Sharing in Abandonment

 It's always there--like a cloud hanging over everything that happens in our homes.  The underlying reality that each of our residents (and some of our staff) have truly been abandoned and betrayed by those who should have loved them best.

 While our Christmas celebrations were filled with fellowship and joy, there is always a tinge of sadness in what is missing.  Each person around the table realizes that we are not in a "normal" family.  Each person experiencing the pain that their birth families do not even reaching out to them with a text message to let them know they are loved and missed.

I want to say that the love shown in our homes heals this.  When we began Casa de Esperanza I somewhat naively believed that the love we offer, the fact that they are chosen to be loved by us, would eliminate this pain.  Each year I more deeply realize that the wound, though scabbed over, is still there. Our love will never totally eliminate their sense of rejection.  We try our best to help them know and experience the love of the heavenly Father who created them, but it's too often not enough.  Why would a loving Father let these terrible things happen to them?

 Special days like Christmas and birthdays tear the scab off, inflicting the pain of their losses once again. Each celebration needs to recognize and acknowledge this grief gently.  Each of us serving our men and women must enter into their grief, not "spiritualize" it away.  The pain of abandonment is real and persistent.  I believe this is the hardest part of our ministry.  It requires us to have faith that covers both of us at times.  

It calls us to walk into suffering in a unique way.  To recognize the truth of how profoundly they are loved by God.  To share with them concretely this love by the fact of our presence with them.  And at the same time know that we will never be enough.  

Yes, God is enough, but recognizing him in pain is hard.  So we sit and listen, sometimes for hours, on the patio while other are laughing inside.  We hold them as they sob for the family that does not acknowledge them.  To accept their anger at their situation without minimizing it.  We are challenged by our need to hold on to the truth of God's love for them, and us, while facing the pain unjustly inflicted upon them by others.  God gives us the strength to do this, but it takes a toll.

Today, the day after Christmas, I am exhausted.  Not by cooking and baking, but by the call to die to myself to live for another.  To willingly enter into suffering I don't own, but am called to share.  The same is true for each of our team members who do this so well, by the grace of God.

Would you take a few moments today, to pray for those of us who serve with Reason to Hope, to be lifted up, once again, on eagles wings and refreshed.  We need this.