A day of giving back

Today's a big day. July 1st. The second half of the year. 

Right before Christmas, I sat with a friend who'd just lost a baby boy who stole her heart, losing the chance to adopt him. We connected. I'd been there. That night she joined the Failed Adoption Grief Support Group that God had me start years after I'd healed from own grief. 

Today that friend adopted that little boy and made him her son forever. God gave him back to her. My heart swells with joy for her. I've been there, too. 

But today I held my hands open in prayer for the son God gave back to me nine years ago and realized God is asking me to give him back to Him--again. To place him back in His hands and trust His guidance and protection over my son. Today he pays his first month's rent payment and picks up his key for his first apartment. Though we won't be moving him in until tomorrow, today is the day he starts his independent life. 

He's 24 1/2 years old. He's done well for himself, has a good job, makes good money--far more than Mike or I even came close to making at that age. Setting goals for himself that we sadly doubted and suggested were unrealistic, but he went after them anyway and achieved them. Do I see flaws that may be stumbling blocks in his future? Of course. What person in their 20's doesn't fall a time or two out of a mix of over-confidence, immaturity, and naivety? Despite those flaws, I see a young man determined to become someone. I am excited for him to take these steps to start life on his own, but I hate that I'll be so far and can't stop in to say hi or meet him for lunch occasionally. Though I know without a doubt that God orchestrated this entire move, it hurts to know we're saying goodbye to the last 9 years of life together. But it seems like God and I have been playing this game of giving back with this boy for a long time. 

Today my dearest friend woke up to an empty bed, the realization that the high school sweetheart God gave her, took away, gave her back, and then nearly took away to heart disease early in their marriage, now resided in heaven. Two and a half years with cancer, going back and forth with chemos and different treatments, on and off hospice, begging God for healing. And today she faced the reality that God finally asked her to give him back. My heart hurts deeply for her and her kids. I hate that when she needs her close friends the most, I'm leaving. 

I know we'll stay close, as we connect a lot through texting and facebook. She knows I'll always pray for her. But I sure do hate the fact that we can't just meet for coffee or spend an hour together on my front porch. That I can't drop a gift off on her doorstep or sit on her couch and talk when things are tough. She can't shop at my garage sales from her phone and swing by to pick up her goodies. We won't teach the same grade in the same district anymore and pin each other's pictures on our computers while in a zoom meeting with over a hundred teachers. We can't watch each other's animals at the last minute when we realize we forgot to arrange for someone, and we won't live right down the road from each other anymore. 

I've obviously got a lot on my heart today. 

It's definitely a big day with a lot to take in and process. 

I have peace about the adventure ahead and look forward to so many things, but this week of lasts and giving back to God is definitely starting to hit me. Closing a chapter is necessary in order to open a new one, but it doesn't mean it's not hard.