This week, I gave up my last "me" commitment. I finished my last religious education class and told my team lead that I wouldn't be teaching next year. Ten years of Wednesday evenings spent sharing my faith with the children in my parish... ten years is a long time. Maybe too long, or maybe I'll be back one day.
For now, at least, I felt unable to offer consistent quality to my class. And those kids deserve quality. There were weeks when I felt like our conversations and lessons were divinely orchestrated, weeks when I was inspired to create beautiful prayer stations and opportunities to connect to Christ. There is no doubt that my church kids learned more than Sacraments and Saints. Together, we grew closer to God. And it is SO VERY HARD to walk away from those weekly meetings.
I too often forget that what I am doing at home IS God work. When I forget that fact, I usually find myself failing at my calling. And it is difficult to admit to myself that managing my motherhood might be all that I am capable of in this season of my life. Resigning myself to a life lived solely for my family is pretty scary, but deep down, I believe it is where JOY waits.
The world tells me that I need to reserve some life for myself, and there is truth in that, but there is also temptation and confusion and blurred lines that are easily crossed. I don't always WANT to give up my life before foster adoption. I don't always like the work in heart-healing. I don't always like the reality of healing broken hearts because I stumble and fumble through the darkness of it every day. I make mistake after mistake, and sometimes I feel myself start to lose my footing. I all-to-often forget that these hearts are fragile and do not truly mean the hurt that they cause. When I forget, I get so wrapped up in surviving the war that I also forget that I am not the one who has to fight it. I don't have to fight my kids, I get to team up with them and fight FOR them.
If all goes as planned, we will finalize our adoption in just 11 days. We have spent the last few weeks going through misery and darkness. We have been hot-lined and investigated. My son has called me horrible names and thrown countless tantrums. We have had days and days of silence. We have realized that we don't really trust in our workers (because when you're being investigated, it's hard to really trust that they all have your back even when they say they do). In the last few weeks, we have accepted the worst-care scenario for our son's future and made arrangements and agreements on how will expect to handle it should we find ourselves there. And by the grace of God, we find ourselves at peace these days. Yes, we are prepared for a life where we aren't always able to help our son by ourselves or within the walls of our house. But we are hopeful and trusting in God's healing mercy. We are anxiously awaiting the finalization of our adoption so that the dust can finally settle and we can begin to fit the broken pieces back together.