The Kids I Couldn't Adopt

I have a secret hurt in my heart. Every time I read certain posts on Facebook or get phone calls or text messages from certain people, an old, familiar pain rears its ugly head and I am once again aware of its dark presence. It's the memories of the children I could not adopt that continue to haunt me.

One is now serving in Afghanistan on his third tour of duty. Another is studying psychology and still struggling with the demons of her past. Two more are mommies with little boys of their own. A couple are confused about which way to turn in life and which path to take. Some of the others I have no contact with at all. I shared the love of Jesus with them. I loved them with all my heart. I poured my entire heart into them. If they call for me, I am there still.



I know all the logic and facts and reasons and arguments, but the pain just will not go away. As I struggle through this, I am learning to trust that God is their Father, and that that is much more important than me being their mother. My head knows that there will always be more kids that I can't adopt than the few I actually can. That thought is frustrating for a "problem-fixer" personality such as mine. Then again, maybe, God will use that pain in my heart to spur me on to speak to more people on behalf of the fatherless.

On second thought, may that beautiful, glorious pain remain in my heart until the day Jesus calls us all to our forever home!