Today...Moments of Grace

I know that I had indicated my next post would be about "Thursday" and more of the journey that led us to New Jersey.  However, I need to put that post on pause...first, I need to "unpack" the moments of today.

I had my heart set on flying home with AJ, today.  I desperately miss my five kiddos at home, my husband and "normal life."  I just needed to be done.

But, here's the funny thing about being done...it is often when I find the most important moments need to happen.   

Not flying home today meant that I was available to meet AJ's birth mom (J) for lunch.

This is uncharted territory for me.  I didn't know what a lunch would look like...feel like...be like.  I was scrambling for some type of outline or talking points.  Maybe there was a curriculum I could use?!?

 And, as the plans started to take shape yesterday, I recognized that I needed to do this. Over the past year, I have been blessed to share life with an incredible woman with eight children (crazy, right?!?).  Four of her children are adopted through foster care.  My friend maintains a relationship with her sons' birth mom that is filled with grace, acceptance and love.  It isn't easy, but she remains Christ-like throughout their journey.  I reached out to her via text and she confirmed that this was a good thing...and, a "God-thing."  We would learn together how to navigate this new territory together.

Finally, I had a sense of peace...if I couldn't fly home, this lunch was meant to be.  Whatever it felt like, looked like or simply was like....it would be.  It was as if God himself whispered in my ear, "Tobi, J needs you.  You will be enough.  She needs to know that she is loved...and that she is safe yoking her life with yours through AJ."

And, there it was.   A new calling on my life beyond just loving, guiding and raising AJ, but also loving his birth mom.  The calling to extend my definition of adoption from "just" this blessed child to also (in a way) adopting J into our family.

We met at a Cheesecake Factory.  Nothing fancy or special...until God transformed this every day place into Holy ground.

We hugged.
We sat close together on the bench, her holding AJ, my arm across her shoulders.  We talked and waited for our table.
She smelled him.  She rubbed her nose in his hair.  Felt his face against her face.
I told her about how good he is eating and strong he has gotten.
We ordered the same meal.  Drank our beverages.
I fed AJ.
She shared about how she has been feeling.  The support of her friends.
I shared about our family.  Life in Missouri.
She held AJ again.  Staring into his eyes.  Memorizing his small hands and long fingers.  Rubbed his feet with the palm of her hand.
I told her that I love her.  That our family loves her.
She looked into my eyes and asked if we could stay in touch.  Would I be willing to visit?  Could she visit us?
I shared that I didn't know what the future held but that our lives would always be interwoven.  We were on uncharted territory that she and I would have to navigate...but we would always need to do so by looking at one another's texts, e-mails or phone calls through a lens of love, respect and patience.
She begged me to never pull away from her.  If I was upset or scared to tell her, she would change so that I would be comfortable.
I asked for her patience and promised that AJ would always know that she loves him and that he is a special boy to have two mommies.
We shared our love for food.  She asked me to try ox tale...and I encouraged her to try sauerkraut.
I told her about my love for my church family and how they were praying for her, AJ and me.
She told me that she missed church.  She felt more centered and whole when she attended.
I encouraged her to go.  I told her that God was with her always.
She held AJ close and told him he was special.  Kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear.
I held back the tears as I witnessed such sacrificial love...such amazing grace. I was the interloper invading this Holy space where love means sacrifice.  Blind trust.  Total faith.
She shared her passion for working with the mentally challenged and her love for people with special needs.  Her desire to get back to work soon.
We picked at our food as we laughed, smiled and embraced the beginning foundation for the lifetime ahead.
She announced it was time to leave and she needed to go first.  It was too painful to watch us go.
I got it.  It is easier to walk away than to watch someone walk away.  The illusion of control...and the hiding of tears when you don't look back.
She held AJ close.  Kissed his cheeks and said good-bye.  Laid him down in his car seat.  Hugged me.
I held on...no short hug would be enough.  I said in our embrace that "I loved her" and "Thank you."
And, she walked away.

I am still emotionally "raw"...raw with the emotion of witnessing such a deep, sacrificial love.  Raw at the privileged to experience a simple lunch at a Cheesecake Factory that was so filled with love, respect, sacrifice, and grace.  Raw at still being here after so many days and hearing (via e-mail) that we still have at least a week to go.

I have been broken, today.  Broken of the need to control this uncontrollable time-table.  Broken of the need to fit adoption into a nice, predictable box.  Broken (once again) of the perception that "ministry" best happens in measured moments put on a calendar.

But, again, tonight, as I lay me head down to rest, I will once again pray:

"Use me, God.  Not my will but yours."

If you feel called to help support our adoption fund,

please visit:

Tobi & Brian Are Adopting

or

https://pages.giveforward.com/adoption_ivf/page-t9ymvb/