To Grieve a Little

I've heard it twice now. But it was the second time that got me. Something along the lines of,

"You knew what you were signing up for" after I disclosed the fear and pain of potentially seeing this little one leave. 

Why, yes. Yes I did. 

We walked into this with eyes wide open. We accepted the likelihood of sending children back after loving them. We knew the danger for heartache and pain. We considered the negatives. We weighed all the risks. 

But in the end, we found them worth it. This sweet baby who's tethered to my heart, he's worth loving. 

And he's worth grieving. 

I don't feel one ounce of hesitation about weeping over him. Being informed of the facts beforehand won't keep me from missing him when he's gone. Or loving him till the day I die. 

My grief means I've loved deep. And I think Jesus is okay with that. 

He loved deep too. 

In fact, He had his own bout with grief. He grieved even though he knew He had signed up for it upon entering planet earth. 

Because part of living in this feeble skin is loving and losing. 

And knowing pain is coming doesn't make it's punch hurt any less.

He suffered loss. It cut deep. 

And He wept.

He wept even though He knew He was going to set it all right. 

I weep even though I believe that, too. 

If you're in a season of grief, keep this in mind: grieving deeply is not a sign of a weak faith. It's the evidence of a strong love. 

And the loss of a beloved is always worth grieving.