Beautiful

I forget- a lot- that I'm not in this alone.

Mondays are hard. That's so cliche I hate to write it. But my Mondays twist my guts up and make it hard to breathe. Those are the afternoons the transporter peels my baby's fingers off of my shirt and buckles him into her car. His cries that translate, "why are you letting her do this?" are momentarily muffled as he tries to find comfort in his thumb. It works for a few seconds. I can hear him long after he's gone.

This Monday has been like every other since the courts reinstated his biological mother's overnight visits this past January.

But this morning started with a sweet time with Holt. He's my early riser, always up even before the baby. After I got up with Z and fed and changed him, Holt brought me The Chronicles of Narnia. I've been reading it to him out loud. We started last summer and then took a break at his request. We began again recently and are towards the end of the third book, The Horse and his Boy.

There is richness in so much of what C.S. Lewis writes, that it's hard to pick just a few, but this morning I was so moved that I had to stop and put it down. His words led to one of those "moments" you have as a parent that comes along once in a rare while.

Aslan (symbolizing both God and Jesus- Yes, I had to attempt to discuss the Trinity with Holt this morning before caffeine) had just revealed himself to Shasta. He explained how He had been working in Shasta's life all along.

I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay,a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.

I spoke about the words I often pray with him at bedtime- that Holt would hear and understand God's plan for his life and that he would know that in nowhere but the center of God's will would he find happiness.

I talked about how God had been at work in Shasta's life from the time he was a tiny baby, adrift at sea with his father and how now Shasta could see all the times and places in his life that Aslan/ God had interceded.

We finished our chapter and I felt this buoyant feeling of having one of those teaching opportunities with Holt. It was all the richer that we were the only ones up (other than Z) and snuggled on the couch for some treasured time together.

Later this morning I received a text that Z's transporter would be late and not would not pick him up til 6. 6 is what I braced myself for. I always immediately do the math. Exactly 24 hours away from home.

The afternoon passed. I gave him a bath. I packed his bag. I sang his special song over and over. I sing it a lot on Monday afternoon. I sing it immediately when he comes home on Tuesday. I have this mental picture of us losing him and thirty years from now him hearing this song. I just know, I really do, that somewhere in his heart, this song will strike something in him.

I have to take Juliana to Marietta, so I load all the kids up in the car. As I'm getting in, I get a call. She's early and she needs Z now. She's in my driveway in literally 35 seconds.

I unbuckle Z, stare into his sweet confused little face, and carry him to her car. The rest is a repeat of every Monday. Same bat time. Same bat channel.

I take Juliana and drop her off.

I'm driving home and I've settled into Sad. I'm just sitting there. Why, God? Why can't he be legally free like my friend's baby? Why wouldn't You want him to grow up Here?

And I think I'm a bit like Shasta. I don't think I really expected Him to answer:

"Who are you?" Shasta said, scarcely above a whisper.
"One who has waited long for you to speak....Tell me your sorrows."

And as I'm sitting there settled into Sad, Beautiful by Mercy Me begins to play on my radio. And I hear this-

Before you ever took a breath
Long before the world began
Of all the wonders He possessed
There was one more precious
Of all the earth and skies above
You're the one he madly loves enough to die
You're beautiful
You're beautiful
In His eyes

God has (because I'm thick) sent me the same message twice in the same day. He loves Z madly enough to die and He has been at work in his life before it ever even began. He was there when Z was awash in an ocean of drugs. He was there at his birth. He was there when the caseworker was deciding which family to call. He IS there with him every Monday as he leaves home. He is there in the car. He is there in his crib. He is there in the night when he wakes and longs for home. He is there.

And because He treasures Z and loves him in ways I can't understand, I don't have to sit in Sad. I don't have to linger in Fear. Because He also loves me madly enough to die and has been at work in my life before it ever began also. Because the sun doesn't rise without His nod. Because the balance of the universe depends on His hands. Because.

So tonight I will miss him. I will do the math until he's home. But today God sent me a good word twice. The words of Aslan pronounce, I tell no one any story but his own. And I'm listening.