5 years

I remember sitting on my porch weeping after Jordan died. My life had quickly turned upside down and the trauma was compounding, but I was determined to hold onto hope somehow. I sipped cold coffee and kept thinking, “I wonder where we will be 5 years from now”. It felt hard to imagine. Will this feel the same every year-crushing and weighty, or will we be healed and thriving by then?

Interesting how it can be both. These last five years have put so many miles on my heart, in some ways it feels like a lifetime has gone by. But then I’ll see a photo of myself holding two spunky babies, and it feels like just yesterday. How in the world can it be five years? I look down at my daughter playing and realize her 5th birthday is just around the corner so it must be. My feisty little gift of redemption, always teaching and reminding me things I don’t feel ready to learn. I see Jordan in her every single day, which is both beautiful and challenging. I have been profoundly grateful that she keeps me present and active in my healing- like a catalyst for mending my heart. I couldn’t ever hide from the pain really, I had diapers to change. I was motivated by love for another tiny person to forgive, process and heal at a faster pace than I maybe would have ever chosen. She doesn’t replace him in any sense, they have crazy similarities but are very much their own. As she gets older I’m faced with the most difficult questions for a Mama heart- I’m fumbling around trying to find the words when I know even the most eloquent speech won’t soften the blow. But the Lord continues to meet us with kisses of mercy. He shows up over and over like He promises, filling in the gaps where we lack.

This year was the first, where I felt more like smiling instead of sobbing when the September date came and we told our Jordan stories. We released balloons with our girls and they blew kisses to heaven and told me how sweet it will be to see him with Jesus. The veil seems so thin when you lose someone, heaven has become a common topic with our kids. I think there will always be an ache come September, but I couldn’t help but marvel this time, at all the Lord has done. It’s like I can see it more the further out we get, or maybe I’m just more willing to see. He exceeded my expectations in so many ways- things I thought were forever he came and met with His peace. The redemption story hasn’t been the way I wanted, but that may be part of the miracle. He kept our hearts soft when the enemy tried to make us hard and bitter. He is teaching us to forgive what we deem unforgivable, to wrestle out the hard questions with Him. To trust that He is good even when life doesn’t feel good and not blame him for things that were never Him. Trauma and even death do not have the final word!

So this year on the anniversary of losing J, we did something that felt both absolutely terrifying and absolutely right. We signed up for the foster care orientation in our new state we’re calling home for now. Some will probably think we are crazy or not understand why we would willingly go back into the very thing that caused so much heartache. I would be lying if I didn’t think the same sometimes! It took us a while to consider jumping back in and we don’t take it lightly. So many prayers and tearful conversations, part of us wishing we didn’t still feel the pull towards foster care and adoption. But we knew we were not done, the Lord has been speaking as He heals us and preparing us to give the yes when He said it’s time. So we are doing our best to be obedient and push past the fear, one shaky step at a time. I know one thing for sure, He can do a whole lot with a weak yes.