By Jordyn Glaser
“The Life Letters” is an ongoing series designed to encourage foster and adoptive parents, as well as provide inspiration and insight to all pro-life readers.
(Oregon Right to Life) — I was born with multiple heart defects, the same complex defects that took the life of my older sister. Needless to say, I began having regular echocardiograms and EKGs before I could even walk.
I had my first open-heart surgery the week of my eighth birthday and another surgery as a freshman in high school. Fast forward to today, and I still go in for my annual testing and evaluations. My aortic valve is functioning, but ultimately, we are just watching and waiting for it to fail. I always find it slightly humorous when the doctor runs through the list of symptoms of heart failure, and at the top of the list is exhaustion.
Hey, Doc – I’ve got six kids, so I’m going to need a bit more to work off of.
Two summers ago, I went to the cardiologist for my scheduled exams, but this appointment was different for all the wrong reasons. I sat on the crinkly paper and listened to the doctor explain that my numbers were showing signs of decline, and if I continued at this rate, I would need a new heart valve in the near future.
People tend to panic a bit when they hear “heart failure,” so I stick to sharing news with my inner circle. The week after that fateful appointment, I shared the update with a dear friend. Upon hearing the news, she hugged me and offered words of comfort, “I will be praying for healing.”
In a moment of unfiltered honesty, I replied, “Oh, it’s okay, I’m fine, I don’t need healing.”
She looked at me, blinking with cartoon-style confusion displayed on her face. “That came out wrong,” I said to break the awkward silence. “What I meant was, I know God can heal me, but I don’t need healing to trust him on this. He made me exactly as He intended; He didn’t mess up. So if this is the story He wants me to walk out, I am all right with that.”
Our Stories
As I sit here and type these words, I’m looking across the table at my 15-month-old foster daughter. Her bright blue eyes are nothing like my shade of hazel. And her soft, looping curls differ from my straight locks. But one feature in which we perfectly match is the thin white scar from open-heart surgery. God used the parts of my story that I deemed as brokenness. The very same pain that I prayed for God to take away, He used to write a new chapter. What I viewed as suffering, He redeemed and used for His glory. I couldn’t have pieced this together even if I tried.
But God did.
As parents, we will be required to walk through hard things with our children. Adoption and fostering stem from pain and brokenness, and we cannot shield our children from the testimony God is writing out for them. But we can faithfully remind our children that even though we might not understand it all, we can trust that God did not mess up and He will not abandon them in the flames. Just as we see in Daniel 3, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stepped into the furnace knowing that God could save them, but they also understood that He might not. They trusted that God was in control, and then they walked forward in full surrender. Parenthood – whether biological, adoptive, or fostering – will undoubtedly put us in the flames. It will stretch our faith in ways we didn’t even know we needed to anticipate, and although we do not control the outcomes, we do control the posture of our hearts. We can hold our families with an open hand, knowing that God can save, heal, and intervene in our stories.
But if not, He is still good.
In the Flames
I have had a lifetime to come to terms with the story God has given me. I may have learned how to accept my health diagnosis, but, to be fully transparent, relinquishing control and stepping into full surrender feels incredibly uncomfortable in other areas of my life – especially when it comes to my children. I trust God – but I still want to fix things. I want healing from trauma to come quickly, I want physical health to be restored, and I want attachment to happen rapidly. Mostly, I don’t want my children to have to live out the painful parts in life.
But that’s just not the way life works.
We must remember that while we might not understand the full plan or see the entire playing field, God does. And even better news is that He loves our children even more than we do.
As parents, we will be required to walk through hard things on this journey. We are familiar with the tension of living beyond our own ability, and it requires a level of surrender that feels uncomfortable. So when you find yourself in the flames, remember that God is in the fire with you – no matter the outcome.
He knows what He is doing, and you can trust Him with it.
God can. But if not, He is still good.
