant it is to control and how important it is to love.
My mind wanders through its’ bank of memories of the times I
was given the opportunity to fly alone with my two little boys to visit
relatives every summer. I smile at the
memories of layovers, bloody noses, items left on planes, screaming babies,
crabby stewardesses, rambunctious boys, no cell phones, enlisting strangers for help, stress, and of
course, the fun of telling the stories afterwards. I see it all now, opportunities for
memories. I have this keen sense
of how the whole of life is just that; opportunities to create memories.
My memory bank of my children is filled with good and bad;
way more good than bad, but because I am a flawed human being there are some bad
mixed in with the good. It is
interesting to me how most of the bad that comes to mind is when I needed to be
in control of the moment and let my anger be the controlling agent. Oh, how I wish I could redo some of those
moments, but I can’t; the past is the past.
I can only correct things for the future. And, I will always be grateful that I began
learning these lessons before it was too late.
Seven years ago when Ryan was a freshman, God began to show me how to enjoy Ryan’s
uniqueness and see it as a gift and stop trying to change what God had created.
It didn’t happen overnight, but rather,
it was a slow progression of enjoyment versus frustration. Raising Ryan taught me such an invaluable
lesson; love fiercely, but hold loosely.
His death was the ultimate lesson in
holding loosely.
I sit on this plane with
tears seeping through my closed lids and I have a sense of all the strangers surrounding
me and wonder how they were loved? How
are they being loved? Since Ryan left
this world I have this intense desire to look into people’s eyes to
try and discern what is really there. My care for them is so much more heightened.
This last week I was in Florida at a conference on
Independent Living for youth in foster care.
There were probably 400 or so youth who attended that were either in
foster care or had aged out. I found
myself looking into many of their eyes and wondering; what brought you here? Have you ever felt loved? Unfortunately, I saw the same haunted look in
many of their eyes; the look of pain, hurt, anger and an utter sense of
loneliness. There were those that tried
to cover that pain by being loud, or being noticed through their dress or their
voice. There were those that appeared to
want to hide through their slumped shoulders and diverted eyes. But the pain was evident, regardless of their
mask of choice. My heart broke for them
and prayed for them as I continued to see them throughout the conference. Conversely, there were a few youth that stood
out and I had to wonder, what made the difference? Why have they risen above their peers and
appear to have made their way above the pain?
I was able to sit on a couple sessions where some of these youth
spoke. Each story was the same. Each one of these youth that were catapulted
into foster care eventually had someone come along side of them that loved them
fiercely but held them loosely. I marvel
at the power of love and the power of relationship. I guess this is why I take my love for the
Lord and His love for me and that personal relationship I have with him so
seriously; it can move mountains and seriously change the world if we let it.
I am forever a work in progress of learning how to love fiercely,
but hold loosely. I want to grasp every opportunity God gives me to love those
around me and allow God to shape the memory by being an active, obedient
participant. My tears have dried. I’m feeling grateful for the family God has given
me; Tom, Luke
and Amanda and will continue to love them fiercely and allow God
to show me how to hold them loosely so that He can do His beautiful work in
them. I am also grateful for the gift of
my job to love on youth that find themselves in foster care and then have no
place to go from there. I find it
amazing how the birth of my son Ryan all those years ago and now his death, have been
part of God’s preparation for me to
understand deeply how I can trust Him enough to love others fiercely,
yet hold them loosely into His care.
Only God.
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