To Love Is To Be Vulnerable

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

Do you guys know what you are getting yourselves into?” The question comes in various forms from a variety of concerned friends and family members.

We don’t. But we’re doing our best to find out.

I like lists. Pros and Cons. Cut and Dried. I begin making one in my head.

What’s the worst thing that could happen by bringing a couple of orphaned Eastern European teenagers into our family?” Honey and I hold the conversation while holding hands in the car on the way to our favorite Thai restaurant for date night.

I don’t know. They could axe murder us in the night?” he ventures, half laughing.

Seriously. We know them. That’s not their character.”

Well, maybe they don’t love us as much as we love them. Maybe we are just a free ticket to America and once they are here, they’ll rebel and leave as soon as they can.”

Maybe. That’s certainly their right when they turn eighteen,” I reply. “Do you really believe that?”

I don’t know. I’m just trying to think of the worst thing that could happen,” Honey replies as he pulls into the empty parking lot that houses the darkened Thai dive that has the best green curry in the county.

Well, I think the worst thing that could happen would be that they get hooked on drugs or alcohol or something like that and I’d get to relive the nightmare I’ve already lived with a substance abuser in the family,” I venture.

Or maybe that they cause problems between us and divide and conquer us, and our marriage goes down the tubes,” Honey says as we slide into our usual booth and wave to the waitress who has memorized our order down to the extra rice for Honey and the extra spice for me.

Maybe. But we’re too smart to let that happen, right? I prayed too hard to find you in this world. I’m not about to let anything mess with us.”

Honey smiles and takes my hand to pray over our meal.

You’re happy when the boys are here,” he says. It’s the kind of happy you get when we visit your sister’s kids. It’s a different kind of happy than when it’s just you and me. I’m not jealous. I can just see that there is something missing from our lives. Something that makes my wife’s eyes light up.”

I miss them,” I reply. “I really miss them.”

“Yeah. They bring a lot of energy into our home. They get us off of our little workaholic treadmills and force us to have fun. I miss them, too.”IMG_3796

I’m thrilled they expressed that they want to be adopted by us. I was afraid of what they would say in their exit interviews,” I confess as our green curry arrives. “I’ve been holding my breath ever since they left. Waiting to know if they really want to come back and be part of our family.”

We just have to trust that God is leading, and go through the doors He opens,” Honey says. We love them. They love us. God placed the four of us together for a reason. We can’t know everything. We won’t know everything. We just have to trust Him. We will do everything we can do to bring the boys home. If it works out, it works out. If it doesn’t, we still have to trust Him.”

We don’t discuss it anymore. But I can’t stop thinking about it. I try not to let fear have a foothold in the days that follow as various people express their doubts and questions and scary “what-ifs.”

God, I know we can’t control people. No one knows how a story will end. Nobody can guarantee that babies won’t be born with defects, that toddlers won’t drown, that teenagers won’t drive drunk and ruin somebody’s forever. We don’t know whether our daughters will become victims or our sons, felons. We all want to live in this safe, tidy, neat little world where our kids turn our great and our spouses love us til death do us part. But You and I both know that it doesn’t work that way.

We love. And love is messy. Love hurts. Love sometimes leaves us bleeding on the sidelines after we get kicked in the proverbial teeth by somebody who is supposed to be on our team. Does that mean we never sign up for the league? Does it mean we sit on the bleachers while everybody else plays the game of life? Does it mean we simply coach and counsel and cheer the rest of the world on, but never take the risk of suiting up and entering the arena ourselves?

To love is to be vulnerableWhat should we do, God? Should we sit this one out or dance?

Two days later, I check my messages on VK (Ukraine’s version of Facebook), hoping for a response to the words we texted the boys after learning what they said to the social worker: “When we said we loved you, we meant it. We just received the results of your exit interview and are so excited to learn that you want to be adopted into our family! We are thrilled to know that you have also chosen us. Thank you for giving us a chance to be your family. We thank God for you.”

In my inbox, I see a reply from the Boy who doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. His words are few, but they are enough. Дякою вам.Я вас дуже дуже Люблю.” (Thank you. I love you very, very much.)

In that moment, I hear God’s whispered response to my earlier question, “Should we sit it out or dance?”

“I hope you dance.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance.

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“I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin’ might mean takin’ chances but they’re worth takin’,
Lovin’ might be a mistake but it’s worth makin’,
Don’t let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone.)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

Dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance..
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along
Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone)”

(Thanks to Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers for writing the lyrics to “I Hope You Dance,” made popular in 2000 by Leann Womack and Sons of the Desert.)

Catch Ronan Keating’s Version on You Tube, Right Here.