Heart breaking....yes

Today I was in the building at DSS where visitations take place with families of foster children.

I was with a friend seeking help from another department in the building.

Some reason (GOD) we were placed in the waiting room area that is attached to the child/parent visitation play center at DSS (I am assuming).  We sat there a few minutes and a lady who was in the play room with a child, just gets up and walks out....with a blonde headed little girl just sitting there.

Well, my friend is filling out paperwork and this little precious girl comes walking up to me with a book....
so I lean over and open the book and start reading to her.  Each time I pause at the end of a page, she turns the page for me to go on.  The book "Five little monkey's jumping on the bed". 

The mom.  No where in sight.

I read the book two times and in the middle of the 4th time the mom came back in and kind of called down her child for bothering me, and I said no I enjoyed it. 

The little girl walked over to her mom and raised up the book and the mom got another call and walked back out the door.  The little one came back to me and I began to read it to her again, this time fighting back tears.

When the mom came back in I asked her how old she was and she said 3, but she had a 15 month old at home to which she proudly displayed a pic on her phone to me, the little girl saw it and seemed to get a little upset and was saying something I couldn't understand, she barely talked and what she did was almost impossible to decipher.

As her mom held up the phone talking of her baby brother, the little blonde girl grabbed the phone from her mom and brought it to me trying to tell me something about her brother and she seemed sad. Her mom was gushing on and on about him.  What if she was trying to tell me she misses him?

I broke.
Inside of my heart literally broke and I think God gave me just another tiny little glimpse today of what we are walking into.

The mom stood by the door the rest of the time like she was waiting on the social worker to come back so she could leave. While I read the book one last time before we were called back.

And here I sit picturing those blonde curls, blue eyes, grunting mumbling speech and a longing for someone to read to her.

Broken.
Saddened
Disbelief
and wanting to take that child home with me forever.

Just opening my eyes once again to how much God is doing this, not me and in order for me to continue...
I am going to need Him every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of the year for how ever many years we foster.

It is not me, it is all Him and it is going to have to be Him to get me through this.
Break my heart for what breaks Yours,