After entering the courtroom, I stalled as long as I could while I savored those last moments with Marita. With the paperwork completed, the judge said the time had come for me to give her to her Great-Aunt Nora.* I hugged Marita close and planted a kiss on her cheek, then quickly held her toward Nora. With her arms around Marita, Nora turned away from me while I made my escape. Marita started screaming before I got to the door, and in the reflection of the window, I could see her little arms reaching out to me. Oh, this hurts. Keep me from going back to her. Lord, I can only do this with you. Practically running, I descended two floors of the building before I stopped hearing the screams of that dear baby girl.

I came face-to-face with something that I had pushed aside, up until now. I needed to resolve the fact that many of the children who came into Shadow of His Wings Orphanage would someday return to a family member or friend. The courts looked at us as a foster-care facility rather than a permanent Home. I mentally reviewed the purpose for founding the orphanage. We established it as a place of refuge; a home to provide healing, hope, and love for hurting and needy children. I didn’t know how many times I would be saying goodbye to children who had a piece of my heart, but I could trust the Lord to help me let them go when the time came. I trusted Him to keep them in His care as a Father of the fatherless (Psalm 68:5). God desired all of us at Shadow to invest love and hope into these little lives, even if their stay with us happened to be for a short time. That valuable input made a positive difference in each child. They came in thinking they were garbage, but when they left, they knew they were special in our eyes and the heart of the Lord.

Later, I saw something from a different perspective. As I thought about when Marita cried as I departed, I saw it from her point of view. Children come to us, become part of a family, and then have to leave in uncertainty, their lives changing again. They would be filled with the same fear I saw in Marita. As for myself, I realized that I didn’t have to leave; I just had to let go. They had to leave and let go, giving up all the familiarity around them. I had confidence that the Lord would help everyone during this difficult time, but Shadow needed to help these children accept the unpredictable future by learning to trust and love the Lord. How ironic that when each child enters this refuge, they need to prepare to leave. This preparation needed to be a goal for all staff and workers at Shadow of His Wings Orphanage, and I saw how that could be accomplished.