Grace for the in between spaces

Yesterday morning started off with one of my favorite things to get to do In court, which was to watch two precious little ones get adopted into their forever families. One precious little one who came to us because of drug abuse by his parents and one because of sexual abuse by the person who was supposed to keep her safe. 

These adoptions were able to happen because, within the past few months, I went to court and terminated their parents’ rights. 

There are many things that I like about my job. I love the people that I work with. I am grateful for the opportunity to feel like I am able to make a positive difference in people’s lives. I thrive on being in the courtroom. I am blessed to get to love on babies visiting in my office. I enjoy all the people at the courthouse. 

But I hate terminating people parental rights. I hate it. 

I don’t hate it because it’s the wrong thing because sometimes it is absolutely the right thing and the only choice. 

I hate it because it’s incredibly sad, even heartbreaking. 

I hate it because it requires me to be mean to people on the witness stand. It causes me to tear people down when every pastoral instinct within me sees the brokenness inside them and wants to build them up. 

I hate it because at the end of the day, I have been instrumental in causing the end of a family. And while I’m not the reason that these people are in the situation they are in, I still feel the weight of what I do. 

While the end result may mean a safe new family for a precious child, that new life doesn’t come without a lost past. And although that’s the right thing, it’s a sad thing. 

I spent all day yesterday, all day one day last week, and part of a day the week before, in termination trials. Trials that came about because of issues with substance abuse, mental illness, or family histories of incarceration, and substance abuse that have caused parents to be unable to provide safe and stable homes for their children. 

I have had to be firm, even mean at times, in the process of proving their patterns of poor judgment and disfunction which leave them unable to appropriately parent their children. 

It’s something I’m good at. But although I’m good at it, it’s not one of the talents I most admire about myself. 

And the more I follow this ministry call, the more I recognize the dichotomy between where I have been and where I am going. 

It is a fascinating thing to watch the new person I am becoming, as I transition into who God had called me to be. 

But it is not without growing pains. 

And a sense of sadness at watching the person I’ve known for so many years began to fade away as the new me begins to take her place. 

And gratitude at the grace for the in-between spaces.