Smiling at the Heartache

It’s been a while since I’ve seen their young little faces. It’s been even longer since the boys in the picture called out for me or ran to me for a hug. Seeing their faces on a random picture on the internet was not planned. But it threatened to do damage to my aching heart.

I had shared the responsibility for them several years back. They most likely barely remember me as the woman who’s heart they held when they were younger. I, on the other hand, remember their quirks, their voices, their giggles and their cries. The desire to go back to my life with them hit me like a Mack truck yesterday. To anyone else, it was just a picture. To me, it was a memory of a part of my heart I’d most likely never see again. 

The desire to make the needed calls to get back into their lives surprised me. I miss “my boys”, but it wasn’t God’s plan for me to be in their lives forever. When God allowed the chapter as their caretaker to close, it was a very needed change. They needed their real mother- I wanted them to have their real mother. But trying to remind my heart of that as I looked at the smiling picture yesterday took an act of God.

All day yesterday, the picture seemed stamped in my brain. Their smiles seemed to audibly come with their giggles. I started praying things I haven’t prayed in over four years. I met my Jesus in the Throne room asking questions I didn’t know I still had. Most of them illogical and emotional. Jesus held me in His lap and answered them anyway.

 At one point, I seemed to hear the Savior whisper to my heart, “Child, who do you think I am? Who are you to think you are the only one that can love these boys well? You call Me your God, you tell Me you’ll ‘surrender all’ and yet, you attempt to hide one of the biggest aches of your heart from Me. Am I your God- your Comforter and Provider – or am I merely an idol to worship or pay homage to when it’s convenient?

You love these boys. I love them more. I took you away from them for many reasons, but I have never left them. You know you need to learn to surrender these little men to Me. Stop acting as if I won’t protect and love them until you do.

I climbed off the lap of my Savior knowing full well why the ache for my little men was still so fresh and real. It was not a curse I needed healed and released from. It was a dogmatic reminder to pray with a zeal for these boys until I see the face of my Savior. Oh, may that heartache never leave.

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