Throw me under the bus

Matt's idea of enjoying nature...
sitting on the beach with iphone in hand

This week has been a challenge.  And on so many levels.  Matt got hit in the head with an ax - yes you read that correctly.  My techie, strictly indoorsy, "I pay someone else to mow my lawn" husband ventures outdoors for a service project and manages to get his bell rung by the most manly tool onsite.  After he poured his milk on the counter next to the glass and complained a couple several times that he was dizzy, I ordered him to urgent care.  One CT scan later and thank God it was just a minor concussion.  From an ax.  
A couple of days later, I'm at the pool from the girls and Sofi complains that her belly itches, then lifts up her swimsuit to reveal that her belly button has been swallowed up in puffy, red blotches.  By the time we got home which was down the street! it had spread over her torso and was crawling down her legs.  Praise God for Benadryl and a mother in law who's an urgent care nurse! A few hours later, she's in the care of my fabulous sister-in-law who texts me to say that Sofi is having a hard time breathing and her lips are swollen and should she call 911?  Again, praise God for nurse Grandma, and another dose of Benadryl to keep the ambulance away.  As if that wasn't enough, the next day we notice that Isabel's neck looks like it's grown a small person and she complains that her throat hurts.  Sure that it was strep, I took her into urgent care (where we're practically funding their payroll these days!).  Not strep.  And her neck looks like it's due any day now, and I'm wondering if we should pick a name now or wait to find out if it's a boy or girl.  Maybe the ENT specialist can help us decide on Monday.  I joke because otherwise I might go insane.


And if that's not enough, I had to go to court for "Daniella" (name changed to protect the innocent, remember?).  Well actually I didn't have to but apparently if you don't show up, they'll be happy to throw you under the bus and breathe a deep sigh of relief because they've avoided your demise offer their condolences after the fact.  So since I was there, I was called to testify.  In court.  I had to raise my hand and swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, blah blah blah.  And 1 lawyer asked a question and another lawyer yelled "objection!  relevance?" and I felt like I was stuck inside one of my favorite TV shows.  Only in my favorite TV shows, I prefer the characters who yell "objection!" and not the ones standing there trying desperately to stay out from under the bus.  Which brings me to my point.  What is "The Bus?"  Where is it going, and why on earth do we throw people under it?!?  Shouldn't that be a crime?  Next time I'm going to yell: "Objection!  Witness endangered by "The Bus!"  I'm sure it will impress the judge.  

I love my sweet, big-hearted little girls!

So in the midst of my crazy week, I came across a blog post written by another mom who volunteers with Safe Families.  It was a transparently beautiful post that not only spoke to the difficulties of a life dedicated to serving these children and their families, but echoed the reason why we do it.  Not for us, not because it's easy or fulfilling or 100% effective.  We do it for the kids.  Because they're God's kids and deserve to be loved as such.  Her daughter wrote a beautiful story of her time with a toddler who lived in her home, and as I read it to my girls they were so encouraged by her words.  She spoke of sending God with this little boy, and promising to pray for him always.  We talked about little Daniella and the reality that she may only be with us for a short time but God will be with her always.  And my sweet, big-hearted girls shook their heads and giant tears rolled down their cheeks as they kept saying "but it's not fair!  She's happy here, she's safe here, doesn't the judge know she's safe here?  Why would God let her leave?"  And while my instinct was to give them an answer that made sense, that wrapped things up neatly in a way that proved that God was not only in control but that His plan made perfect sense, my brain couldn't find the words, couldn't even make sense of the reality they were questioning.  I wanted to teach them that God is good and that we can always see His goodness clearly.  More than anything I wanted to smile and say, everything is going to work out great!  But as I held them close and felt their faces wet with tears, I broke.  Because the truth is, I don't have answers for them.  Not ones they'd be happy with, and to be honest, not ones I'm happy with either.  So I cried with them, which nearly terrified them since they could count on one hand with fingers left over the number of times they've seen me cry.  Then I whispered a desperate plea to my Father for wisdom.  And I spoke, or I should probably say, the Holy Spirit spoke through me.  I spoke Truth, not the truth that makes sense in the temporal sense but God's Truth that supersedes what is temporal, and stretches from before time into Eternity.  I held them close and told them that Daniella is God's child and that He loves her more than we ever could.  He promises to be with her always - and while we may not always be with her, nothing can separate her from His love, His presence, His promises.  And while she is in our home, we can only offer her Jesus, and when she leaves we can only send Him with her.  Then we can pray for her, because no one can take her from our hearts and our memories.  I reminded them how much she loves to pray - oh that little girl just loves to talk to Jesus!  And she hangs onto His promise to be with her, the truth that He loves her, and the hope that she will someday see Him in Heaven.  She learned to pray in our home, and wherever she is, she will have her Savior's ear.  


People say to me often that they so admire what we are doing.  And that they would love to be able to help children like that but they just couldn't - it would be too hard to love them and let them go.  As if we are somehow impervious to the heartache and struggle.  I know that's not what they mean, but still...  Let me assure you, this calling is not easy.  To calm a frightened child, soothe them after a nightmare, hold them in your arms, play with them on your living room floor, and then after they have come to call you "mommy" and you have come to smile at the sound of their pitter-pattering feet down the hallway, to return them to a home that at best is rebuilding and at worst is unsafe, this is no easy task.  That's why I'm glad I don't do it alone.  That God does not call us, no, command us, to care for the widows and orphans in our own strength.  He comes along side of us, walking so close as to share the burden and carry us when we grow too weary.  In these moments of trial and struggle and pain, I feel God's heart beat within my own and find my strength renewed.  These are His children that He loves, and as His heart is grafted within my own, I grow to love them so deeply too.  And I get a glimpse at how He feels when His children whether young or old, are separated from Him.  How it must crush God's heart to give His very life for us, and then watch as we run headlong into a life that is far from Him.  And this by choice and not by court order!  This experience, while incredibly difficult, is one I wouldn't trade for the world.  I have had the honor of sharing Jesus with almost a dozen children, and in return I have learned what it means to "know Christ and power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings..."  (Philippians 3:10)  Please don't misunderstand - I am not equating myself with Paul or trying to say that my "sufferings" are equal to Christ's.  But in the process of loving His children, I have been able to celebrate a life redeemed and have felt God's heart within mine ache for a life broken and bruised.  While one experience may feel "better," both bring me closer to my Savior and for that I am eternally grateful.


So go ahead, throw me under the bus.  They heaped insults on my Savior, they laughed at His vulnerability, they mocked His mission.  They crucified Him for... my sake.  And yours.  And little Daniella's.  "What, then, shall we say in response to this?  If God is for us, who can be against us?.... Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen?  It is God who justifies.  Who is he that condemns?  Christ Jesus, who died - more than that, who was raised to life - is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us."  (Romans 8:31, 33-34)   


Have you been thrown under the bus for Christ lately?  I dare you, give it a try - allow God to use you in a way that offers you the opportunity to share in His suffering and know Christ and the power of His resurrection in a brand new way.