Today of all days, I find myself a little heavy hearted. I know. How could that be? I had these beautiful, goofy children to enjoy today:
And don’t get me wrong. They were (and are) wonderful and we shared a lovely day. But in the back of my mind, I remembered something I wrote in a blog post last Mother’s Day.
I was describing the arduous process of adoption and concluded by saying, “Quite the process, but it’ll be worth it to have this Mother’s Day be Justin’s last one without a mother.”
We now know that that wasn’t true. Through no fault of his own, and no fault of our own, Justin still does not have a mother. More properly, he does not have an earthly mother. Thank you Jesus, for giving us Mary. In that way, he always has and always will have a heavenly mother. But for now, during this pilgrimage on earth, Justin is alone.
And so I am heavy hearted.
My mind goes back to children we met while visiting with Paul. The ones in his laying room who have been so neglected. The sweet faces that I gently stroked with my hand as I talked to them, always being careful not to linger too long or try to pick them up and accidentally upset the nannies in the room.
Friends, what will we do for these children? They are least among us.
Babies who are unloved, unwanted, tossed aside.
This sounds familiar to those of us who call ourselves pro-life.
So what will we do?
Can we learn more, and be advocates for these children? I want to shout out the story of the orphan. I want people to hear it. I want people to want to hear it, and to not be afraid of it. What is this life about, if it is not about loving those that the world sees as unlovable?
Can we give a child our family? I think we convince ourselves that adoption, and especially adoption of a child with special needs, is something that is meant for others but not for us. That it is a special calling that a select few receive. I thought that for a long time. But now, after looking deep into the eyes of those children we left behind, I have to challenge it. In the case of adoption, do we think it is only for infertile couples? Only for the rich who can easily afford it? I think we keep ourselves comfortable when we think that doing something bold, and unusual, and risky is only meant for certain people. I think we keep ourselves comfortable when we believe that we have to feel a strong calling or desire to do something in order to actually do it.
The world promises you comfort, but you were not made for comfort.
You were made for greatness. -Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI
There is a beautiful freedom in God’s will. Lightening does not need to strike and continents do not need to quake in order for us to make a bold move in life. If what we choose is moral and done with a good intention, we can go forward, trusting in the guidance of the Holy Spirit and blessing of the Father.
Ultimately, can we give a child Christ? The family is a sign of the Trinity-a constant, always generous exchange of love between persons. This is what these children are missing. Yes, they need medical care. Yes, they need food. Yes, they need someone to hold them, teach them, and believe in them. But most of all, they need to know their God- the One who died for them. They come to know Him through Love. Of being loved by someone, and loving in return.
They lie in cribs and wait for this.
What are we waiting for?