Friday, July 27, 2012

The Other Woman

I enter the room and our eyes meet.  Our smiles are friendly, but mostly tentative....nervous and unsure. We have much in common and nothing at all.  Both mothers, yet living two separate lives.

I wonder what she thinks of me, I wonder what to make of her.  Should I keep my distance and be respectful of the uncomfortableness or should I reach out and show the love, concern and broken-heartedness I feel for her.

I want to pretend that I don't know the things I know about her...I want to treat her like someone I've recently met, and get to know her by asking questions and listening as she tells me the things she wants me to hear, the way normal people do when making a new acquaintance.

The football helmet weighs heavy and awkward in my hands.  He wanted me to bring it so he could show her, but now it feels like I am taunting with it.

Desperately, I want to take her hands, look her in the eye and beg her to understand that I am no better than her....that really the only difference is the Grace that has been poured out on my life.  That, just like her, I am so undeserving.

I want to tell her these things just as badly as I want to flee from the room as fast as I can.

This son who she bore, who carries around a piece of her heart, is the one who I now tuck into bed every night.

He puts on his helmet, proud to show her.  She looks at him and I recognize the flicker in her eyes.

He looks so old, doesn't he?

Yes, she replies wistfully.  And in the baseball picture, too.  And in all these moments that are happening while we are apart.

After a moment of silence, I gently urge Z to hurry because we are already late for practice.

As we turn to leave, I give her a last parting smile.  I hope it communicates that I will take good care of her son while he is entrusted to us.  That, while we are treating him as our own, I will not try to take the place of his first love.  That I pray for her, pray for him, pray for us.  And that I know Someone who loves her and can heal her.

I'm speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him
Romans 12:3


phillips phamily mama said...

Heartfelt and heart-wrenching.

sara said...

Lisa, have you read the book "The Middle Mom"? So good. praying for you!!

Meg A. said...

Bawling. So heart-wrenching, so beautiful.

lily said...

So beautifully written; your words touch my heart.

Amy said...

so proud of you!

Linda said...

I'm glad there are foster mothers like you!

This was so beautiful.

He is in good hands!

And God is watching after him. I pray his birth mom will come to know the love of Jesus. You are showing her by caring for her son...and by showing her the grace of God!

Linda @ Truthful Tidbits

Momagoose said...

Chill bumps all over. Beautifully stated! You are an amazing writer and an amazing woman! I admire you and thank you for who you are and what you are doing! So inspiring and beautiful! wow!