I’m in the deep, thick, murky waters of both motherhood and foster care. The usual tantrums and arguments and shoe-tying and snack wrangling that occupied my days has now been coupled with trauma-responses, food-insecurities and learning how to cope with great loss while forming new attachments.
Today in church my husband and I stood up and led our three big kids, like little goslings, out from our pew and up the aisle to join in a circle prayer. I held hands with the woman to my left while also holding our baby in my left arm, and my right hand held my sons. My son’s right hand held his newest foster sibling, who’s right hand held our two year old daughters, with my husband on the opposite side. We stood in the circle with our church family– all connected. In that moment, nothing else mattered besides the prayers we were lifting up to heaven.
I long for more moments like that. The peace, the belonging, the pause amidst life’s chaos to join hands and talk to God.
A little while later I walked back into the nursery to feed the baby. Pretty soon the door opened and it was my husband bringing our toddler in. About 5 minutes after that, the door opened again and “A” joined us. I sat in the nursery with all three of our girls, listening to preaching through the intercom speaker, while my husband and our son sat and listened from our pew.
I spend the remainder of service nursing the baby, changing diapers and reminding “A” at least a dozen times that we will all eat lunch together after church.
The service ends and the boys meet us back in the nursery to help load up and head out the door. Once again, like little goslings, our family walks single-file down the aisle of the sanctuary. I’m met near the door by our preacher’s wife, a sweet woman with a heart of solid gold. She has taught Sunday school to all of the children who had grown up in our church, my husband included. She looks at me and smiles, her arms stretch forward and we meet in an embrace. After our hug, she looks at me again, eye to eye, and says,
“you are so special.”
Four words, a smile, and a hug.
That’s all it took. For the first time all day I felt seen, and not just watched.
I never thought something so simple could bring me such encouragement. These days are so long. Even when my body is still, my mind constantly races. I find myself craving a moment of solace, an early bedtime, a date with my husband, a nanny, a personal chef and a housekeeper. There’s so many things I could list that would make my life a little easier, but in this moment, in this church, on this particular Sunday, the Lord sent me exactly what I needed: a smile, a hug, and four sweet words, “you are so special”.
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