11 Mar The End of All Being
Foster care is the most simultaneously amazing and beautiful and agonizing and heart-breaking thing. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s caused far more heartbreak than I’ve ever known. Yet I wouldn’t take back a minute of it.
My two babies have supposedly started the process of abandonment. This is good. This is a step towards adoption. This is what we want. But it brings me closer to the heart-breaking reality that our time is limited.
One day when I was really struggling, I was talking to our director and she made what I feel is a very accurate comparison. Foster care is like having terminally ill children. No my children aren’t dying and I don’t mean to downplay how horrible it would be to have a terminally ill child, but I believe many of the feelings present are the same. You never know how much longer you have your child. You hope and pray for a miracle. But the reality that your days together are limited is constantly gnawing at you.
My heart is broken all the time. Sometimes it gets pushed to the back of my mind and doesn’t affect me too much. Sometimes it smacks me in the face and breaks me down in tears. But it never goes away.
Today as that heartbreak was closer to the front of my mind then the back, the thought came to my mind, “Why do I do this?” Not in the sense of “I don’t want to be here, why am I here?”, but more in the sense of “Why do I knowingly walk into this heartbreak? Why is it worth it? What is my motivation?”
The first answer that came to mind is “Because this is what God has called me to do.” And that is true. But I also feel like it is the cheater Christian answer and I pushed myself to examine my heart further.
The children? I do love these children as my very own. If my heartbreak is able to help them know love, create secure attachments, grow into emotionally and spiritually healthy adults, or any other way, it’s worth it. But that’s really not the reason I do it either. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.
Then I thought back to my DTS (Kairos plug). And a sermon we listened to there. I just realized ironically, or perhaps prophetically, I heard this sermon just before my first mission trip to Honduras. So I listened to 10 Shekels and a Shirt (PLEASE listen) once more. This was the fourth time I listened to it. I thought I knew the principles of it and were living them out in my life, but I was convicted to the point of tears anew.
We live in a horribly humanistic world. The end of all being is the happiness of man. That goes directly in contrast to the Bible and Christianity, yet we have weaved it in to our Churches, our theology, and our lives. I have weaved it into my Christianity. We tell people to be saved so they can go to heaven. I repent and ask God to make me better. I want God to do me well. Humanism.
The end of all being is not the happiness of man. The end of all being is the glory of God.
I do believe that I am doing what God has called me to do. But I have a foot on each side. On foot in His calling. One foot in my humanism. In the sermon Paris Reidhead uses the example of driving the car, getting in the passenger seat, letting God take the wheel. I’m sure you’ve all heard something similar before. And I realize exactly what I am doing. God gave me the car – my calling, caring for children. I am in the right car, but I am trying to drive. I want this foster care to go where I want it to go. I want to adopt my kids. Why? It will make me happy. I believe it’s the best for them. Humanism. I’m not trying to bring glory to God. I’m trying to make myself and my children happy.
Conviction. Deep conviction.
Would you serve God with all your life even if you knew you were going to hell at the end of the road?
My wicked heart hesitates. I know the right answer is yes. But my wicked and selfish heart hesitates. If my answer is no, then I have purely selfish and humanistic motivation for my service.
Would I still serve God with all my life if I knew the kids were still going to hell at the end of the road?
This was actually a harder question for me to answer. But if my answer is no, I am making the children more important than God. If my answer is no, they have become my gods and my Christianity is a sham. A means to an end.
My heart breaks again as the depth of my selfishness and wickedness is revealed even more in the presence of the Holiest of Holies, the Creator an Lord of the universe, Savior of my Soul, and my patient Father. He is so loving and patient with me in my unending sinfulness.
I am weak. I am selfish. I am fleshly. I am wicked.
That’s why I have to get out of the car, lock myself in the trunk, and say, “Lord, do with me what You will.” Even if I go to hell at the end of the road. Even if this journey brings me nothing but pain. Even if this journey brings pain and harm to my children. Because YOU are worthy. YOU are good. YOU deserve everything I have to give. YOU deserve all glory. Not because I’m trying to make a deal with You. Not because I want something out of You. Because the end of all being is Your glory.
My only job is to surrender.
Lord do with me what You will. No conditions.