the hardest job.

Even with all of the “mommy-wars” out there attempting to split hairs over bedtimes and food choices and parenting styles, I think we mommas can all agree on one thing: this high calling of raising little people is quite possibly the hardest job in all the world. 


And, I have had the honor and privilege of learning another lesson: this high calling of raising a little person with a broken heart is absolutely the hardest job in all the world. 

Adoption is beautiful. In fact, there are times when it is breathtakingly beautiful. When you adopt a precious one who has lived a life full of brokenness and loss, you gain a front row seat to watch God’s redemptive power at work on a daily basis.

Yet, you also gain a front row seat for more than just joy and beauty and adorable family photos. When this new little one joins your family, you find yourself smack-dab in the center of a trauma ward. Your peaceful home suddenly becomes a place of hostility and stress and pain.

You find yourself tip-toeing around this little person, never knowing when your next move will set off a rage or cause a complete shutdown.

Your heart is on the line for hurt upon hurt. This little person doesn’t hurt you on purpose. In fact, she doesn’t even realize what she is doing most of the time. You tell yourself not to take it personally {which hardly ever happens}.

You learn that love is a verb. You can love with actions and words even when your heart is weary. You can muster up the courage to get back in the ring and try again. You learn that His mercies really are new every day. 

You research the developing brain and the effects of early neglect and hunger and loss. You read articles and books, watch videos, listen to podcasts and seek help from professionals.

You often feel broken and ill-equipped, you make mistakes, you seek forgiveness. You question your responses and reactions, you often feel like you’re failing.

You quickly learn that isolation is a tool of the enemy. 

You surround yourself with safe people. Friends you text at all hours. Prayer warriors, encouragers, truth bearers. You seek authenticity, you need people who can simply say,  “me too, friend. Me too.”

The enemy wants us to feel alone in our pain, to think we are the only ones struggling, to look at the photos and the status updates and believe the lie that we don’t measure up.

God desires for us to believe TRUTH. 

The truth is that most of us have no idea what we are doing most days. The truth is we are all ill-equipped. The truth is, God works best when we come to the end of ourselves and rest in Him alone.

As we approach the one-year anniversary of Sylvie joining our family, I admit defeat. I admit that my human ability is not enough. But, God. God is. He can redeem all that has been lost and hurt. He can and He will. He can heal her broken heart. He can fill the hurting places with His love.


My Hope is in Him alone.