The weight of the world on my shoulders

I knew there would be a day where all the things I read in the adoption books on loss and grief would come in handy.  As I closed out the chapter I was reading on Friday night on those very subjects, I prepared my heart and prayed "Dear Jesus, whatever it is that my little boy will have gone through before he is in my arms, allow him the ability to trust us enough to truly and openly grieve his loss". 

Little did I know how quickly I would draw from those chapters.  Little did I know just who the Lord would use that prayer for.

Saturday morning was a busy one.  Doug and the big kids were off early to work a Ground to Cup event and Maliah and I began to busy ourselves with getting ready to run a few Saturday errands.  Shooing Maliah off to go put on her clothes, I came in to find her sitting, half dressed and not at all ready for our day, on her bedroom floor.  She was wearing something, however, that did catch my attention.  She was wearing a sadness I had never before seen.

"Maliah what's wrong baby, is something wrong?"

Looking up from where she sat, her eyes could have told a story of their own.  Through her tears, she spoke;

"I miss my birf Mommy, but I don't even know who she is"

GULP!  Did I hear her just right.  I mean, we've had lots of conversations about her "birth Mommy" and that God grew her in another Mommy's tummy.  But this, this wasn't quite the conversation I was prepared for ... or at least one I thought at 5.5 years old we'd be having.  Was she really expressing such a loss?  Such a grief?  

Sitting down on the floor, I looked Maliah right into her big, tear filled eyes.

Oh, sweet Maliah, I am so sorry you feel so sad.  I am so so sorry that you miss your birth Mommy"

Maliah, crying uncontrollably by this point , "I'm sad because I miss her.  I want my birf Mommy.  I want to know her.  Why don't I know her?"

Choking back my own tears and swallowing deep the lump that begins to fill my throat, I muddle through a answer ...

"Baby, I don't know who your birf Mommy is, but Jesus does and we can pray for her.  I wish I knew her.  And Maliah, thank you for sharing with me your sadness for her.  Mommy wishes I could take it away for you.  Do you want to pray together for her?"

Maliah sits in my arms and sobs.  Not a cry that is attention seeking (as she can do at times).  Not a cry that says "I'm tired".  No, this time it's a cry from the deepest part of her being.  This time she sobs like I have never seen.  Tears filled my shirt as my little girl curled up on my lap and wept.  I believe in that moment.  He wept too.  

This was it.  All these days and nights I had been preparing my heart and my head full of the knowledge I needed of what to do for my little boy as he experienced (es) "loss and grief" upon his arrival home.  But all the while, the Lord was preparing me too for this moment.  For the moment that he knew would be right around the corner.  The moment he knew, that I didn't know, would come so soon. The moment that would stop my morning and everything I had planned to do ... to do one thing ... validate my little GIRL'S broken heart!

I didn't realize this day would come so soon.  I don't think I had fathomed that my little girl at such a young age would have the ability to describe with words a great sadness that would overtake her.  I am actually not sure how common that is ... to be able to link those concepts together at such a young age.  I do believe, that part of the reason Maliah could do so was because for as long as she's been home we have not only celebrated her adoption, but shared little by little the truth of her story with her.  It's not a secret we keep from her.  It's her story.  She knows she has a "birf" Mommy and she knows that she didn't grow in my belly like her big brother and big sister did.  She talks of China, coming home on a plane and of how Jesus made her and gave her to us.   She knows these things with joy .. the joy of her redemption!   

But on Saturday, July  30th, my little girl began to feel the weight of that story.  On Saturday, July 30th, my little girl showed me the true weight of her story.  And in those moments allowed me to hold her, love her and validate those feelings as she wept.  In those moments she allowed me to carry her weight ... for even just a while ... on my shoulders.  It. was. heavy.

I am humbled.  I am honored.

*The next day, I would learn that a massive storm was heading towards an area of China called "Hainan" on the very day my little girl felt such a great sadness and intensity to pray.  This area just happens to be directly next to (virtually attached) to Maliah's birth city, Xuwen.  On the very Saturday that my girl felt prompted to pray for her "Birf" Mommy,  75,000 people were being evacuated from the area as their lives were in danger.  
Perhaps the Chinese Proverb "The Red Thread" isn't so far off after all ... 


"An invisible red thread connects those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The thread may stretch or tangle, but never break."