I created this space as a place for me to share these loves and passions of mine; what makes my heart beat and colors my days alive. My hope is that this blog is filled with the realness, the rawness, the beautiful, the heart stirring, gut aching, shakey nervousness, slow and pensive, wild and thriving thoughts and moments of LIFE.
Dear Foster Mama who had to say goodbye,
I am so sorry. Your pain is real. Your grief is real. Whether or not “we signed up for this” doesn’t negate the feelings. Remember that. Commit it to your heart. Don’t let the enemy’s lies tell you otherwise.
Thank you for being willing to do one of the hardest things you can do. To give your whole heart to the one who was never “yours”, but actually WAS yours in every way, knowing that your worst fears very likely would play out; (s)he’d leave.
You probably don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing now. Your brain feels foggy. A piece of your life is missing. I wish I could tell you I had the answers for what’s next, but I don’t. What you’re walking through is like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life. The pain is overwhelming. The regret, the lies, the sorrow, the soul crushing reality… it’s too much to handle. So don’t try to handle it. Jesus is waiting for you, with open arms, to give it all to Him. Lean on Him.
Cry out, pray, read your Bible and learn more about God’s character, even when you don’t feel like it. Go to counseling. Accept that it’s real grief and it hurts and the feelings are valid and should be felt. Don’t worry about what other people think about how you’re “handling the loss”. Extend grace when your people don’t know how to walk with you well through this season. But don’t shut them out. Know that it will seem like people have moved on, they have, but that doesn’t mean you need to. Look through photos and videos. Talk about them, a lot. Start new hobbies, travel, learn new games, watch new shows. Take all the time you need to heal.
It doesn’t seem like it now, but one day, little by little, you’ll experience peace. The crushing pain will lift. The hurt won’t, but the overwhelming, hurts to breathe pain will. It will randomly return like a wave, but you’ll get through it.
A foster mama who had to say goodbye too.