Wednesday, March 18, 2015

I Had a Son Named Elisha

Ten years ago today, a 10 month old little boy was placed in my arms.

We named him Elisha.

He was a special needs baby who desperately needed a loving home. He was cross-eyed and had kidney failure. He couldn't turn over or hold his head up. But instantly, I was his mom. For the first time in my adoptive mothering I held him next to my bare chest and attempted to nurse him. I envisioned taking him to therapy, as I had done with some of my other lambs. I knew from experience love could conquer so much and his life would never be the same. His smile lit up his face. He had cute little dimples. His new family did nothing but dote on him from the time we brought him home from South Florida.

But our life was never the same.

On the third day of becoming his family, we received a dreaded phone call. Our attorney called to let us know that his birth mother called and changed her mind. (Florida Law states that if a baby is over 6 months old, she has 3 days to change her decision.)

My world crashed down around me. I held my dear Elisha all night and wept, not understanding why. Some dear friends took our older three children the next day and I said goodbye to my precious son, whom I had already born from my heart. My dear love took him and his possessions and met our attorney at the train station to hand him over to the woman who bore him. Mr. Cartwright had the perspective that I wish I could have had. As he handed my sweet Elisha to her, he spoke to her kindly and compassionately. He told her that there is Someone Who knows her pain. Someone Who gave up His only Son to death.

For Her. For Elisha. For the world.

And then proceeded to give her the Gospel message.

Days passed. The tears were fewer. Until 2 weeks later.

I received a telephone call from a detective. The words pierced my soul. My hands were shaking. "I am calling in reference to the death of an infant that has previously been in your care." WHAT!!!???!

Yes, Elisha was dead. Stories did not add up and there was an investigation of possible foul play. Pain ripped through my heart. The ending and outcome of this part of our story is still unknown. I never heard back as to what occurred.

On the other hand, I became angry. No, not a soul knew, but my own. I wrestled and wrestled. God was patient. I learned so much through this difficult time.

There are times in our lives when there are no answers. There is no understanding as to why. But one thing I learned is God is still to be trusted. Elisha is in a much better place than he would have been for the rest of his young days. I don't know why God chose to take him home. Even if someone else made the human decision to end his life, God still was sovereign over it.

Today as decisions need to be made concerning other things in my life, I can still trust my Creator.  I know pain seems so strong. But God's grace and love is stronger.

Who knows? Maybe the woman who carried Elisha and gave birth came to know my Savior through all of this. Though we will never know, GOD IS TRUSTWORTHY!

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