Love Deeply, Hold Loosely

I love control, plans, structure and knowing what is coming next. Don’t judge me, but I often read the end of a book before I finish the book. I know that wanting control doesn’t usually end well and I am no exception to that rule. However, I am learning to loosen the reigns a bit (only a little, let’s not get carried away).

I wish I could say this has been an easy process, but #life. Corrie Ten Boom said it best when she said, “Hold everything in your hands lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers open.” This process has been difficult, a constant pruning, but has yielded so much fruit. Parenting, anxiety and fostering have been the sharpest tools the Lord has used over the years to shape and mold.

My journey started with phone calls from school staff with behavior concerns for one of our kids. On a side note, anyone else dread seeing the school number? I have found it is rarely good news – either the nurse calling with a sick kid or a teacher/principal telling me what my child has done wrong. Working through my own perceived failures trying to understand, guide, and parent in a world that doesn’t see your child as you do. My response was anger. Anger that my kids didn’t live up to some type of expectation, anger that people couldn’t see what I saw, anger that it wasn’t easy. Yet, the Lord was faithful and proved himself trustworthy as he trimmed away at my selfishness, expectations, and my wanting to control and gently reminded me that he loves me and my boys and is trustworthy.

Hebrews 10:23 reminds us to,

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.”

As I learned to understand my wanting to control, I learned to leave my kids in the safe hands of the Lord and his plans. My job is to love, guide, encourage, and eventually to let go.

Learning this lesson through the years wasn’t enough. I still held back, and that tight reign led to anxiety attacks – racing heart, feeling like I wanted to crawl out of my skin, restless cycle of dark thoughts for days. Through this time of hopelessness, I saw God’s presence and provision daily through counseling, medicine and his word. I could vividly hear his voice asking so gently, “Do you trust?” and “Am I enough for you?” I found I had to learn to live within the darkness for a time. While no one likes pain and I yearned for an easy exit, I had to trust that my mind was safe in the arms of a faithful and good Lord. Psalm 23 was a refuge during these long weeks. Now, when I feel the anxiety creep back, it serves as my reminder to let go – of the burdens, the heaviness of the world, expectations of myself and others and whatever else that I’m holding onto.

Our current season of fostering has delivered the ultimate opportunity to love deeply and hold loosely. Rex and I had felt the call to foster care/adoption for several years, but never felt like the timing was right. We knew this journey would be hard on us, our boys, our resources and our village. Eventually, we both realized that our job is to be obedient and follow and trust that the Lord is big enough to take care of all the rest. Our first placement were two boys – a precious one-month-old and four-year-old. In our first few weeks we ran the gauntlet of appointments, visits, lice, oral surgery and a week-long stay in the pediatric intensive care unit between Christmas and New Year’s. We finally settled into a routine, met birth parents and it began to be clear that the boys’ stay with us would be temporary and that they would be returning home. Each visit reminded me that these sweet boys were not my own. Yet, a wise friend reminded me that even our biological kids are not ours. They belong to the one that knit them together in the womb and made them in His image. Yes, we deeply grieved their departure, but had the pleasure of loving them for a few short months and learned so much about the sweet tension between grief and gratitude.

We recently accepted our second placement, we have no idea what the future holds, but I have trust in the One who does. I am finally beginning to understand and embrace the freedom that comes from letting go. While still super scary at times, it is not without purpose, goodness or hope. All the while, holding fast to Psalm 63:8,

“My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.”

Heather Wolf
Director of Church Outreach