Today was the Parent Visit. The Monthly Parent Visit. The Christmas Parent Visit.
Emotions were running high. There is an intensity, a tension, that comes along with foster care and the relationship that the children have with their families.
Yesterday afternoon I was going to lie down for a much-needed rest for a little while. The small children were sleeping, and the older girls had some vacation homework to do. I told L., “I’m going to rest. When you finish this section, remember that you need to make a card for your mom. It was her birthday last week.”
I don’t know why I announce my intentions to rest. It seems like whenever I do, it backfires. These kids don’t want me to sleep, or what?
“But why bother if she didn’t even come to the last two visits…” she mumbled.
“She’s your mom and it was her birthday. Besides, she knows that tomorrow is the visit and is going to be there.”
“Are you sure?” she challenged. I couldn’t guarantee her, because her mom spends most of her time on the streets and has little concept of what day it is. But Bibiana saw her recently and the mom did pledge to be at the next visit. “I don’t know why I have to make her a card if she doesn’t even go.”
“I know it hurts, L., but do you know why she said she didn’t go the last two months?” I started, but she was having nothing of it.
The answer, which Bibi had already explained to L. (after the mother told her), is that she’s embarrassed to go without any gift for her pre-teen daughter. Not even a bag of chips. She typically works all day just to pay her daily expenses: her pieza -- the room she stays at, paying a minimal fee per night to have a bed and a place to keep her things -- and a little something to eat. L's mom needs to know that her presence is more important than bringing a gift, but L needs to help her understand by not always asking what she brought.
“I don’t know why you all always have to be like that…” L. covered her ears with her hands to keep from hearing reason. “Fine! I’ll make the card, but if she doesn’t show, I don’t care! Yes, I do care--”
“If she doesn't show up, it will hurt, but it’s important, L.”
Tensions mounted, I sent her to her room to calm down, and went to mine.
We both cried.
Goodbye, nap time.
But after a few minutes I heard her leave to continue with homework, and I kept talking with God, and started reading. At one point I left my room for something and saw her making the birthday card. After re-reading a chapter from a book – one of the times it makes me glad that I pack heavy and bring books – I wrote L. a letter.
I told her how brave she is for making that card, for choosing to love, for choosing to hope, for risking that much. I translated and paraphrased part of Rob Bell’s book, Sex God, where he talks about just that, the risk of loving.
“The story the Bible tells is of a living being who loves and who continues to love even when that love is not returned. A God who refuses to override our freedom, who respects our power to decide whether to reciprocate, a God who lets us make the next move.
Love is handing your heart to someone and taking the risk that they will hand it back because they don’t want it. That’s why it’s such a crushing ache on the inside. We gave away a part of ourselves and it wasn’t wanted. …
Jesus is God coming to us in love. Sheer unadulterated, unfiltered love. Stripped of everything that could get in the way. Naked and vulnerable, hanging on a cross, asking the question, “What will you do with me?” …
The cross is God’s way of saying, “I know what it’s like.” …
This can transform our experience of heartbreak. … If God can continue to risk, then maybe we can too.”
When we love much, when we hope much, it hurts much.
1 Corinthians 13:7 says that love ALWAYS HOPES.
Hopes against hope, against all reason, against all odds, against past mistakes.
That’s why it’s so scary -- so scary to hope, so scary to love. We know that there is a very high probability that we will end up hurt. But Bell also says, “The cross is where we present our wounds to God and say, ‘Here, you take them.’”
I choose hope.
By the way, when we arrived to the visit today, L.’s mom, dad, and older sister were all there waiting for us.
It was still hard for her to visibly express her joy and relief. But sometimes, Hope wins, Faith brings joy, Love is worth it.
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