Life is freaking hard sometimes. I do not always know how to articulate the bigger feelings, but as you get older it seems life gets harder not any easier. I guess in some ways, it is easier, but I think the more you understand and the more you feel the more difficult it can seem.
During a particularly hard time in my life I remember having this struggle with the idea that God allows us to struggle and go through hard things. I didn’t understand why he would allow suffering and hard things if he really loved us. I mean-not a terrible question right? So many people would tell me that God was in control and his ways are better and he is still good. Which, if I am honest, being told those things made me more angry. I KNOW he is in control and still allows hard things to happen.
It was during a particularly hard time in my life that I was lovingly forced to have a perspective shift that changed everything.
When my oldest son was just a baby, he wasn’t actually my son. He was my foster son. We first met him when he was a week old and everything in his case was calm for months and months. We supported reunification, but there came a point where the court said that wasn’t possible. We were actually told we would be his adoptive parents. Then one day and one phone call changed everything. Sparing the details that we hold close to our family for his sake, basically, we expected/anticipated/were told that he would most likely be leaving our home at any point. We were the only home/family/parents he had ever known and he was over a year old at this point. He already felt like my son, but the fact is he wasn’t and he would have left us for strangers. It was gut wrenching. I remember waking up multiple times in the night to check on him. I had to have him near me. I couldn’t leave him with anyone. It was so hard, and I lived in what felt like constant panic.
Several months into this ordeal I was talking to a friend. She had noticed me withdrawing from our life to keep us at home together in case the baby were to leave. I wanted to soak up every minute with him and ensure he would know we loved him if he had to go. But, I wasn’t sleeping and the weight of the anxiety was crushing. It was hard to function.
My friend asked me a pointed question that I don’t think I will ever forget.
She looked straight into my eyes and asked, “If he were to leave, could you still say that God is still good.”
My immediate answer was no. Just thinking of him leaving made me almost sick to my stomach. If he were to leave, what purpose would that serve? How could God be good if he separated the baby from the only family he ever knew? How was that good? I was angry and hurt, but that was all rooted in fear. I was afraid of the answer. She challenged me to change my thoughts and focus. She challenged me to really process life as “if x happens, do I believe God is still good.” I left that conversation angry, confused, hurt, and almost offended.
Over the next many months I wrestled with that question. If he left and tore our family apart, was God still good? If he was forced to leave and I saw him with another family–did I believe that God still was great? If I never became a mother due to the broken system–could I really say that I believed that God’s plans were better than my own? It was a constant battle of heart and mind to really evaluate what I felt and believed to be true.
It all culminated on the beach in Florida on a dreary and overcast day. I had taken a long weekend to visit family and the baby whom I loved so much was allowed to travel with me at the last minute. I sat there with my best friend/cousin to watch the waves move in and out. He didn’t really like the sand…it was so cold on his little toes! But, he loved watching the waves with me. It was in that exact random moment that emotion hit me like the waves we were watching. I knew and could say that even if he were to leave, that God was still good. I still didn’t want him to leave and I still wanted to be his mom one day. But in that moment on the cold sand, I decided that if our paths were to separate that God loved him more than I ever could and he would always be with him. At that moment, I believed that God was still good even then.
I held Tripp close as he snuggled in to keep warm. He looked up at me with his big blue eyes and said “mama.” It was the first time he ever called me that.
Three months later, he became my son and I became his forever mama.
I know this illustration is a “good” one. This was a happy story that worked out in the end, but what about the situations that don’t work out so well?
If that doesn’t work out, do you believe he is still good?
What about when they reject you?
What about when you pray for someone to be healed and they pass away? What about then?
What about when you are lonely?
What about when you mess up…again?
What about when there is no one left?
What about when the church lets you down?
What about when you feel broken or unlovable?
What about if you lose everything?
If that happens, do you still believe God is good?
Even then, God is still good.
That challenge has strengthened my faith, and it is something I have to remind myself during the highs and lows of life. I’m so glad he is still good.
