Maundy Thursday, 4pm
“Angel, give me a call ASAP. We need to talk.”
Not a text you want to receive from your DCS case worker.
We called immediately.
“We’ve decided to move Lilly to a home closer to her half-sister.”
We hadn’t been notified that was even a possibility.
“Can we pick her up tonight?”
We talked the case worker out of that idea and into waiting until Monday.
We hung up the phone and sat in silence, shocked.
Jesus took the unleavened bread that Passover night and he gave it to his disciples, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.”[i]
Our bond with Lilly had come so naturally. She had only been with us three and a half months, but we were a mutual admiration society. After a couple of weeks of trauma-induced non-responsive behavior, she opened up. It wasn’t long before her squeals and belly laughs filled our home. We kissed her, squeezed her, and sung and prayed over her.
We dreamed of the possibility of adopting Lilly. We didn’t know if that would be possible, but we knew that the case would be a long one. We would get to enjoy her for at least another year.