just to love

I've been slowly reading a new book, Fostered, by Tori Hope Peterson...Mrs. Universe 2021's story of growing up in an abusive, unstable home, passing through the revolving door of 12 different homes of foster care, and how Jesus pursued her, saved her and made a way. It's had me all shook up, especially after our first experience of genuine and heartbreaking trauma with one of our girls this weekend. 

Tori says, in the middle of her heavy story, that it is not our job to save. Just to love.

That's a good word, isn't it. 

Every time I repeat that line, a burden is lifted. 

I have done a terrible job saving these girls from the broken of their lives and pasts. A shoddy job saving any of my children from pain...loss...heartbreak...sin. There's no hope for me saving any of the people I heavily pray for, or redeeming any situation, or providing any rescues from hard. Can't save Dad any more than I could Mom, can't save Haiti any more than I can America, can't even save my children any more than I can anyone else's. 

But if my job is just to love?

I held a hysterical human in my lap, held her and rocked her and loved her. Matt walked with her, two hours, and listened and learned and loved. I painted whiskers on a Nora-kitty and scoured Goodwill for pirate pieces. I patiently sang an exhausted and emotional Ben to bed after a good 20 minute bawl about his pajamas being twisted, made candy apples with a slew of begging kiddos, listened genuinely to the ridiculous but sincere roller coasters of several tweenagers and their emotions, drove 10 people 10 places because they really wanted to go...all just since Saturday morning. 

I am doing NO great things and wearing no capes and not saving, not saving, even where I TRY and WISH. 

But if it's just to love?

I'm doing that. 

If it's just to love and pray