Everything about loving him scared me senseless.
He was a flight risk and I knew it. I asked God to reveal it to me, to show me
and to guide me, and He did. Once again I felt that risky, head-over-heels love
that wrecks you. The one that leaves you forever marked, memories swirl around
me as I watch a little boy slurping down his chocolate milk with his mom at
Starbucks. I stare at the boy three years older than the one I loved. I smile
and hurt simultaneously at the same time. I never really understood the mother
son relationship before. But, I do now. I only had four months to fall in love
hard and walk away without my pint-size prince. I get it now.
They smell different. They love different. They
destroy things and leave a trail letting you know exactly where they have been.
And when the mess is gone, you miss it. I know it sounds strange, because I
like things orderly and in place. But, I miss his mess. But I don't miss the
chaos that came with the strings attached, court dates, and multiple people
wanting to infringe on our safe-haven. All I wanted was him. Throw out all the
dreams I had and my career finally starting to go somewhere without
interruptions, nothing else compares to my deep desire to mother my children.
Nothing else matters.
I used to stand him on my legs, his hands in mine
and sing, "One Day My Prince will Come." At only eighteen months he
said very little, but he knew the song and would smile and sway as we did our
special waltz.
One day my prince will come and he did. And then
he left.
We had found out about Taylor a couple weeks
prior; his mom was at a crossroads so we met with her to discuss her options,
adoption being one of them. His mother getting her life straight and becoming
the mother he deserved was the best option but she wasn't ready to do that. I
was in shock when she called on a Sunday afternoon asking us to take him. By
Tuesday we were starting the process of adoption. It was unheard of, but the
family found us and felt like we were Taylor's hope for having a different
life. He was dropped on my doorstep with almost everything he owned fitting
into two laundry baskets. With shaved head, only a shirt, and a diaper he was
fourteen months old, beautiful, and broken.
Love fixed him and in the process it changed
everything within my heart and my family. We echoed the heartbeat of Christ,
fighting for the orphan and the widow. It was selfless, laying down our
comforts to welcome a love with so many strings attached. We gave Taylor a
voice and a safe harbor. We gave him our hearts, he became like our flesh and
blood with no difference between him and the daughters I gave birth to.
My husband fell harder and faster, but I saw the
writing on the walls. One of my strongest gifts is discernment and sensitivity
to the Spirit’s leading. I ask and I seek and I knock. I listen, even when it's
not what I want to hear. It was only a matter of time until heartbreak would
happen. But, four months changes everything and eventually I started believing
he might actually end up with us forever. My first month was a hurricane and I
can only compare what I felt to post partum depression.
I was never one to fall in love so easily, but
sometimes love is like driving a car fast without any brakes. You brace
yourself and hold your breath uncertain of the outcome. What once was
invigorating and exciting hits the brick wall of change and you emerge
different. The hope is that eventually the whiplash will fade to nothingness
and your heart will be mended, even if it's never the same.
Sometimes we chase boys who are worth it and
sometimes we catch them and want to throw them back. And sometimes we never
want to let go; we never want to stop feeling a love so tangible and real. We
never want it to stop for fear of what happens when life fades back to normal.
Loving the way Jesus does is risky, but with all
my heart I believe it’s worth it. Jesus walked this earth with every intention
of laying down His life for us, even for the ones who rejected and mocked Him.
Laying it all down and living a life of putting others first is risky, but I
want to love like that. My heart is full of gratitude for a cross, an empty
tomb, and a risky, unending love.