Remembering Rosie

I had a WIC appointment yesterday.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with WIC, like my wealthy neighbor who gave me a ride to the appointment (LOL!  Funny story....for another day),  it's an acronym for Women, Infant, and Children, a government program for underprivileged women and children.  I have to go to WIC every month to receive checks for Charley's formula, since he's a ward of the state.  Every time I walk into the office, the sheer desperate state of our city slaps me in the face.  There are children and babies everywhere, with parents in all different stages of consciousness.  Yes, I'm serious.  There are responsible, working parents who are there because they just can't cover the expenses of feeding their children, to mothers who are coming off a serious "high" from the night before. 

On this particular visit, I had signed in and just sat down to wait for them to call my name, when I saw her.  Not Rosie, not Rosie's mother, but a woman that I knew.  It was obvious that this woman was struggling to stay awake and not tear the skin from her body at the same time.  She was either high or coming down from a high.  I scoured my brain trying to remember where I had met her, but couldn't come up with it.   Since I started doing foster care, God has gently torn down the walls of my little world that I had created.  My eyes have been opened so many times to homelessness, drug abuse, and child neglect happening right outside my door. 

As I sat there watching her, a heavy sadness came over me.  I felt like my heart would explode.  I just wanted to wrap my arms around this woman and cry for her, pray with her, and tell her there's hope.  But, I didn't...I couldn't. Right?  We were in the WIC waiting room!  If I could have a "do over", that's exactly what I would do.  But, instead, I started praying for her as I waited for my checks, and continued to do so the whole day.  Funny how Jesus doesn't let us forget what's important to Him...like this woman...like Rosie.

Rosie was our "first born".  Well, not really.  She was our first foster child, and since we don't have children of our own, that's how we think of her.  Rosie came to live with us as a 2 month old, drug-exposed baby constantly struggling to tolerate her environment.  She literally stole my heart as soon as our eyes met.  And, I do remember that very moment.  Rosie was with us for 8 months, before she went back to live with her mother.  There's not a day that goes by that I don't at least, silently say a short prayer for her. 

I believed that Rosie was not going back to a safe environment, but the courts did not agree with me.  I had seen her mother coming off of a high, much like this woman, on more than one occasion.  It ripped my heart out to think that Rosie would be left alone with her, and it made me hate, yes hate, her mother.  MAN, did God work on my heart after that!  He pretty much threw me into the woes of what these women go through and showed me that he loves them JUST AS MUCH as he loves me.  So many times, I found myself on the floor sobbing before the Lord.  Humbled to the core. 

So, to this woman...may you find Jesus in the midst of your heartache and if I ever see you again, I WILL wrap my arms around you and show you the love that Jesus intends for YOU.  And to Rosie, my sweet, sweet child.... may God put his hedge of protection around you every day and may He bless your life more abundantly than you ever dreamed.  I will see you again some day.

And to you, the reader, may Jesus break your heart for what breaks His.

Love to ya,
Shell