Being a foster parent is the hardest thing I have ever done. I’ve always had the belief that I could do anything short term.
I slept on a hard floor in India for a whole summer when the temperatures were well over 110 F during the day. I once was lost in a village in Africa with no technology to help me find my way and I chose to live with someone I loved while they were dying. Holding on to the belief I could do anything short term got me through some of the hardest experiences of my life. The thing about foster care is, when you choose to foster, there is no short term.
That mind set fails me in this current life. There is no short term. Sure there are short term placements, but anytime a child enters your home they leave an imprint on your heart. Our shortest placement was a little boy for just short of two months. We still reference that child and laugh at the funny memories. He impacted us and is in our hearts. So, while he was not here long-term, his life was not short term for us.
Fostering is a life that is unpredictable. It can be hard. Isolating. Anxiety producing. Heartbreaking. Joy giving. Exasperating. Painful. Beautiful. I can remember specific memories about all of those words. I would never want to experience some of the hard stuff again, I am thankful that we had to walk through the fire. I am thankful because it has made the joy so much sweeter. Walking through those times has really defined the difference between being happy and having joy. I think that discovery has been pivotal in my faith. Life is hard, but God is good.
We have again come to the point in our journey where we are on the brink of a storm. I feel it. Ryan feels it. I’m sure the people we surround ourselves with can sense something may be stirring. It’s hard because we don’t know how bad the storm will be. It may just rain a little bit or it may cause lots of destruction. It’s a really emotionally hard place to be in. We have to make a strong effort to pray and ask God to prepare us and hold us in this space. Maybe the storm won’t come at all.
Pup is 10 months old. We took him home from the hospital at 5 days. He had a difficult start to life. He had some gastrointestinal issues that caused him some discomfort. He was usually calmed by laying on my chest. His happy place was cuddled in a blanket sleeping on me. I remember looking into his little eyes that stared back at me and falling in love. He was so tiny. Now, when I look at him I see a little boy with bright blue eyes and puffy blonde hair that has a smile as big as Texas. His laugh is contagious. Tripp and Pup are the best of friends. They don’t know they aren’t brothers. Pup doesn’t know that he is in our family, but he doesn’t belong to us. He doesn’t know that I’m not his mom and Ryan isn’t his dad. He does know that we are crazy about him. He does know that his big fo-bro loves him.
I pray for this next season in life. I pray that whatever happens, I can find peace. I pray that whatever is best for pup (not the Murphy family) happens. I hope that if there is ever a day that Pup is not here that he leaves knowing he was loved. I find hope that pup will always be protected and loved by his heavenly father.
Foster care is knowing kids could leave at any minute, but loving them as if they will stay forever. We put our hearts on a platter to be devastated because there are kids that need someone to stand in the gap. They need someone to love them even if just for a season.
Koko
