A picture of amazing grace
My office has plenty of pictures of Grace. You see my almost 8 year old daughter’s name is Grace. And if I might be boastful for a moment, she is truly an “Amazing Grace”. However I observed something at work the other day that was a truest picture of God’s Grace I have seen in quite some time. (I have changed names for confidentiality).
Jimmy had died. It was a bit shock, he had been doing pretty good. Jimmy was classified as a medically fragile foster child. He had multiple problems that required constant care. The foster family had dedicated 2 years of their life into caring for this child who could give very little back. He had not communicated verbally since a seizure in the hospital the day the family met him. He could smile and coo but that was it. He required around the clock care. And this family had given him the best care. There was no doubt he was part of their family though not law but through love.
I am not good at handling death. Therefore my task to go to a funeral home and express my sympathy to a foster family I had meet maybe once and a child I had never seen was not high on my list of things I wanted to do. (I am beginning to learn that I usually grow from the things I don’t want to do.) As I entered, my agency’s president saw me and said, the biological family is here as well. I admit it, I though bad thoughts about those people. They had reached the conclusion they could not raise a child with great medical needs and had been inactive in his life since that decision. The courts were in the process of terminating their parental rights. It had been a year since they had contact with him. Yet they show up for the funeral. The tension in the room was visible in the faces of the foster and biological family.
The foster mother was crying as she stood at the casket, her husband holding her and keeping a strong façade. The biological parents were sitting on the front pew crying unashamedly. After saying a few words to the foster family (which felt incredibly hollow) I blended into the background waiting to make a departure when the opportunity afforded itself.
Then I witnessed Amazing Grace. The foster mother walked over to the birth mother. The birth mother looked up at her with the emotions plain on her face. Guilt, regret, sorrow, shame. The foster mother leaned down and whispered something in her ear. The birth mother stood up and threw her arms around the foster mother and began to sob. The foster mother gently wrapped her arms around her and simply held her as she cried. As the birth mother cried and the foster mother held, the tension in the room slowly evaporated. Suddenly it was one group of people mourning the loss of one sweet child.
I leaned over to the agency president and said, “There is a picture of grace”. He agreed. The birth parents had not “deserved” to be at the funeral based on the way they had been able to parent Jimmy. Still the foster mother gave her unmerited favor. I just sat back, watched and was ministered to.
A few minutes later a new sound caught my attention. It was the birth father, he was now sobbing in the arms of foster mother. He had been the one who had made the decision that Jimmy was too much of a burden to raise. His body shook as he cried. The foster mother just kept holding him. Another picture of amazing grace.
I left soon after that with a few more token hollow words to the foster family. I called my wife to let her know I was headed home. She knew I had begrudged going to the funeral home. I told her the story and I wept. Imagine being ministered to though a death. Maybe that shouldn’t be too hard to be imagined. Amazing Grace.
Jimmy had died. It was a bit shock, he had been doing pretty good. Jimmy was classified as a medically fragile foster child. He had multiple problems that required constant care. The foster family had dedicated 2 years of their life into caring for this child who could give very little back. He had not communicated verbally since a seizure in the hospital the day the family met him. He could smile and coo but that was it. He required around the clock care. And this family had given him the best care. There was no doubt he was part of their family though not law but through love.
I am not good at handling death. Therefore my task to go to a funeral home and express my sympathy to a foster family I had meet maybe once and a child I had never seen was not high on my list of things I wanted to do. (I am beginning to learn that I usually grow from the things I don’t want to do.) As I entered, my agency’s president saw me and said, the biological family is here as well. I admit it, I though bad thoughts about those people. They had reached the conclusion they could not raise a child with great medical needs and had been inactive in his life since that decision. The courts were in the process of terminating their parental rights. It had been a year since they had contact with him. Yet they show up for the funeral. The tension in the room was visible in the faces of the foster and biological family.
The foster mother was crying as she stood at the casket, her husband holding her and keeping a strong façade. The biological parents were sitting on the front pew crying unashamedly. After saying a few words to the foster family (which felt incredibly hollow) I blended into the background waiting to make a departure when the opportunity afforded itself.
Then I witnessed Amazing Grace. The foster mother walked over to the birth mother. The birth mother looked up at her with the emotions plain on her face. Guilt, regret, sorrow, shame. The foster mother leaned down and whispered something in her ear. The birth mother stood up and threw her arms around the foster mother and began to sob. The foster mother gently wrapped her arms around her and simply held her as she cried. As the birth mother cried and the foster mother held, the tension in the room slowly evaporated. Suddenly it was one group of people mourning the loss of one sweet child.
I leaned over to the agency president and said, “There is a picture of grace”. He agreed. The birth parents had not “deserved” to be at the funeral based on the way they had been able to parent Jimmy. Still the foster mother gave her unmerited favor. I just sat back, watched and was ministered to.
A few minutes later a new sound caught my attention. It was the birth father, he was now sobbing in the arms of foster mother. He had been the one who had made the decision that Jimmy was too much of a burden to raise. His body shook as he cried. The foster mother just kept holding him. Another picture of amazing grace.
I left soon after that with a few more token hollow words to the foster family. I called my wife to let her know I was headed home. She knew I had begrudged going to the funeral home. I told her the story and I wept. Imagine being ministered to though a death. Maybe that shouldn’t be too hard to be imagined. Amazing Grace.
Oh, love me--and right now!--hold me tight! just the way you promised. Psa 119:76 (The Message)
posted by Steve Duer at 10:28 AM
2 Comments:
Steve,
Great story! I didn't know how to answer your question on your respone to my blog, so I decided to respond to yours and hopefully you will get this message. You have a "noreply-comment" for a return email address, also your profile does not have an email address.
I was a foster child and was/am an older child adoptee. I also worked for a large foster care agency for a short time as a Community Relations Coordinator and pre-service trainer.
I have several stories on my blog related to my early childhood. I am using the blog as a motivation to write, and someday put it all together for a book. Check out more of my blogs. I think you have to go directly to the blog to read them -- www.davidbarnett.blogspot.com
Your story is very touching. There are few things in life as complex as foster care. I spoke at a PALS graduation and both the foster parents and birth parents attended. Very interesting dynamics!
Keep up the blogging! Blessings!
Brother, that was a powerful scene of Grace you washed our feet with! Thank you is too hollow....but thanks for sharing with us!
In HIM,
DU
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