Three small, noisy, adorable children entered into my life and left soon after.
So, it's not that I miss them. It's not that I want to be back where I was one week ago--listening to the whining, watching the house crumble apart, stepping on hard and colorful plastic. I'm good, I can handle not dealing with that.
However, I have something more than "Missing." I have a deep yearn. I only want the best for them. They were the sweetest and most polite children I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. And surely we had our difficult times. There were moments where I grew bitter and angry against their own mother. When her own child spat in my face, I wondered spitefully: "Where is your mother, child? Why isn't she the one putting up with these tantrums? Why me, of all the people on this earth, taking care of you? A sad, little confused mind..."
And that's all he was. Just a very confused soul. He doesn't know where he's going to wake up. He doesn't know where his mommy is. He's never even met his father.
I just can't imagine. I can't...
These things are what gave me grace for him. I had to. It's wasn't his fault that his mother couldn't pull herself together enough to take care of her kids. It's not their fault. And so I clung to that as I carried on throughout each day with our rough moments.
The one I miss the most is the smallest. He had the most contagious smile. He grinned, and your heart just melted. I miss him more than anything. I can't stop thinking about the world he's about to grow up in. I think of his little feet, where they may walk. His little hands, what they may touch. And his little heart, and what it might feel. I wish I could give them the world. I want only the best for all of them, but I have to trust God that He knows what He's doing in sending these babies to where He has them. I can't stop feeling angry, however. They deserve better. I wish it didn't have to be like this.
I wish they could have the childhood that I had. Growing up in Jesus' Word, going to a sweet, Christian school, attending church every Sunday. I want that for them so, so badly.
But I know that is not the life God intended for them to have. And He could very well take a hold of their lives and gear them towards Him. It's been done. It's just going to be hard.
That's my prayer for tonight, and for my personal days to come:
Jesus, be with my temporary babies. Place Your hand on their hearts, so that a seed will be planted in their minds, to grow to love and glorify You. Thank you for the time I had getting to know them. I know that you are in control of everything. Please protect the oldest, He's feisty and strong-willed, guard his heart of impurities. Lay Your blessings on the girl--Lord, I know she's shy and skittish. Shield her from evil, God. And finally for the tiny one. He's so small and fragile. I pray His feet walk on the grass of green pastures, and that his soul is filled Your sweet-tasting streams.
In Your Precious Name,
~Amen
Blessings to all, thank you for all the prayers invested in these little people.
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