Strong

I've never been strong.  I was labeled a "cry baby" at a very early age (rightfully so).  I remember getting my feelings hurt over the smallest things, I still do.  Ma always said that I wore my feelings on my sleeves, she does too.  It's something we've always shared.  I'm not good at "keeping it together" I usually break under the pressure before others do. 

I've made it my mission to be strong this time around.  I knew from the moment the little boys arrived that despite what caseworkers said the likely hood of us not keeping the boys ALWAYS exists.  We've rode this roller coaster far to long to expect any different.  From the moment we got the official word I knew this time would be different for me.  I knew who I had to be.  The option to fall apart under the weight of this is no longer an option. 

For the most part I think I've done ok.  Whenever I feel myself slipping I remind myself that this is a season we will get through.  Sometimes that works.  Sometimes it does nothing to block the reality of the situation. 

My soft spot towards the biological family still exists, I'm so thankful that isn't sewing a bitter seed inside me. 

What hurts the most is finally coming to the realization that we are no longer home.  I was so excited about the boys coming home...and out of nowhere it hit me harder than I can ever express.  We aren't there home anymore. 

We were there home at a time when they needed us most.  Now, that season is ending and a new one will begin for everyone.  That is a hard pill to swallow.  It doesn't stop my love for them, nothing will ever stop my love for them.  I was there mother.  They were my sons.  I no longer hold that role and that makes me so sad. 

I realize more and more that I'm weak.  I'm not strong...but I know who is.  So, I'm allowing myself to cry.  I'm allowing myself to feel the loss.  I'm going to grieve.  I can now see that being strong isn't willing myself to smile and put on my brave face.  Being strong isn't saying the right things.  I had the definition wrong all this time.  Being strong is feeling the heartbreak and still believing that no matter what comes, and no matter what leaves blessed be the name of the Lord.  The peace that brings carries me through, because I can no longer stand. 

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.  Blessed be the Name of the Lord.