His name is Isaac

This call was different than the dozens I had received before it. The caseworker on the other line said, “there was a baby born yesterday. It seems his mom has disappeared. Can you foster him while we try to locate her?” And then the very next thing she said sent chills down my spine.

I had already adopted 3 children from Korea. My heart was full of the joy they gave me. When they got a little bit older I decided to start fostering. Partially because I saw a huge need. Mostly because I selfishly wanted a baby in my arms at all times. It was never my intention to adopt again because um well, babies don’t stay babies forever. If I kept adopting they would keep growing up and I would end up like the old lady in the shoe.

But as the old saying goes, be careful what you wish for. I wished for babies and boy did I get them!! My house quickly became a revolving door for one baby right after the other. I loved every. single. minute of it. However, hear me when I say…it wasn’t easy. Far from it! I would get calls in the middle of the night. I met policemen in dark parking lots to receive a baby with nothing on but a dirty diaper. I spent countless hours in hospital rooms, doctor’s offices, stinky little visitation rooms, courtrooms. Sometimes I didn’t even know the baby’s name! I received death threats and had to be escorted by security at times. People think when you foster a baby that it’s just about taking care of a sweet smelling bundle of joy. Nope. It has very little to do with actually caring for the children and more to do with navigating a very cold and harsh system. And for the record, the babies rarely smelled sweet…they usually wreaked of cigarette smoke and what few belongings they had were kept in my garage because they smelled so bad.

Despite it all, I loved those babies as if they were my own…even if I only had them for as little as one day. Unfortunately, the inevitable always came. The day I had to hand them over to someone else. Sometimes I had the honor of handing them over to a couple eager to adopt. I loved being a part of their joyous experience. Sometimes I had the privilege of handpicking friends to adopt them. Other times, I had to pass them off into the unknown…to a mother who didn’t have resources to care for a very needy child. Regardless, I never got used to the sting of letting go. Afterwards, I typically went to bed, pulled the covers over my head and cried for days. It was just part of the process. Every time. The next day I would get a call for a new baby and the process would start all over again.

I fostered 33 children over the course of 10 years. Every time I handed a baby over, a little piece of my heart left with it. My heart grew weary and I became restless. I began to pray, “Lord, can’t I just keep one baby please? Please let me adopt again. I don’t have the strength to keep letting go.” I heard God gently whisper, “sacrifice the desire of your heart, just like Abraham sacrificed his son Isaac.”

Some time later God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!” “Here I am,” he replied. Then God said, “Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you.” – Genesis 22:1-2

I remember specifically where I was when He asked me to let go of my desires. I was on my way to hand over yet another baby. I was crying in my car on the way to the agency. My heart ached. I wasn’t just letting go of a baby that day. I was letting go of my heart. “Yes Lord, I will trust you EVEN IF I never adopt again. Even if I have to hand over a hundred more babies.” I trusted Him because I knew that He ALWAYS has better plans for me than I have for myself.

The very next day the phone rang. It was another baby in need. But this baby was different. This baby was abandoned. And this baby’s name was…ISAAC! Seriously??? Only God.

I brought all 4 pounds of him home that day and fell in love with him instantly. I adopted him shortly thereafter. My beautiful boy is 13-years-old now. He also bears the name “Gabriel” which means God is my strength. He wears it proudly. Gabe, as I affectionately call him, is a daily reminder of how God provides strength when we need it most. God met me when I cried out to Him in my weakness that day. He was testing me to see if I would trust Him as He has done so many times before. I no sooner sacrificed my heart, then He gave me so much more than I could have asked or imagined.

Friends, we reap such sweet rewards when we surrender all to Him. He doesn’t ask us to sacrifice our desires to be cruel or harsh. Quite the contrary. He’s waiting for us to let go so He can give us so much more. Sometimes we have a death grip on our hearts and He’s just waiting for us to simply say what Abraham said, “Here I am”. Loosen up. Let go. Trust Him with your heart. It will be worth it. Every. Single. Time.

Photo by Omar Lopez on Unsplash

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