Band Aids on Bullet Wounds

Dear “children who are not mine but who have stolen my heart,”

I love you. I cannot imagine being a mother- is it really possible to love a child more than this? How will I survive so much overflowing emotion? Can my heart take it?

Today I cry for you. My mind and heart are wandering to the places you have been before I hugged and kissed you. I have not known even an ounce of the pain and suffering you have known and I have at least 15 years on you. You have been abandoned, abused (physically, sexually, verbally, emotionally), sick, starving, unloved, casted aside. And as I struggle to love you I know my hugs and kisses are like band aids on bullet wounds. My frail human love does not conquer all. It is not enough. Who was I to think it was? Love wasn’t enough for your mother when she left you on that street corner. Love wasn’t enough for your father when he tried and failed to get ARVs for you. Love wasn’t enough for your grandma who struggled to scrounge up enough food to feed you and your family each day.

I might come with money to buy food, medicine, and clothes. But I am empty when it comes to healing your wounds. I am powerless.

All praise and glory be to the one who is all powerful. The one who heals. The one who comes bearing living water while my earthly water falls to the ground. The one who can give you peace, love, joy, and acceptance. The one who has adopted us all into his family.

Dear children I will put aside my pride and face the realization that nothing I do can bring you the healing I so greatly desire for you.

And so I will carry you to Jesus.