As many of you know, we have a new little guy at our house.  He’s been here for almost 2 months already, first as just a safe family, and then to be adopted.  I’ve know his mom since before he was born, so its been a bittersweet season for me.  I’m thrilled we get to adopt him, and likely complete our family with this little bundle of love….and yet I’m so sad for her, that she was not able to parent him for more than 6 months.  It’s hard to celebrate in the middle of her tragedy.  We will have an open adoption and she will have every opportunity to know him and follow him as he grows up.  

For a few weeks now, when I think of her, I think of conversations we had when little Jo was still in her belly, things like her dreaming of giving him a good life, of making better choices than she had with previous children.  She dreamed and promised to do it “right” this time so that he could have everything he needed and wanted, and that he would be happy.  Somewhere along the line, of my considering all of this, I came to a Truth.  The truth is this.  Jo’s birth mom knew she would do everything possible to care for him, and love him, and give him a good life.  Neither she or I understood at the beginning, that she would need my help to do it.  Neither of us expected to fulfill her dreams for him….by placing him in my arms, in my family, in my journey.  But she did.  I said yes, and he is here.  He will have a really good life with brothers and sisters and grandparents and friends who love and adore and celebrate him.  His parents will give him what he needs, and often what he wants, too.  

Today I got a letter in the mail from Jo’s birth mom.  She’s in prison and this was the first letter.  We’ve talked often on the phone, but there was something more concrete in her letter, written in her handwriting….to me.  In the letter, she said every bit of that.  She said she tried her hardest and did her best and needed help.  She said she was so happy that Jo was here with us and that she knew we would give him a good life…..this letter is treasure to me.  Not only will it help little Jo some day, when he is grieving, but it will help me.  I heard the Holy Spirit whispering this truth to me, but in my worldly days of fear and doubt and weakness, I was hard-pressed to grab hold of it.  I will now.  

Little Jo needed her to give him life, and he needed us to take hold of his little life and guide him forward….and so that’s how this thing looks now.  I hope she writes me dozens more letters like this over the years. I wish I had them for our other adopted child….but at least I have this one for Jo.