“Ministry is others being blessed by the oil that came from what crushed you.”
When I heard this statement, it took my breath away. It’s true! And not just in my life, but throughout the Redemptive Story we see in Scripture.
We see it in the life of Joseph, who was able to say to his brothers who’d sold him into slavery, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Gen. 50:20).
We see it in the story of Naomi, the female Job, widowed and barren in a patriarchal culture, whose daughter in law, Ruth, fiercely chose a path of self-sacrificial love and devotion to Naomi, leading to a redemptive story that birthed the great King David, and ultimately our Savior into the world.
And our Jesus, crushed and bruised, bloodied and broken, poured out so that we might have life. This is the Gospel. This is the way of Jesus. And we, his followers, are invited to walk in it.
“I could NEVER love a child and give her back.” This is a phrase every foster parent has heard. And yet, that is the goal of foster care – the restoration of families. As foster parents, we have the incredible privilege of co-redeeming with God as He weaves families back together.
And it’s brutal and beautiful. Brutiful.
Bringing home a baby from the hospital is pure joy. But in the case of foster care, bringing home a baby is mingled with pure grief, as a birth mama is left behind. “This is not the way it’s supposed to be” – a phrase I feel myself thinking over and over again along this journey. Nevertheless, when my family brought home a precious baby boy earlier in our fostering journey, the joy of new life overwhelmed our family. We knew he wasn’t “ours.” No baby really is, but you think differently when they come out of your body.
When I found out he was going to be reunified with his family, I began to grieve losing him in ours. I also decided to keep loving him with my whole heart. He deserved that, so I held nothing back. I relished all the little moments, tiny hands grabbing my bottom lip as he nursed his bottle. The smell of his head, the sounds he made as he began to discover his own voice, the way he felt, heavy with sleep in my arms; the tenderness of my husband and the joy of my other children engaging with him, playfully, lovingly. The look in his eyes at the first morning in our home, bright and shiny and ready to receive love and life. His smile. His wiggly yearning to go, go, go.
And then, it was time.
I wailed when he left.
Empty swing.
Empty bed.
Empty drawers.
Empty hall.
Empty arms.
Empty heart.
I tried to hold it together when the social worker came to get him. I tried really hard. But there is some pain that can’t be held in. It just comes pouring out. I explained this and that about all the things I had packed up…his whole life, really. That’s when it erupted from somewhere deep within, right out my eyes, the windows to my soul, all hot and wet. I tried to be strong. “Here are some extra diapers and formula. These are the jammies he likes…” said through tears with a mind of their own.
Brutal.
And. But. Yet…
Yet, he was going home, to forever be with his family. What broke something in me healed something in him. In his family.
Beautiful.
It is such a confusing journey, being a foster mama. I knew when I entered into it that I would have to let him go. And truly he is where he needs to be, with an adoring family who are devoted to him and love him wholeheartedly. For this I am deeply grateful. He doesn’t need me anymore. And so we continue to walk this brutiful journey.
This is the ministry of foster care: others being blessed by the oil that comes from what crushes you. The oil of love, the oil of healing, the oil of hope, the oil of redemption. This is the oil of our worship…offering all that we are as a living sacrifice (Rom. 12:1) for the sake of love.
As a follower of Jesus, the Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on you, and he has anointed you to proclaim good news to the poor, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives, and release from darkness for the prisoners…to comfort all who mourn…to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of the spirit of despair. (from Isaiah 61:1-3, italics mine)
Throughout Scripture, oil is used to anoint people for the ministry that the Holy Spirit has set them apart to accomplish. The oil that gushes from the most painfully crushing places of your story can also be the places the Holy Spirit flows through most powerfully, as we surrender it all to Him.
Being a part of the redemptive stories that God is writing among the greatest privileges we have as followers of The Way of Jesus. And, in my experience, the oil flows not just to others but will cover you with more than all you could ask or imagine…because that is just how good our God is!
