They took our daughter…
Only months old, porcelain face, perfect in every way.
The one we held through seizures, blue skin, tiny bottles, and stopped heart beats; carefully feeding her just ounces every two hours, day and night, in hopes to keep her alive.
Her body weight finally went up from three pounds to regular birth weight when the ex-addict social worker snatched her from our sight.
No warning. Not even time to pack her bags.
Grieving seemed to swallow us alive…until we answered another call.
Another preemie, suffering from the same kind of drug withdrawals, sitting in the hospital, waiting for a foster family to take her.
Without even praying, we shout, “yes”, like wide-eyed children not even thinking through the consequences.
We try covering up heartache with another face, instead of dealing with the pain and accepting the reality of ministry…life isn’t always picture perfect.
Her high-pitched cry was…
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Today, will you join me over at Missional Women, as I write about loss, and running ahead of God?
