Twelve years ago I gave birth to my fourth child. It was unexpected, scary and yet so exciting. All of the possibilities lie ahead of us...dreams of where she would go, who she would impact, the way she would impact the kingdom. God blessed me with two women who would come alongside and help raise her for the first five years. Co-parenting can at times be difficult, but we pushed through, learned a lot about ourselves and took care of the baby. We had a difficult couple of toddler years when it was all hands on deck. We came very close to losing her once, but we pulled together, gave her to God and watched as He did what only he could do.
When she was five, it was time for the other moms to move on to raising other babies and so my now ex-husband and I were left to continue to raise our now 5 year old. She began to thrive and we took joy at seeing how she would touch others and dreamed of what possibilities lie ahead. We had lots of babysitters through those years...all of them treating her as if they were her next of kin. They worked tirelessly and for little pay, just to watch her grow.
At age seven, we went through a divorce and I became a single mom. I still had lots of great babysitters and helpers. After all, it DOES take a village! We worked hard at keeping her healthy and as all parents, many times that comes at a sacrifice to you. It was hard work...still scary and still exciting. She was reaching so many people and even helping women in Africa begin their own journey of motherhood.
When she was ten, circumstances caused us to consider moving. I briefly thought about giving her up for adoption because I began to doubt my abilities to parent and wasn't sure I was the best person for the job. But how do you give up on your child? We once again pushed through, mustered up all of the strength we could find, and with the help of our village we moved into our beautiful new home. It was so exciting as so many new friends came to visit. I burst with pride at how my baby had grown into such a beautiful 10 year old! Just like a parent at a school play when your kid has the leading role or the baseball player hits a home-run, you delight in their accomplishments knowing it is God who gave them the ability, but He entrusted them to YOU!
Then when she was 11, construction started in our neighborhood and people stopped coming. The essential avenues to food and water were blocked and she began to suffer. Money was tight and getting tighter. Babysitters were moving on to other jobs and there were fewer hands to help. She was suffering and even though I was consulting with those who know way more than me, little could be done. We were just getting by. In January of 2020, I thought I had lost her. I grieved, felt like a failure, got angry at the people who made such a mess of the neighborhood, but mostly I prayed. In February she really perked up and just like a person who is dying rallies right before the end, we thought maybe she was going to make it after all.
And then, it hit...Corona virus. They said the most vulnerable victims are the ones who have underlying conditions and that is true. We pushed through the first couple of weeks...waiting for the help that the government promised only to find out that really that help was only for the rich. We applied for aid everywhere we could find, all to no avail. Good friends rallied to help...and it did...but it was too little too late. Many people have suffered many losses to this killer...but to each person, that loss looks different. To me, it's the loss of a dream...twelve years of work that will fade into a memory. Twelve years of joy and tears and frustration and elation and fear and peace. Twelve years of greeting visitors as they come through our Front Door. Twelve years of sharing with those that would listen about THE DOOR.
I'm bone weary. Tired doesn't begin to name the feeling. The thought of cleaning out her room once she's gone...what do do with all of her things...all of the final paperwork...it's all too overwhelming to think about right now. I think I am coming out of the denial phase of grief and moving through anger.
What I have been praying is that God would open doors that no man can shut and that He would shut doors no man can open. I feel the door shutting and I wonder what I will do with my life when I have no one else at home to mother. I know He has a plan. I know He has not forgotten me. I know He loves me but the rest is all a mystery. So, for now, I'm just going to give myself space to grieve and brace for the days ahead...all of which are held in His hands.
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