I don’t know why God chose me to carry your cross. But I carry it willingly however heavy it is. Some days it brings me to my knees. But God has provided abundant graces and many helpers for those times. At those times we all carry your cross together.
You are never far from my mind, my sister. Every day, I look into their deep brown eyes and wonder if those eyes came from you. I wonder if your eyes show the same sadness and fear, if they’ve ever shown the same warmth of love that our son’s show when he looks at me.
He’s a miracle, you know. He has come through God-only-knows-what and still he loves. Still, he trusts. He’s one of the bravest people I have ever met. When he looks at me and says “I love you, Mama” I am shaken to my very core because I know that it has cost him everything to tell me so. It should have been yours to hear. And I treasure it all the more because of that. He’s so smart. He works so hard in spite of the struggles he has. He tries new things even though the starting terrifies him. He drinks in every new experience like a much younger child. But he is also maturing into an amazing young man, a sweet and caring older brother to his new brothers and sisters. He is tender and patient and kind. He talks to me about growing up to help people, to rescue other kids like him. I mourn for your loss, my sister. You’re missing this.
Your daughter – our daughter – is buried deep inside herself. She lives in a constant state of terror. She’s safe here but she doesn’t understand that. Her wounds will take a long, long time to heal. And until they do, she can’t move forward. She can’t learn, or mature, or love. Not truly. She doesn’t know that family is a safe place, that adults are trustworthy. She doesn’t know that the world is a place full of love and joy. Because of this, she may never be able to fall in love –with a worthy man, with God, with herself. She may never experience for herself the love that mothers have for their children, that fierce, primal love. You couldn’t have known what would happen to her. I pray you didn’t know. Or maybe the same thing happened to you and you couldn’t give these two children what they needed. And if that is the case then I am so sorry for what happened to you. I am so very sorry. I wish someone had been there to rescue you, too. Thank God someone rescued her. By the grace of God, she will triumph.
I will carry this cross, your cross, now my cross. I will care for the children you could not care for. I will heal their bodies, and work to heal their broken spirits. I will do this for you and for them. I am blessed to be entrusted with this ministry.
These children link us together, you and me, dear sister. We have never seen each other’s faces, never spoken a word to each other, never taken each other by the hand, but we are so very close. I wish you love. I wish you all that is good.
One day, when we have both finally laid down our crosses, I pray, we all will meet in Heaven. On that day, I will embrace you, my sister, and I will introduce you to my children, your children, OUR children. His children. And we will see the fulfillment of His plan for all of us and how He has brought all things to good.
