The Hope for Healing
Tonight I’m rocking to sleep yet another sweet child that’s not mine. It’s an experience that’s hard to put into words, yet one I never forget. I vividly remember that experience for every single foster child that has come through my home.
In the silence and darkness my mind wanders, thinking about how scared and overwhelmed this child must feel right now. I’m fully aware of the gravity of the situation, and my heart breaks.
Tears stream down my face as I mourn what this child and their family are going through. Somewhere there is a mother who is not with their child, probably scared and worried if her child is safe, upset over bad choices or life circumstances that lead to this, and feeling so alone.
As we continue to rock, I feel little arms wrap so tightly around me and I wonder, is this the first time they’ve ever lovingly been held, rocked to sleep, heard the sweet sounds of a lullaby or a gentle kiss on the forehead, or is their mom crying as she sings that lullaby to an empty room and packing up toys because they’re too painful to see?
It’s hard to put into words what it feels like. It’s so bittersweet. The sting of loss breaks my heart, but the hope for healing gives me great joy.