Joy and lament



Today our church family was challenged with the role of lament in our lives. We live in a Christian culture that doesn’t want to sit in the hard and uncomfortable reality of our broken world. The symphony of sadness that blends together both the rock-solid truth of Jesus’ triumph and power and ability and presence along with confusion and real questions and the struggle of living in the “now but not yet” state of the Kingdom. We don’t lament well.

This afternoon we met Wonder Girl’s biological siblings for the first time. They were so sweet. NP played tag and talked football and we splashed in puddles while the sky dumped unbelievable amounts of rain down around the pavilion we sheltered under. The puddles became streams and then standing water covering our feet. It seemed like a fitting juxtaposition on what we hoped would be a beautiful sunny day.

This is one of the sides of fostercare and adoption that nothing truly prepares you for. These children that have gone through all the things we thank God for sparing Wonder Girl from. Children who now wrestle with the reality of more brokenness- their sister has a forever family, but what about them? We did our best to assure them that we want her to know them. But they’ve had adults promise things time and time again and not follow through. Only time will show them. We beg the God who knows and loves them to show us how to be different for them- to be Jesus to them. To not leave them like so many have done before.

This ought not be. This is never how families should be. Siblings should not have to grieve this kind of brokenness and confusion.

Every adoption involves loss. Deep loss. Sometimes we want to put a shiny bow on top and cling to the happily ever after and avert our eyes from the grief and the shadowy darkness that lurks at the edges.

This is a time for joy, yes. And there is also time for lament. To sit with the reality. Because some day Wonder Girl will want to know why. Why would God allow this? Why wouldn’t He fix her bio parents? Wasn’t she enough? And we need to be prepared to sit with her in the lament. We need to lament it first.

We wanted a beautiful sunny day. I asked God for it. But in His good pleasure He gave us a flood warning instead. I came home with wet feet and a full but heavy heart. There is so much beauty. The story He is writing is beautiful. But this world is badly broken. Both are true. And He is big enough for me to wrestle with that tension.

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