Several months ago my wife & I handed over our cherished foster child to another carer. He’d lived 12 months with us. An extremely energetic little soldier, he’s battled through seemingly insurmountable difficulties in his short life. Months before coming into our care (August 2018) he was fighting for that life. We feel so privileged to have contributed to his recovery and early development. Writing is something of a catharsis for me and I hope my readers will understand, even forgive, for posting this raw piece on social media. I could designate it: “my bitter sweet symphony”.
DISTRESS – The Bitter
Reading in the Psalms pulled me up sharply days after his departure, accurately describing my feelings (as only Scripture can do, when we discover it reading our hearts) – “I am distraught…” moaned the psalmist, and I responded, “Me, too”. Here’s why:
Yes – distraught that we had to prematurely terminate the placement, and let him go.
Yes – distraught that my wife’s health – an injured hand (that made handling a strong toddler too painful to manage) and experience of severe chest pain – contributed largely to the placement ending
Yes – distraught by a 14 month dither within our legal system – preventing earlier movement towards adoption.
Yes – distraught by the abruptness of it all once we’d reached the decision that we simply couldn’t carry on – a decision I’d assess as among the worst in my life, and which has haunted me since.
Yes – distraught by his absence from our home, whilst seeing/hearing/feeling him all around and remembering many scenarios we’d been through together
Yes – distraught by subsequent reflections – a sense of failure, of abandoning, even betrayal of such a vulnerable child, of letting everyone down – perhaps most of all, of not fulfilling what I believed to be a ‘special’ assignment – and failing to find strength in God to carry on !
Along with this distress other thoughts surfaced, as if from nowhere – painful recollections of my past failures to see through specific assignments/projects – leaving me utterly broken inside, and mindful of a bitter lament I wrote some years ago:
https://stryka66.wordpress.com/2013/10/25/a-lightweight-laments
So, yes, “I am distraught…” does capture this miserable episode, with tears a-plenty, resonating with yet another Psalm, where the writer emotes: “I have mingled my drink with weeping”. I can only liken this to the grieving process, comparable with numerous bereavements over the years. An emotional roller-coaster of grief, anger, confusion, disappointment, regret, and forlorn hope. Hope that we may get back to ‘yesterday’ – but forlorn, because it’s just not going to happen. A further aggravating factor must be mentioned here: that well-known human propensity for wanting to take control, to be a Mr Fixit, and organize a way out – which, in this case, has only served to feed the grief.
DISCLOSURE- The Sweet
All of this ‘stuff’ occurred around and within me at the same time as reading through the Gospel of John. Working through the last 8-9 chapters, which detail Jesus’ intimate, emotionally-charged last moments with his disciples, it slowly began to dawn on me that, in a small way, my feelings might well mirror in miniscule form what transpired 2000 years ago, as the Father loved and gave the Son, and as the Son gave His life for our sake. Especially, I pondered how the Father had observed at such close quarters:
– As Jesus’ life developed (30 years in almost total obscurity) before blessing him with affirmation (in Whom I am well-pleased) and anointing of the Holy Spirit (without measure) over a relatively short period of public ministry
– As the insults began to fly – “He’s insane…He’s demonized…He’s a trouble-maker…He’s a glutton & wine-bibber…He’s the friend of tax-collectors and sinners…and so on…”
– As the envy, anger, hatred of the religious establishment grew, leading to plots to get rid of him, many of which failed miserably
– As the betrayal by Judas, the arrest in the Garden, the subsequent trials (before Annas, Caiaphas, Pilate and Herod unfolded
– As the scourging, mockery, abuse of the Roman soldiers kicked in – purple robe, crown of thorns.
– As He’s ultimately condemned to death by crucifixion
How was the Father affected by such treatment of His beloved Son. What was His response to those heart-rending words spoken from the Cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken (abandoned) Me”
What did this do to the loving heart of the Father ?
I recalled a song heard many years ago, and reflected that this was what singer/songwriter, Dallas Holm was attempting to capture when he wrote the following lines way back in the 1970s:
God, it must have broke Your heart to send Your Son away
Knowing all the time the final price He’d have to pay
Left His home in glory and became a common man
And because He did I am what I am
Now I am a man and have a baby of my own
I wonder could I send my baby off and all alone
To help someone, somewhere, somehow to set some captive free
Could I do the same for Him who did the same for me
Yes, how did the Father feel as the Son laid down His life, surrendering His being in those dying words: “Into Your hands I commit my spirit”, as He watches the spear pierce His side and how that mutilated body, marred beyond recognition, is removed from the cross, carefully wrapped in grave cloths, with embalming spices, and laid lifeless in a borrowed, garden tomb for 3 nights in eternity.
Well, we’ll never know or understand fully – BUT as these thoughts poured over my hurting soul, I did fleetingly wonder if what I’ve been experiencing may conceivably have afforded a tiny glimpse into the heart of the suffering Abba (daddy).
(The amazing image of the cross in the ruins of Notre Dame Cathedral – 16 Apr 2019)
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