Wrestling with selfish love
Baby D is two months old. I know his snuggles and sounds, his sleeping and eating patterns. I dearly love this little guy like he is my own. Every week I get him ready for his visit with his biological parents. Every single week I choose to believe that he is safer in the arms of his heavenly Father than he is in my own. I bathe him and get him dressed and kiss his little cheeks and pray over him and hand him over to the social worker. This journey is so wonderful and so hard. The thought tugs at my mind every day – what if we have to give him back? And the thought that I hate and constantly have to battle with truth whispers in the dark – if he goes back to his family, was this all worth it? “If he goes back to his family, was this all worth it?” On selfish love and #fostercare. CLICK TO TWEET Last night I sat and talked with a sister in Christ and fellow foster parent. I snuggled little D’s downy head in the sling on my chest as she ch...