Foster care has given me anxiety lately. I know that sounds really stupid and incredibly selfish. We just won a huge battle and adopted our son…shouldn’t that be enough? Yes, absolutely. I still catch myself being amazed that he really is our son. He is mine. No one can take him from me. He isn’t leaving.
Yet, just as one battle is won another one is still looming. There are still children in the world, in our city, that need a safe home for however long. We still have a little boy in our home that needs me to advocate for him and love him for everyday he is ours. We brought that little one home from the hospital at 5 days old. For 298 days, I’ve held that little one close to me. I woke up with him 4-5 times a night at first and rocked him back to sleep. We have seen every single one of his milestones. I know what his different cries mean. I can tell you where his freckles are. Ryan can make him smile and laugh instantly. We know how to comfort him. Yet, he isn’t ours. He isn’t any more ours today than the day we brought him home. We support his case goal. It is no secret that we love this little boy. It is no secret that we are attached to him and he to us. Tripp and pup are best friends. They are usually side by side and just love each other. They don’t know that they aren’t brothers.
The reality is, he isn’t ours. He belongs to others and that is how it should be. We have to keep perspective. We have to choose, sometimes daily, to love him as if he were to stay forever but know that he may leave tomorrow. That is hard. Just thinking of the day I may have to say goodbye to him is absolutely heartbreaking. Thinking about that day that might come is excruciating, but it is still reality.
So, why do I foster? Why do I take child after child into my family, only to have my heart break time and time again when the child leaves my home to another? Why do I run myself to the point of exhaustion, looking after a other peoples children on lack of sleep and energy? Quite simply; because there is a child out there, right now, that needs a home. There is a child out there, today, who needs a family, and who needs to be loved. I have been richly blessed with so much, I feel called to share those blessings with those in need.
I am often asked how I do it. How am I able to care for so many children in my home, and how do I continue to have my heart broken repeatedly? Well, the answer is really not that difficult of one. We love because we were loved first. God knows about all the horrible bad things I’ve done. He knows all about the things I don’t talk about. Yet, he chooses me. He chose me. He loves me. So, when we think of it in that context…it’s not a hard decision at all. Some are called to live on mission as pastors or missionaries. Some as teachers or bankers. We were put in this place in this moment to live on mission loving kids from hard places. It is a hard and messy life. But, it is also beautiful. It is a beautiful struggle. We were called to do much more than to just let life last. We were called to make life count.
We have a mandate to love the least of these. That looks different for different people. For us, that means choosing to have your heart broken for the sake of a child’s future. That doesn’t make us good people…it just means we said yes.
We love both of our boys so much. So, we buckle in and continue. Continue to love. Continue to advocate. Continue to fight for them. This is the greatest call on our lives.
Koko
