Even If…

You can expect the possibility of something. Know that it might become a reality. You can run through a million “what ifs” and imagine how you would respond if it did. You can even imagine how if might affect you – both short and long term. But if that far off possibility suddenly becomes realized, that’s a completely different story. That’s when the pressure is turned on. That’s when what’s inside comes out. When truth is revealed and hearts are laid bare. When you know where your hopes and prayers are truly anchored and whether what you have invested – or not invested – in your faith has actually prepared you to walk through the fire.

We are facing our fire. Tuesday morning, our possibility became a reality with a phone call and I find myself feeling both completely numb with shock and strangely prepared. We always knew that the possibility existed that our baby boy might be returned to his birth mom – that’s the risk you take with foster to adopt – but now that the decision for reunification has been made, it feels surreal. It was always a distant possibility. Something that no one really thought would happen. Now it’s an all true reality that we have to face. And there is no getting away from it or denying it or even delaying it. Next week, the reunification plan ramps into high gear with full day birth visits. And after that, overnights will likely be the plan. Basically, within a few weeks, I may no longer have my Little One to hold, to cuddle, to rock to sleep, to laugh with as he grabs my face and gurgles his happy baby babble, to watch as he daily develops and discovers his world. Those joys will be someone else’s. Someone who I know loves him. Someone who has been waiting and hoping for him. Someone whose arms will be full of his warmth, while mine are empty.

I want to be angry. To rail about the unfairness of it all. To somehow vilify this other woman who has a claim to the baby I love. But I can’t. Our baby’s name means “God given” and he certainly is a precious gift to our family. Perhaps one that we were able to enjoy and love on and pour into only for a season; only to give him back. Only God knows the future. But even if he only came for these few short months, he has forever marked us. On the day we got the call, a lovely friend reminded me that God placed this Little Gift in my arms and that when I hand him to his birth mom, I should remember that I am placing him back into the arms of his Father. Place him there knowing we were obedient to the call “Follow Me”. Even if it costs us. Even if it means our hearts are breaking. We wouldn’t have chosen to avoid meeting and loving him, despite the pain.

The lyrics to the song Even If by Mercy Me and Trust in You by Lauren Daigle have been on repeat and reverberating through my soul all week. The Hebrew children stood before the king and declared that God was able to deliver them from the fiery furnace, but even if He didn’t, they would still follow Him. It isn’t as though our situation has come as a surprise to God. He knew where this would lead when He impressed upon our hearts to become a foster to adopt family. He knew what we said yes to, far more than we did. He could have changed how things have played out and may still work in ways that we don’t anticipate or understand, yet He never called us to understand. He called us to trust. He called us to obey. “Even if…”

When Jesus said to take up our cross daily and follow, He wasn’t asking us to give up something. He was asking for everything. Asking for our very lives. Because He knows that when we fully lay down our lives in surrender to pick up the cross marked out for us, that’s when we find life abundant. That’s when we find peace that makes no sense from a human perspective. When we find Joy in the midst of mourning. Hope in the face of darkness. Because we never walk alone. We walk, knowing our existence, our very next breath, depends on Him. And that’s when He is glorified. “Even if…”

“Even if you don’t…” Even if He doesn’t answer the prayers I have prayed the way I want them answered. Even if He doesn’t move the mountains. Even if He leads me down paths I wouldn’t have chosen myself. He is my hope. I will trust Him. I have accepted the call. I will follow. Even if it means sacrifice. Even if it means walking through these valleys and shadows and rivers and fires. “Follow Me”. I’m coming. I may be limping, but I’m coming. Broken, with my heart in tatters, but I’m coming. Weeping, but I’m coming. Because the alternative costs more than I want to pay. And the rewards on the other side of this fire are greater reaching than even I can comprehend. Yes, I will stumble. Yes, I will fall. But to refuse to get up again and continue is not an option for a Christ-follower. And while I am failing and imperfect and in daily need of grace, I know that His Grace is sufficient for each day and His Mercies new and refreshing every morning. I know my Father’s got my name carved in His Hands. He sees me. Right here. Right now. And whatever His plans and purpose for me or my family and for the Little Gift sleeping in my arms, I surrender. “Even if…”

“My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly trust in Jesus’ name

Christ alone; cornerstone
Weak made strong; in the Saviour’s love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of all”