"Sometimes it’s hard to write about how good things are, especially when you’re a heart mom. Because it takes very little time, as the mother of a heart warrior, to know what it really means to hold that title. To connect with other moms who have worn similar paths around a hospital bed, or carried worry deep in their own hearts or fought from the trenches the trauma that comes to stay. To feel the loss of another mother’s child so deeply it can’t be put into words. But greater than fear and grief and even trauma, hope rises to the surface. It is an overwhelming presence in my tribe of heart moms. Of course, most of those heart moms are also adoptive moms, and we tend to be a scrappy hopeful bunch in the midst of some pretty challenging circumstances. And the battle cry that is always always always heard - even in the face of loss - is HOPE.
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Heart moms (see, also, adoptive moms) are bold, tenacious (see scrappy), and their own kind of brave. They know how to tap into God’s ability to move mountains. One of my favorite things is their acknowledgement that life - even for one day - is a gift that we’d better make the most of. Their gratitude. Their ability to be real and transparent. Their commitment to finding light in the darkness. Their willingness to jump into a brutal race and pick someone up and carry them for a while. And someone is always awake in the middle of the night when prayers are needed!! Amen?
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This wasn’t really the direction I intended to go when I sat down to write this, but it’s something I’ve needed to say because it’s been rough up in this village over these five years since I officially took up residence. Like, rough. And I’ll just be the one to say it’s hard to process being in the middle of your own hard when your tough days don’t even come close to someone else’s. Why are these stories of warriors and their families that battle alongside them written so very differently? Why do I get to wrap my arms around my girl at night, and others don’t? Ah. That’s where it circles back around to HOPE. Faithful trust in the One who writes the stories. Sometimes, excruciatingly painful trust. Trust in His answers we will one day receive. In the meantime, I don’t know one of us who would choose another path.
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The metaphorical connection between our physical hearts and our emotional “hearts” is certainly not lost on me. As much as I’ve learned about the physical brokenness of congenital heart disease, I’ve learned even more about the emotional brokenness that can accompany it. With so much more to learn. I think, though, that the most valuable lesson in all of it so far is that brokenness is not weakness; in fact, it is just the opposite. Brokenness leaves behind scars, some seen, some not. Some scars are just plain ugly, but every scar represents strength. And “at the end of the day, all you need is hope and strength. Hope that it will get better, and strength to hold on until it does.” [unknown]
- Cindy Martens
{Cindy has just opened a really great shop called Dandelion Design House
and she is selling her initial collection of designs to benefit orphan
care. $10 of every purchase will come right over to Open Hearts for
Orphans. Thank you for supporting her, and our organization.}
