From Riches to Rags, and the Glory I Found There

Christmas 2018 was an special time for us. We thought that we would be adopting a baby. We spent an entire month living in the hope of that little baby boy coming home with us.  Unfortunately it fell completely apart (in surprising ways) and our hearts were really broken.  We’ve spent a year recovering from that experience and, honestly, I have really not wanted to share it. It was a pretty private hurt and one that was not well understood.  Every time I thought about sharing our story I just kept holding back. I didn’t want to reopen old wounds. But, the past few months I’ve felt the Lord speaking to my heart about our story. This part of our life is dirty and broken and doesn’t have a “happy ending”. But that doesn’t mean its any less sanctioned by God. I’ve tried to not shy away from sharing the hard parts of our story before, so I shouldn’t start now.  So, the easiest way to share our story is to share the emails that we sent to our family members during that time. 

         One of the popular Facebook pages related to the grief of losing a child recently asked the question: Does time heal all wounds? The answer was an overwhelming and resounding "no" from the commenters. It was a feed of hurt and brokenness, and I ached for them all. When was it decided that time, in fact, had the authority to heal? I wonder if it was a concept brought on by the narrative of "its been long enough, your grief should be done"? Its something that is certainly said enough, often by people who simple cannot understand your grief (in whatever capacity it exists, for whatever reason). It seems like something the grief community mistakingly adopted in order to try to control their own narrative surrounding grief. Admitting that "yes, I will one day be "healed" but I need time...more time." Because, apparently, "time heals all wounds", didn't you know? I firmly believe that losing a child, or any loved on