In the distance the thunder rolls.
In the house a door slams.
A storm is rolling in…inside and out.
I sat on the edge of the stairs and watched the storm move in.
Slamming doors, banging on walls, a little voice filled with rage and fear.
The storm was picking up steam.
Here, I sat…weary.
The thunder rolls…the sky gets dark.
Tears build up in my eyes and in that moment I’m not sure how this plays out.
I’ve got nothing left. I whisper. Hoping…praying…that the God who brought the rain will somehow bring the sun.
I begin writing a blog post in my head about what love looks like….
Love whispers when you’d rather yell to be heard.
Love knocks on the door that just slammed again.
Love promises to stay through curses and cussing and being pushed away.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13:7
hopes….perseveres….I’ve got nothing left. I whisper again.
Then from the living a song rises that I’ve never heard before.
The storm rages — the wind blows, little feet kick doors, the thunder shakes the house, slamming doors rattle the hallway, the lightening is so bright and close that it is almost blinding, a little voice spews anger at deafening decibels — and here I sit on the stairs. Tears streaming down my cheeks and Jesus singing into my soul from the living room.
“Love’s not safe at all
Love might let you fall
Love’s not easy
But it’s good, it’s good, it’s good
Love will take your time
Love might feel unkind
Love will break you
But it’s good”
It is not my love or my energy or my efforts that will reach our foster peanut…our someday son….it is Jesus. His love pouring through me…and when I’m empty it can only come from Him…that…that is perfect love…love that is kind…love that casts out all fear….love that will always persevere…love that is eternal.
Like all storms, this one passed. The thunder rolled on and a little body grew tired.
The sun shone. A faint rainbow glimmered above. And I rocked a small body in my arms while he cried and let go of all that was battling within him.
This is exhausting work…this work of parenting in the wake of trauma, abuse and neglect….
Love will break you…It’s not easy….but it’s good.