September 30, 2012
My heart broke into a million pieces when I saw a neglected child on Breaking Bad tonight. The parents were both meth heads and the little boy was dirty and helpless. Vacant eyes and sorrowful soul.
All alone. No love. No care. No affection.
I have to do something.
This note was typed out on my phone last night amidst tears. I was completely broken up over a little boy’s character on the show Breaking Bad.
We started watching this show on Netflix last year but only made it about 3 episodes in because it’s really gritty. It follows the story of a high school Chemistry teacher who finds out he has lung cancer and begins “cooking” meth with a young guy he knows as a means to stockpile money for his family when he dies.
It has honestly turned out to be a riveting drama and although it’s very raw and kind of dark, it’s brilliantly executed which keeps me coming back for more. Plus, at this point I’m attached to the characters and have to find out what is going to happen.
But back to the little boy.
Ever since Grace was born, I have a HUGE sensitively to things related to babies and children.
Before her, when I heard about a tragedy involving children, I was all, “Aw. That’s so sad.”
Now I’m all, “Oh my gosh I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t think about it for another second lest I fall apart.”
It’s been a dramatic shift to say the least.
I just didn’t understand the love of a parent for their child until I had my own. I didn’t understand the beauty of their precious little souls until I knew my Grace Ellen intimately. I didn’t really get how vulnerable and delicate they are….depending on their parents for every earthly need to be met.
I just didn’t understand.
Now I do.
So when I hear about sad stories on the news, or tragedies of people I know, it’s almost too much to bear. I have several friends who have had heartbreaking losses involving their children and I’ve grieved for them and prayed for them in the deepest parts of my heart.
Children are precious blessings. They are tiny little lives being molded by everything that they experience.
So many children are not getting what they need. They are abused or abandoned and their fragile little souls are aching for the love and care that they were designed to receive.
Some of them are in orphanages, some of them are in drug houses, some of them live next door.
And my heart is breaking for all of them in ways it never has before.
I’m privileged to know several people who were adopted into their families. My former boss has three adopted children. A close friend of mine adopted a precious little girl last year and is about to travel across the world to bring home a sweet little sister. Another friend is in the waiting game right now to adopt a little boy.
It’s all around me and I’ve admired it, but I’ve never felt a pull.
Until last night.
You see, I started reading Choosing to See by Mary Beth Chapman. She’s the wife of Christian musician Steven Curtis Chapman and she’s the mother to six children. Three of them are adopted and one of them was killed in a tragic accident in 2008.
I’m about half way through the book (having started it yesterday evening…it’s SO good!) and so far it’s been the story of her life, her marriage, her motherhood and her tragedy. It has painted a picture of adoption that is so familiar to me from the stories of my friends, but so new at the same time.
While reading the book last night, I felt my heart being pried open. It (adoption) seems more realistic to me than it ever has. It makes me kind of nervous since I’ve never felt the tug before.
So I’m reading this book and God is opening my heart and mind to the idea of adoption and then I watch an episode of Breaking Bad and I see this poor, neglected little boy whose parents are meth addicts and I just break down.
Full on sobbing in my living room.
I could hardly catch my breath.
My heart was literally broken for this little boy who isn’t even real. Because his story IS real. He may have been a character on a television program, but his situation is not fiction.
There are small children living in heinous conditions, not being properly fed, clothed, bathed or cared for. Their parents are addicts or mentally ill or whatever.
These children are on their own day in and day out.
Even now, I get sick to my stomach thinking about it.
I want to wrap them all up and bring them home. I want to bathe them and feed them and just hold them telling them that they are precious and loved.
I feel so helpless.
I feel so out of touch.
In my cozy, clean home. With my full refrigerator. My loving family. My health. My lifestyle.
I feel ashamed that I live in this pretty little bubble while the world around me is full of these hurting children.
I don’t know what to do.
So I’m praying. A lot.
I’m asking God to show me what I should do. How I can help.
Pure, unstained religion, according to God our Father, is to take care of orphans and widows when they suffer and to remain uncorrupted by this world. James 1:27