The Weary World Rejoices

"A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new glorious morn." 

It's tempting to write off Christmas when you're grieving. It seems to be a time for holiday cheer, not for grief, and yet, this time of year often serves to magnify our grief and make us even wearier than we may already be. We feel like we don't fit into the Christmas season. 

Advent is a season of waiting, though and before the celebration of Christ's birth, there was a weary world. It had gone 400 years without a word from God. It was groaning and yearning for God to act, to fill in the missing component. The world was waiting for Jesus, whether they knew it or not, and they could feel that emptiness and incompleteness that only he could change. I can relate with that right now a lot quicker than I do to the more positive feelings that surround our idea of Christmas. Maybe it's not so incorrect of us to mourn more deeply this time of year after-all, in fact, maybe it's just as in-line with this advent season as any other emotion. Advent is a season of waiting, and whatever it is in our lives that we may be waiting on, the truth is that we are waiting on the Lord to act; to intervene, to save us from our despair and hopelessness.

More than 2000 years after the birth of Jesus, we approach advent with an utter certainty that soon, Christmas will come. Soon, we will be celebrating the coming of the Lord in the same way that the angels, shepherds, wise-men, and those who recognized the arrival of the messiah did all those years ago. Soon, the weary world will rejoice. This is such a wonderful reminder that as we feel more keenly the brokenness of our lives this time of year, that we can wait with confidence and anticipation of God's action and deliverance in our own lives also. We do not know how long it will last, but we know that the Lord will deliver us from this too because we know that he has already delivered us from much more; we know with that same utter certainty that we can put our hope in him as we wait. We celebrate this child in the manger, because without him, we would have no hope as we face these weary seasons of our lives. We celebrate that in the scope of eternity, our weary souls will soon rejoice as well. As we have a full understanding of what it is to be weary and waiting upon the Lord, we can celebrate  the coming of the Jesus with an even deeper joy as we eagerly anticipate his work in our lives and his second coming when he will fully and finally fill our weary world and weary souls with the completeness that comes only from him. He is the thrill of hope in our weary lives. He brings the new and glorious morn. He brings joy to our suffering and thankfulness to our discontent hearts. He brings salvation, hope, and joy to the world. 

Three Years a Mom

My precious Brighton. My eldest child. The one who made me a momma. The one over whom I've shed the most tears and spent the most days missing. Three years ago, we found out God had placed this little soul into our lives, and left them completely changed. Every day since then has been directly and deeply impacted by the knowledge that this child exists and the love we have for this child that has no place to go. There's a beauty that I can't help but recognize in realizing that this never-ending grief and disappointment, the tears that flow steadily even three years later, all stem from a love that is natural and pure and deep; a mother's love for her child. I have loved this child fiercely, and have defended his or her life and worth time and time again to myself and others in my words and my actions. I am grateful and unashamed to call myself a mom because of this child.

God has made me who I am through Brighton. This child caused me to lose all my confidence and then find it back again in a more loving, compassionate, Christ-centered, focused,  and determined way than ever before. This child is the reason that I am passionate about every child being loved every day, and why we have had the joy of being foster parents. This child is why I started writing, because I felt like this life needed to be known and recognized and I couldn't stand the thought of my beloved child being forgotten and not missed, and I wanted other mommas to know that their children and their motherhood are not forgotten in the absence of their child either; the Lord sees, and so do I.  The knowledge that this child is with Jesus keeps me looking heavenward and gives me a tangible reminder of the marvelous grace of our loving lord who keeps those whom he has called to himself safe and secure in him through all the days of their lives, be they 90 years or 1 month.

The past 3 years have been amazingly hard; God has done amazing things through deep joy and unimaginable grief. God has done incredible good through our love for this little soul. I am grateful to have been granted the heart of a momma that rests in Jesus Christ as her children come and go from this life and this home; gone but never forgotten, never not missed, and never not loved from now until eternity when we meet in the presence of Jesus Christ; our savior, our hope, our comfort and joy, our greatest love, the one who glorifies himself in even the darkest of days and gives purpose to our sorrows. To know that he has been glorified through the life of my beloved Brighton, and loves this child for all eternity is the fulfillment of the most aching prayer of a christian parent for her child. I am deeply grateful in the midst of deep grief for this mercy from the Lord, and I am grateful for Brighton, the little soul that has forever changed our lives for the better.

Diagnosis

I lost Brighton one day after seeing a healthy heartbeat on an ultrasound. I remember sobbing in the shower with the distinct impression that my body was killing my perfectly healthy baby. They tell you that's not the case. They tell it's "chromosomal". They tell you there's nothing you could do. It turns out I was probably right though. My own broken body, my own blood, is what's been killing our babies. In all likelihood, they could have been perfectly healthy, happy babies, had it not been for this thing called "antiphospholipid syndrome." And it turns out, it could have killed me too.

Doctors call it "sticky blood". In short, it means my blood clots very easily; too easily in some cases. And if it's not treated during pregnancy, they believe that tiny blood clots cut off blood flow to the baby causing miscarriage. If this doesn't happen, then, as pregnancy progresses, it increases the risk of blood clots forming in arteries and risks stroke and pre-eclampsia, and pre-mature birth.

It's scary, and it's sad, and it's comforting to find this out. We always look for reason in our suffering. We want to know why God has allowed things to happen in the ways that he has. To be able to see that he was protecting me from great harm gives some meaning to the tragedy of it all, though I would of course have risked my life for any of my 3 kids in a heartbeat. But that wasn't his plan. Now we know though. We can take precautions, we can treat it, we can take away most of the danger for me and our future babies, but it won't be easy. Every time that we want to get pregnant from now on will have to be well planned and well prepared for. It will involve 3 different doctors, and 5 medications administered 3 different ways, two of which are contraindicated, and one of which is a daily injection for the entire pregnancy, and a 6th medication if I'm as sick the next time as I was with Keelan. As much as I desperately long to be pregnant again, I'm also dreading it. The joy and excitement will be there, I know they will, but my first reaction will have to be to take a deep breath, thank God for the next precious life, and pray for the strength to face my fears. On top of concern for my next baby's well-being, it feels like it's all riding on these treatments, because it's everything we know to do, and if it doesn't work, I'm afraid nothing ever will, and not only will we not have that baby, we may never have a biological child at all until we meet our children at the throne of Jesus Christ.

But that's exactly where I find my peace in all of the medical jargon, and odds and percentages, and the depths of googling: the throne of Christ. Brighton and Keelan and Addison remind me to keep my mind turned heavenward, towards my true hope for them and for me and for all our future children.Though I am extremely grateful for them, my hope is not ultimately in medical treatments but in the unfailing savior, Jesus Christ. This truth is the difference between crippling anxiety and unnatural peace. No matter what happens, I will have joy and peace in both the happiest and most desperately trying of times, because, as always, everything is in the hands of our God who reigns sovereign over all of his creation; over my life, over their lives, over bodies and blood clots, over placentas and hormone levels, over thyroids and umbilical cords, and every cell in our bodies, and even over death itself.  We are thankful to him for this diagnosis, the treatments that are available for it, and the ability to move forward with genuine hope, regardless of the outcome. To him be the glory, great things he has done, and great things he will continue to do. Amen.

A Prayer for the "Goodbye Parents"

I've seen posts from a number of foster parents in the last week who have had to say their goodbyes to their foster-loves. This is my prayer for these "goodbye parents":

First, I pray for your kids. They may not be in your home, but they will always be in your heart, and you will always consider them "your kids" in a way.

I pray that they are safe and loved, because you signed up for this heartbreak so that they could know those things.

I pray that even if they were too little to remember, that the love you gave them will never leave them and will make a difference for the rest of their lives.

I pray for their salvation; that even if you never see them again in this life, that you'll see them again in the next.

I pray that wherever they may be, God will also place someone who will teach them about Jesus' saving love for them.

Second, I pray for this child's family, because loving our fosters means loving the people who they love and who love them.

I pray thanks to God for restoring their broken family to each other.

I pray God will rescue them from their sin and the situations that led their kids into foster-care, that they may never have to be apart again.

I pray they will be wise, loving, and godly parents.

Third, I pray for you, foster mom or foster dad.

I pray that you would be able to feel confident that this child is loved and safe, wherever they are.

I pray you would have true, deep joy in the restoration of this family, even as you mourn the loss of this child as part of yours.

I pray that when you find that long lost sock in the laundry, or the pacifier under the bed, or when you hear their favorite song, see their favorite toy, or see a child who is their age or who looks like them, that you would have peace and be able to remember your time together with joy.

I pray that when the tears do come, that you will embrace the love that you have for this child.

I pray that you would grieve well.

I pray against bitterness towards the system, the family, and God.

I pray that God will draw you near to him as you walk through each day.

I pray that if you don't have other children in your home, that you would adjust back to this childless stage of life well.

I pray that if you have mixed emotions about this child leaving your home, that you would not feel undue guilt in that.

I pray for your marriage, that you would be able to comfort and encourage each other and talk with each other and point each other towards Christ, that you may be each other's greatest earthly comfort.

I give thanks to God that he has allowed you to live out this calling to love your neighbor as yourself, and pray that he will continue to confirm this calling if it is his will for you to continue fostering.

I pray that if you need a break, that you would have one and take the time that you need without guilt.

I pray for wisdom in your words and actions as you process this grief; that you would not speak or act rashly and in ways you will regret.

Fourth, I pray for your other children.

I pray that they would understand why their foster-sibling is gone.

I pray they would know how to express the feelings they have in healthy ways.

I pray that they would adjust back to life without them well, but that they can remember and continue to love them even in their absence.

Fifth, I pray for your friends, family, and church family.

I pray God places people around you who understand, or, who are willing to listen and learn if they don't.

I pray that when they don't know what to say, that God would give them wisdom so that they would say and do helpful things.

I pray that you would hear even the unhelpful things with an attitude of patience, grace and appreciation, giving them the benefit of the doubt.

Lastly, I pray for the things that I don't know are hard for you today. With my limited experience, I can't even begin to understand how different foster-care situations affect different people, and how your situation is affecting you.

I pray that you would grow in grace, in comfort, in peace, and in love for God and neighbor each day.

Amen.


If you are a foster parent who has said goodbye to a foster-love or who is going to soon, I would love to know more ways that I can pray for you and support you in this goodbye. Obviously this prayer is based on my own experiences, so please, share with me and help me learn how to help you and my other fellow foster-parents better! Thank you for being willing to take on this heartbreak to give these little souls a safe and loving home for whatever time they needed it.

Having Hope

"I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love, because you have seen my affliction; you have known the distress of my soul and you have not delivered me into the hand of the enemy; you have set my feet in a broad place. Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eye is wasted from grief; my soul and my body also. For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my iniquity and my bones waste away [...]. But I trust in you, O Lord; I say "You are my God." My times are in your hand." -Psalm 31:7-10, 14-16a

Every once in a while someone will say something to me in this season of life that I know I'll never forget. Often it is something that stings, but occasionally it's something profoundly helpful, and, often, profoundly simple. I went to an endocrinologist last week to sort out my malfunctioning thyroid and as she looked through my records, she spoke with genuine compassion when she said "3 pregnancies and 3 miscarriages, that takes my breath away. I'm so sorry."

Sometimes I underestimate the toll that saying goodbye to 4 beloved children (including foster love) has taken, and continues to take, especially when 3 of them were in as many months. This grief is a long, slow burn. The longing to fill our home with family is physical; I can feel it in my chest. The brokenness of death and of foster care still captures my thoughts, I still cry, I still lay in bed instead of doing the dishes, and I still wish them back, even though I know they don't belong here. I still have sorrows and I still sigh, and even with how open I try to be about all of it, I still feel shame in that sorrow. I fear making others uncomfortable with my story and the reality of my grief. I fear being a burden to someone. I fear that I sin by my sorrow. But if it takes away the breath of a stranger, of a medical professional who sees hard things all day long, I'm reminded that it's allowed to take my breath away too.

I'm not doing this grief thing perfectly. But I'm so grateful for the license that this Psalm gives me to deeply, painfully, grieve and sigh. And to know that not only does it take my doctor's breath away, not only does it knock me down, but that God has seen the distress of my soul, and he has seen me sin in that distress, and yet he has been steadfast in his love and gracious in his dealings with me, showering me with his his provision and forgiveness. I recently had a few weeks that were very hard for me; I felt like I couldn't get my head above water, and I felt like my soul and body were "wasted in grief." The longer I let it go, the worse it got, and the more upset with myself I became over it. And then, suddenly, God has set my feet on a broad place the past few days. I feel a spring awakening in my soul. I have a rekindled love of God's word and of God himself. He has not handed me over to self-pity and shame and despair, but has rescued me from my own deceitful heart and manipulative attitudes. My grieving doesn't cease, and there are days that I quip that God has been teaching me patience for 3 years, and I can't wait for him to be done with it. But I know that "my times are in his hands" and I can trust in him, his plan and his love: he sees all my grief, he sees the depths of my heart, he grieves the brokenness of this world, and desires to set it right. What a good and gracious God.

Let me say here, that my husband is such an incredible example to me of God's love. I know that I've been a downright miserable person to be around the last month. I have grumped and griped, and blamed, and belittled, and not once was he harsh towards me in return. He faithfully did the dishes, and brought me water, and snacks when I didn't want to get up off the couch, and spoke kindly towards me with more patience than I know I could have mustered in the same situation. When I realized my attitude and mean spirit, I had to seek his forgiveness, which he gave freely and immediately, asking nothing in compensation and he has not spoken of it again. In an even greater way, God has been gracious to me in ways I do not deserve and in more ways than I can count or even know; the greatest of which has been his complete forgiveness freely offered, and the second greatest of which has been giving me a husband after his own heart to walk through each day with.

I hope and pray that these hardest days are coming to an end. The doctor told me something else the other day: "we're going to treat this, and we're going to have hope." We've discovered that I have a thyroid disorder that can prevent pregnancy and cause miscarriage, and it's easily treatable. We've also found that I might have a clotting disorder that causes miscarriage and serious conditions that are life-threatening to both me and an unborn child, that can also be managed with great success. And so, though it's hard for me to really believe after so much loss, we have real hope that we will soon be on our way to welcoming a child into our arms to stay. What a beautiful, beautiful thought.

Whether or not we have children, we will still have hope. We will have a hope that is not difficult to believe, because unlike our experience with pregnancy and parenthood, we have not once been failed by the hope of Jesus Christ. Come what may, I will rejoice and be glad in his steadfast love whether I have joy or sorrow, excitement, or disappointment; for I always have Jesus and his everlasting love for me. I have the hope and knowledge that he will glorify himself in me and my circumstances. He will give grace and strength to not just face another day, but to be content and seek his glory in it, if only I ask. May he make it so.

Addison Jordan

"Whate'er my God ordains is right: here shall my stand be taken; though sorrow, need, or death be mine, yet am I not forsaken. My Father's care is round me there; he holds me that I shall not fall: and so to him I leave it all."

For the third time, I found myself pleading with the Lord for the life of my child. For the third time, that prayer was not answered in the way that I hoped, and our precious Addison Jordan entered the presence of the Lord. For the third time, I remember that "whate'er my God ordains is right." Not just because he is God and he does what he wants, but because he loves and cares those whom he calls his own. Whatever circumstances I find myself in, I find his care and love there with me, and the greater the sorrow, the more powerful and deep I find them to be. The more grief I face, the deeper I find myself needing to be rooted in his word and the truth of who he is. These are his words that I have been dwelling on these past few days:

Philippians:8-9 "Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me-- practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you." 

Peace in the midst of grief and turmoil can seem unattainable, and yet, here are instructions plainly laid out for how to find peace as I face the loss of my third child: fix my thoughts on these things. Each of these things describes the Lord, so I fix my eyes on him. There are people and circumstances, and things that even in a painful and difficult situation fall under these categories, so I thank the Lord for those things as well. It's not that I am barred from also thinking of the grief and the pain, but one of my greatest temptations is to fall too far into my own mind and my own feelings and forget to remember what is true. There is a war for my thoughts that must be fought minute by minute, and when I can think about these true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy things alongside that grief, that battle is won and there can be peace. Having spent far too much time living in anger and bitterness after my first miscarriage, this peace is such a beautiful and treasured gift from God that is worth fighting the battle for.

Psalm 55:22 "Cast your burden on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved."

After 2 miscarriages, it's hard not to see another one coming. As soon as I saw the two lines on the test, I knew that this was a very likely outcome. I knew that a third miscarriage would bring a new set of challenges and feelings and disappointment. At this point I not only grieve this child, I begin to grieve my idea of what I thought my family would be like. I grieve that with the excitement of each new life will come the fear (and the expectation) of more loss and grief. We are the one percent of couples who experience three miscarriages in a row, and statistically, it means that unless a cause is found, each future child we conceive will only have a 60% or less chance at living to reach my arms. That future is terrifying to me and letting go of my idea of what I thought my family would be like is a real struggle for me. With all this in mind, I knew this would be a hard one, and I knew that I must stand firm in my faith in the face of it all or I would have nothing left but fear. But the Lord will not permit the righteous to be moved, instead, he will sustain them. Boy do I need some sustaining right about now, and that sounds a lot better to me than living in fear and despair. This will not shake me, I will not be moved, because the Lord will make it so, and he will grant peace in times of deepest sorrow and uncertainty; "here shall my stand be taken."

James 1:17-18 "Every good and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.Of his own will be brought us forth by the word of truth that we might be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures." 

Even though this child's days were short, he or she was a good and perfect gift from above that we thank and praise God for. This is the verse that we have named this child after. Addison means child of Adam; with miscarried children it can be easy to forget their humanity, and yet this child was descended from Adam, the same as you and me, made in the image of God, brought forth by his will, and yet stained by Adam's original sin and in need of salvation. Jordan means flowing down, or descended; this baby is a gift that came down from the father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. On the days when our lives are turned upside-down and inside-out, God is there; unchanged, unsurpised, and unable to be moved. Because he is constant, I am able to wholly depend on him; to count on him with everything I have to be just and gracious and good to me even though I am completely undeserving of such things.

And finally, 

Revelation 21:3-4 "and I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.'"

My greatest hope for life after death is not to see my children, though I certainly look forward to it. No, my greatest hope is Jesus Christ. His worth surpasses all and brings more contentment than the most beautiful family in the world would. With each child we pray that above all else, they would know and love Jesus Christ, and that he would be glorified by their lives, and even by their deaths. Today, Brighton, Keelan, and Addison stand in his presence, worshiping him with all their hearts, minds, souls, and strength. Though I wish I could have held them in my arms and taught them his ways, I can't ask for more than this for my children: the salvation that comes from Jesus Christ crucified, and him glorified through them. This is the certain hope that I have in the sorrow and the tears and in the face of an uncertain future; that one day, the sting of death and pain of miscarriage and every sin and result of sin will pass away, and I will be part of God's people in his new creation. Then, I will join my voice with my children's as we praise the God who gives and takes away, the God who is good, the God who gave up his own son for my sake and my children's sake, the God who defeated the power of sin and death, the God who gives peace and hope in even the most terrifying and desperate situations, the God who never changes and never wavers, the God who is worthy of praise. "And so to him I leave it all": the physical pain, the overwhelming grief, and a future that, though it is uncertain to me, has been written by him from before the beginning of the world so that it would be for my good, and his glory. May he make it so, and give me the faith to trust his good plans for me and my children.

Foster Care: Honest Answers to Honest Questions

We've been licensed foster parents for 9 months now, and wanted to take some time to answer the most common questions we've gotten, and other questions that you have about foster care, foster kids, and foster parents! These are my answers from my own experience and training; the information I give is accurate to the best of my knowledge for my state and county, but may not be the same everywhere and may change! I've categorized by subject, so feel free to read everything or just the parts that interest you! If you have any other questions, drop a comment or message me! Here we go!

Day to Day Life:

Q. Are you still working? 

A. Yes! While I hope to stay home full time or most of the time after Matt graduates and finds a job, right now I am still working outside the home!

Q. How does daycare work?

A. Child Protective Services partners with a number of daycares through a voucher program. This voucher is good for a set amount towards the daycare tuition, determined by the child's age. For example, our chosen daycare charges $40/wk more than our voucher is good for (because we don't have a ton of good options in our neighborhood and we're picky!). This means that CPS pays the voucher amount each week, and we pay the extra $40. We use our CPS reimbursement to cover this cost, meaning that daycare is free for us!

Q. How quickly do your kids start daycare?

A. It depends. We have a back-up daycare that has so far told us every time that they can start the next day. Our preferred daycare is wonderful about working with foster families, and will usually be able to make an opening within a week or so. The children also have to be up-to-date on their shots to start daycare which can sometimes be an issue (aka spending 4 hours at the health department the day before they start daycare). I prefer to take some time off to bond with a new child if possible, and Matt's schedule as a student allows him some time at home. Between this and some neighbors who are foster parents and our approved babysitters, we can minimize my time off work, and allow the child some time with us to adjust before beginning daycare.

Q. How does working full time work?

A. Teamwork! You, your spouse or family, your close support network, and your social worker work together to make sure the needs of the child and the requirements of the system are met. Social workers will take children to visitation and doctor appointments if you aren't able to, but we try to do as much of it ourselves as possible! It's also important to know that foster care falls under the Family Medical Leave Act. You can talk to your HR director at work to find out what this means in your company and discuss your leave options when you receive a new placement or need to take time off for court and doctor appointments! My office is incredibly understanding and flexible with me when it comes to foster care, which I don't take for granted, and try not to take unfair advantage of! One of the common questions I see is if you can be single and be a foster parent; I'm going to lump this in here. Yes, you can be single and be a foster parent. I can't imagine doing it as a single parent, but I also can't imagine being a single parent generally speaking! If you have a great community of support, and are willing to take some time off work for it, you can do it! It won't be easy, but it's allowed and possible! Preference may be given to two parent homes (I don't know!), but mostly CPS just wants to put kids in loving homes!

Q. What is the "reimbursement" you mentioned?

A. As a general rule, foster parents don't talk about the financial side of it very much. What I generally say is "we don't do it for the money, but it would be a lot harder to do it without it." The reimbursement is designed to cover the costs of caring for a child in your home. It is not a "payment". There are rules for what it must be spent on, and we've found that it very comfortably covers everything we need for the child and allows us to involve them in all of our normal family activities and trips. At the end of a placement anything we spent the reimbursement on that the child still uses goes with them.

Q. What do foster children call their foster parents?

A.Whatever the child wants to. We haven't personally dealt with this as all of our foster loves have been infants so far but I have a few thoughts on it. The most important thing is that the child is comfortable, especially while they process the change and adjust to their new environment. I've heard of foster children calling their foster parents many different things. Some kids prefer to call them mom and dad because it won't draw attention to the fact that they are foster children when out in public. Some call them mom and dad because it's what their foster siblings call them. Some call them by their first names or "Momma <First Name>". I don't have any issues with a foster child calling me mommy, because I think it's possible for kids to have more than one mom for a while, but if a bio-mom didn't want them calling me mommy I would do my best to respect and accommodate that. We don't immediately call ourselves mom and dad when we get a placement, especially with shorter placements. As we learn about the role of their birth parents in their lives, we may feel more comfortable with it. For example, if a child doesn't have a father figure in their life, we would be more comfortable calling Matt dad. Please feel free to ask a foster-parent what their kids call them, or just pay attention to the family interactions to find out, so you can be consistent with their terminology! This is so helpful to the kids and the parents!

Requirements

Q. Who can be a foster parent?

A. Just about anyone (which probably means YOU!). Y'all, I'm 25 and my husband is in grad-school; I'm serious, almost anyone is allowed to do this if you have a heart for it! In our state you must be either legally married or legally single (no live-ins).You must be able to demonstrate that you are financially independent (make more than your expenses each month). You can have loans and debt, as long as your monthly payments don't mean that you are earning less than you spend. You can work full-time, part-time or stay at home as long as you meet these requirements and are able to arrange approved childcare for the time you need it. There is a limit on the number of children you may have living in your home, which I believe in our state is 4. Most states have a similar requirement, but some are so desperate for good foster-parents that they may waive this requirement. You must have a medical professional complete an general physical and fill out an accompanying form to prove you are physically capable of caring for foster children. You also can't have a criminal record (a parking ticket won't stop you from becoming a foster-parent though, only serious or repeated offenses!), everyone over 14 in the home must pass a background check.

Q. What are the requirements for your home?

A. SAFETY! This is a hard question as I never actually received a list of requirements, but I'll go through the main things. First of all, you have to have room for a foster-child (but not necessarily A room!). You can live in an apartment or a house. We have a unique living situation, and CPS never batted an eye at it! Children under 18 months may share a room with their foster parents. Children of the same gender and within 2 years of each other may share a bedroom (up to 2 children per room, though exceptions may be made to this, especially for sibling groups). I believe that your own opposite gender children may share a room, but the foster-child may only share a room within these requirements. A foster child must have their own age-appropriate bed. Past that, it's a matter of making the home safe: basic baby-proofing, locking up medicines and cleaning supplies, and having smoke detectors, a 5lb fire extinguisher, a Carbon Monoxide detector, and a fire escape ladder if the child sleeps on the second floor or higher of a building. 

The Licensure Process

Q. How long does it take to become a foster parent?

A. It took us 4 months from submitting our first application to getting licensed. And then another 2.5 months before welcoming our first placement. This is EXTREMELY SHORT compared to most states where you're told to plan on it taking a year to get licensed.

Q. What does the licensing process involve?

A. Background check, training, and a homestudy. First, we submitted an online application with CPS. Then once we were contacted by a social worker a month later, we had an initial walk-through of our home to be sure we met minimum space and safety requirements, then attended a 2 hour orientation meeting where we were finger-printed and gave permission for background checks, followed by two more 3 hour training sessions, and more hours of online training. In our state this must all be done in a specific order, and missing a step will make you re-start the entire process. Once this was completed we did a "homestudy" which consists (or is suppose to consist) of a detailed inspection of your home to be sure you've met all the safety requirements, and an interview by your social worker with every member of the household regarding your motivation for foster care, parenting philosophy, day to day lives, religion, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. (you get the point). As mentioned above, we also had to submit financial documents and have physicals as part of the licensing process. It might sound like a lot, but really it wasn't very difficult at all, they're just making sure that vulnerable kids get placed in safe and loving homes!

Foster Kids

Q. What determines the foster children who are placed with you?

A. We do! When we applied to be foster parents we listed all of our criteria. Right now we've even put a limit on the length of placement we're able to take since there's a chance we move out of state after graduation next year. Age, gender, levels of disabilities, and even race are traits that we were able to say we would or wouldn't be willing to accept. Strangely, every time I receive a call for a new placement, we are usually told very little, but we are always told the race. We even had CPS call us back once when they found out the race of the child was different than we'd been told (they didn't tell us the gender and age had also changed!). My response is always, "they can be purple for all I care!" When we get a call for a placement we can say yes or no based on the information they give us or our situation. 

Q. "Was it drugs?" (and other questions about foster kids' backgrounds and parents)

A. I can't tell you. I might not even know, and we REALLY aren't allowed to discuss the specifics of a foster child's situation because it's really not our place to tell. What I can tell you, is that children come into care for many different reasons, and it's always important to respect the child, the child's biological family, and the privacy of everyone involved. If you ask me a question and I give you a vague answer, please don't push me to give more information. It's hard not to talk about it, but we want to keep our commitment to respect everyone involved in the process. If there's a question you'd like to ask, prefacing it with "if you aren't allowed to discuss it, that's okay, but I was wondering...." is a great way to show your interest while respecting everyone and our commitments. 

Helpful and Unhelpful Things

Q. What are some unhelpful things that people say to foster parents?

A. I try to understand that everything you say is said with the best intentions so if you've said any of these, I'm not upset, I probably don't remember because a million other people have probably said it too. The most common thing most of us hear is "I couldn't do it, I'd get too attached." This is such a common thing that people say that I'm sure most people never think about the implications of it. But to a foster parent, we hear a few different things in this sentence that I'm going to try to briefly unpack; bear with me. First, it says that we must have some sort of special ability to do this, which isn't true. We're normal people with normal limitations and normal hearts. Second, it implies that we don't love them "too much." On this point, the first thing I'll say is that when we had our 2.5 month long placement, I had actual doubts about whether or not I would love our own children as much as I loved her; the same doubts that many parents experience when they are expecting their second child. The amount that we love these children is nothing less than your love for your own kids. Loving them means doing what's best for them, and recognizing that what's best might not be us, it's their own family! Yes, we've selfishly wished that we could keep a foster forever. Yes, saying goodbye was probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but, we've learned that when hard comes your way, you do what you need to do, you do what is best, and you make it through. That means saying goodbye, and it means letting your own heart be broken for a child who you love and may never see again and finding out that you're okay after-all. That all being said, this statement implies that these kids aren't worth your love. This statement says "my own emotional comfort is more important than welcoming vulnerable, scared children in need of love and care into my home." I know this isn't what goes through your mind when you say this, but it's what we hear. Not everyone is able to be a foster parent, but please don't write it off so quickly, and there are better ways to acknowledge the difficulty of foster care than this statement. Okay, that wasn't brief, my bad. Most other things that are unhelpful stem from this and what I said above about respecting biological families and privacy: "will you be able to adopt her", "maybe the family won't want her and you can adopt her", "how much do you get paid" etc. Please remember that I will always try to understand that what you've said is with the best intentions and remind myself you just may not know how to say it, or I might have training or information that you don't; I really don't get my metaphorical feathers ruffled over it! Now on to the flip side of this:

Q. What are some helpful things people can SAY to foster parents?

 A. Basically, just have some tact when you talk to foster parents! Ask kind, open questions instead of making statements and assumptions! We want to answer your questions as much as we're able to (hence this blog post!), and we want your support. Please don't let worrying about offending me get in the way of you asking, but also be teachable, and not a busybody!Ask out of genuine concern and a desire to get to know us and our kids, and you can't go wrong! Let us know that you pray for us, and that you love us and our kids for however long they may be around! The way our church loved our foster daughter while she was with us was incredible to us, and their sadness at her leaving was an encouragement, especially when people were able to share the bittersweetness with us. Again, ask us about our emotions and experiences instead of assuming what they are, foster care is complicated and messy, and so are our emotions about it! If you've read this, it means you care, and we are so thankful for you and your willingness to learn about our lives and our kids!

Q. What are some helpful things people can DO for foster Parents?

A. Normal things you'd do for other new parents, but you may have to do them a little differently. Meals are 100% always appreciated, especially when we first get a new placement! Babysitting can be tricky, because there are restrictions on who can watch foster-children, but you can still find ways. Ask foster parents what you can do to be able to babysit for them (this may mean getting background checked through CPS) or offer to come play with the kids or rock babies at the foster family's house so the parents can clean, cook, fold laundry, nap, or just sit in another room to have an uninterrupted conversation, or even better, do some cleaning for them so they can bond with their fosters! There are ALWAYS bottles in need of washing at our house when we have a placement! A friend of ours even offered to come stay overnight and get up with our foster baby throughout the night for us once to let us get some sleep! Even though we never took him up on it, the thought was very appreciated! Encourage your kids to play with our kids instead of being afraid of their "influence", foster kids need friends too, and having friends will help them heal and learn! Understand that we aren't allowed to discipline our children the same way you might discipline yours, and that there may be traumas and emotional issues that you aren't aware of when foster parents interact with their children and respond to their behaviors. If the foster family has other kids, offer to take the bio kids (and maybe do something special with them) so the parents can bond with the new child or take them to the doctor/visitations, etc! Another thing you can do is offer gently used hand-me-downs and extra furniture to foster families. Our area has a huge facebook group for this that allows people to donate to foster homes, or biological families who need to meet certain requirements to be able to bring their kids home (beds, clothes, food, etc!). Please, don't offer them your junk though! And, of course, pray for us and our kids, and ask us how you can do so!

Wow. Thanks for reading this, friends! Your support means the world to us and there's no way we could do this without our community behind us! If you have any questions about foster care, or any interest in becoming foster parents, please reach out, we LOVE to talk about it!

Life In-Between

Since "Precious" left 3 and a half weeks ago, we've had one more placement come and go (newborns are HARD, y'all!!), and have adjusted back to a child-free life. It wasn't easy, in fact it's been downright hard some days. I will admit, there have been temper-tantrums that probably made my husband feel like there was a child in the house. I felt like I lost the one thing I was really good at. I felt like I lost the social circles and opportunities that come with having a little on your hip. I miss her, but I also just miss being a mom. And I miss my own littles more for it. But we're trying to make the most out of time without kids, and I'm grateful to find that, by God's grace, I'm doing a decent job of it, because I haven't always.

A few months after the first miscarriage, my best friend asked if I wanted to come up to Chicago and go to Six Flags Great America with her because she had free tickets for an upcoming weekend. It just so happened that it was "Confederate Memorial Day" down here in the deep south (yeah, I never knew that was a thing either) and I had a long weekend, so I was able to go! I told a small group I was part of about this trip, to which one of the women responded "it's nice to be able to just go and do that since you don't have kids."

Ouch.

She didn't know. It wasn't her fault, but that sentence cut deep because I was already afraid that I was dishonoring my child by going and doing something I wouldn't have been able to if he or she was still alive. I lived with this mindset for a long time, and I made myself miserable because of it. I was no good to anyone because of it, and I didn't honor God because I wanted to blame someone else for how miserable I was. So, I blamed him, though I would never have admitted it at the time.

I've since learned that the Lord gives joy and blessing even in the hardest of circumstances. We are not wrong to enjoy those things which we would not otherwise have been allowed. He also allows us to use our circumstances to love others and love him in ways we wouldn't have been able to in other circumstances.

In the last few weeks without kids, we've: babysat other fosters, and gone on a spontaneous camping trip, and stayed up late, and slept through the night (praise the Lord...), and spent an entire Sunday afternoon playing a board game, and attended a foster-care training/support group, and had friends over, and had 5 adults sleep in our two bedroom/one bathroom apartment one night, and made goals for ourselves to get healthier and more self-disciplined, and re-organized our entire apartment, and I've been more focused at work, and we've missed our foster-love, and we've missed our babies, and we've seen again that the Lord is good, and that sorrow and joy can mingle. That they don't cancel each other out, but make each other more wholesome in a way. We've fully understood what we've lost, and yet the good things are even sweeter when they are a balm to the soul.

In all of this, I'm reminded that the greatest tragedy in history was also my greatest good; when our very creator suffered and agonized and died, we were granted freedom and access to him that we never had before. I've been excused from condemnation for my sin and clothed in righteousness because an innocent man, the Son of God, was condemned to die on my behalf.  "Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?" God redeems a broken world. He redeemed his own betrayal, humiliation and death for his glory and our good. He redeems our lives that have been mangled by our sin and by the effects of sin on the physical world; he gives beauty and joy in the midst of loss and confusion and he gives mercy and grace and healthy conviction in the midst of temper-tantrums and bad attitudes and pity parties. He is patient, he is kind, and he is good.

Sovereignty and the "Should have Been"

We're visiting Matt's family this week. We thought we'd have foster love with us, but it's okay that we don't. She never should have been ours in the first place. What's hard is having had a child in our home, how easy it is now to imagine what it would be like with our own kids. When I close my eyes as I sit on the deck, I can see the kiddie pool and the sprinkler with my blonde haired, blue eyed  23 month old Brighton laughing with auntie Sarah, playing with daddy, snuggling with grandma, being teased by grandpa and saying "mommy look!" as I rest my drink on my growing baby belly and chat about our plans for Brighton's second birthday party later this month or next. I can smell the sunscreen, hear the water, feel the sticky fingers covered in melted popsicle....

But none of that is real. None of that is the lord's plan. However beautiful it might have been, his plan is even better, even if it's harder; even if I don't see it right now. At the same time, our family is not together, and that's a result of the sin in this world and the fallen nature of even our own bodies. I rest in God's sovereignty while I mourn our babies and the life that could have been; that even in some ways should have been.

The hollowness of losing children may fade into the background most days, but there are times their absence is still felt as strongly as their presence would have been; when I feel like if I listened hard enough, I could almost hear my toddler laughing and playing in the backyard. And my heart longs for the day we can all be together. But today, I must choose to live in reality, and not get lost in the could have been. To believe in God's goodness, and not in my own wisdom, and to remember that the best beautiful sunny day with family still pales in comparison with my children's reality: the presence of their heavenly father, and their savior and co-heir and brother, Jesus Christ. He cares for us, he cares for them, and he will set all things right. Praise the Lord.

Signing up for Goodbye

We didn't sign up to foster because we don't have our own kids (though we love having a full home).
We didn't sign up to foster to make ourselves happy (though we find great pleasure in it).
We didn't sign up to foster as a way to adopt (though if a child needed a forever home, we'd say yes).
We did sign up up to foster to love and care for children who need someone to show them love and care until their own people are able to again. We signed up to say goodbye.

And now I'm sitting here in the post-goodbye. Putting off packing up the toys and clothes and bottles that didn't go with her, and remembering that when we signed up for the giggles and snuggles, we signed up for the heartache.

It's not natural for parenthood to come and go. It's not natural for kids to have to live away from their families. Nothing about foster care is "right." It exists because of brokenness, and that brokenness brings uniquely hard things and heartaches.

It means forming deep attachments even when you know it can all be over tomorrow. For the past two and half months we loved fiercely and fully without holding back, knowing we would say goodbye, but not letting that keep us from giving her every bit of love we could.

It means uncertainty. We've known from day two that goodbye was the plan. We've known for a week and half that it was coming soon. But it came quick and out of the blue today, one day before we were set to leave on vacation. Within 4 hours of the first call today, we'd said our goodbyes to our first longer-term foster love. She was gone as quickly as she'd come.

It means being thankful for things others take for granted. We are grateful that we can be 100% confident that she is loved and cared for; something that isn't always the case in fostering, but is true for most parents.

It means remembering that our children are not our own. Whether they are biological, foster or adopted, they are never ours. They belong first and foremost to God, whom we trust to love them and care for them even more than we do. And, in the case of fostering, it means remembering that even though we may be parents to these little ones today, we aren't their only parents, and we aren't their true parents and we aren't their only family. They belong to someone else, we're just filling in.

It means that "not fair" only applies to kids, not foster parents. Today was fast and hard, but it was fair. No one in this system is obligated to take our feelings into account. The only thing that matters is the child and their family, and that's fair. We waived our right to "not fair" when we signed up. What's not fair is to keep a child from their people longer than is necessary.

It means remembering that just because we signed up doesn't mean it's easy. There is appropriate grief to be found, but it must not overshadow what is right for the child. Yes, it was hard. But we've done what we set out to do, and we handed off a happy, healthy child to her people; we've loved hard, and we've hurt hard, and she's better off for it. Please, let it be hard for us, but please know that it's fair, and that hard is good. We signed up for this, and we wouldn't have it any other way.

With only one guaranteed year left here, we haven't decided if we'll continue to foster now or wait until we've settled in wherever Matt finds a job. But doubtless, there will be more children in need of a loving home for any amount of time, and we look forward to welcoming the next one, making them safe and loved and happy and healthy, and saying goodbye again and again and again. Because someone's got to do it, and I'm happy for it to be me, even in the goodbyes.

Another Name

It took us 2 years and 18 days to name our first baby; it only took us 17 days to name our second baby: Keelan Sabbath Pinckard. 

Keelan: Little, Fair. This precious, tiny, fragile baby was and is loved so deeply, and I know that the depth of my love for this little one is little in comparison with the Lord's love for both me and my children.

Sabbath: Rest. Eternal glory is a sabbath rest, and this little one has entered that rest. The Lord has also given us rest from our grief with this assurance and comfort. 

Pinckard: A part of our family forever, and a hole in our hearts until we join that Sabbath rest.


Keelan and Brighton's blurry ultrasounds hang on our living room wall with their names and birthdates written underneath the only pictures we have of them. Together, the names, pictures, dates, and the hollow space in our lives are the only things we have of them this side of heaven. Their names are so precious to us because they allow us to name that feeling of something missing that never quite goes away, even in the happiest of times. They allow us to honor them as image bearers and children of God. Their names remind us that though they are far away, they are no less real. Though they were small, they are not small in the mind and the plan of the Lord, and they are not small in our minds and hearts either. In fact, they are a huge part of our everyday lives. They remind us that one day, we will meet them face to face, and in their presence, we will call them the names that we have given them in their absence. Together, we will worship the Lord who holds us all in his hands. Our children are not our own, "but belong body and soul, in life and in death, to our faithful savior Jesus Christ." We praise him for Brighton and Keelan's lives and that he cares for them, that he cares for us, and that we are not left without hope as we grieve, but rest in his sacrifice that has granted us eternal life and the great comfort and joy that we have because of it.

When Sorrows Like Sea Billows Roll

We lost another baby this week.

"When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say 'it is well, it is well with my soul.'"

After 5 weeks of beautiful, joyous peace like a river, the sea billows are rolling. Two years and 5 months after losing our first baby, and after 16 months of infertility, we found out we were finally, miraculously, pregnant again with no medical intervention. It was hard at first to think of it as anything definite, but slowly we were able to have faith that this time, everything would (maybe) be okay. The morning sickness came like a beast along with all the other classic symptoms, and we thought "great, proof that all is well!" We told friends and family quickly, because, after going through it once, we're still  firm believers in celebrating new life with our loved ones, and having their support if tragedy strikes. We finally went for the first ultrasound at 9 weeks, knowing in the back of our minds that there isn't always a happy ending, but excited and optimistic nonetheless. And then we discovered that it seems our baby stopped growing 3 weeks earlier, and if his or her heart ever beat, it wasn't now, and we never heard it, and we never will in this life.

In this life.

In this second great loss, I rest upon two and a half years worth of God's grace through which I struggled with the why and the what and the how and the what now. 

I rest in the words of the Canon of Dort that my brother sent me yesterday:

"We must judge concerning the will of God from his Word, which declares that the children of believers are holy, not by nature but in virtue of the covenant of grace, in which they are included with their parents. Therefore, God-fearing parents ought not to doubt the election and salvation of their children whom God calls out of this life in their infancy."

And then I rest upon the knowledge that each and every day with our savior is immeasurably better than the best day that I could have ever given my child here with me. I rest in the knowledge that God loves our children even more than we do, and that even when his plan is hard, his plan is good. He is good. I rest upon this firm, beautiful conviction and comfort that I finally came to so recently while I struggled to find joy and contentment in the midst of infertility: if I never get pregnant again, God is good. If I have 10 miscarriages, God is good, and if we have living children, God is good. His goodness and love are not dependent on my circumstances, for He has loved me from everlasting. He has given his Son for me, and if he would do that, then there is no shadow of a doubt about his love and goodness towards me and my children.

The loss of my own children reminds me of the difficulty of God giving up his own son for unworthy sinners. Jesus' anguish in the garden and on the cross reminds me that he went through worse than these, the deepest, most painful and terrible experiences of my life, in order that I and my children might have the gift of righteousness and eternal life.

And I find comfort that the Lord has brought me so far since the word miscarriage first entered our everyday lives two and half years ago. I praise God that the bitterness and anger that I allowed to hold me hostage for so long have no place in my heart and mind today as I face the same tragedy again. I am grateful for the incredible co-workers, bosses, friends and church family who have created an incredible support network, and for a husband who feels the loss and grief as much as I do, and for family who knows and grieves that they too have lost a grandchild/niece/nephew; I am so grateful that this time, I am not alone. I am grateful for the little princess that lives with us right now  who fills me with joy and makes me smile on the darkest days. I am grateful that instead of anger towards the Lord, today he is sweeter than ever to me, for I know that he loves and cares for me and for my children, and that he is here and he is good; even when it is unbearably hard, he is SO good to me.

These blessings and the truths that have carried me through the last couple years are held close like a buoy in these sea billows, and I can say through the tears and the agony that, through no effort of my own, but by God's grace and mercy, "it is well, it is well with my soul." Praise the Lord.

My One Day as a Foster Parent

We got our first foster-baby a couple of weeks ago! Here's how it went down:

Wednesday: I was at a conference in Atlanta with some ladies from presbytery and a friend. When we had been deciding how to arrange our transportation I figured that my friend and I should probably drive separately from the rest of the group in case I needed to leave early for foster-care, but that night at the hotel I prayed "Lord, if there is a child who isn't safe where they, please bring them to our home, but just maybe not this weekend!" Little did I know....

Thursday: In the afternoon we gathered for the first session of the conference, and as I silenced my phone I joked to the person next to me that I always keep my phone on obnoxiously loud in case CPS ever decided to call me. We sang a few songs and sat down, and when I looked at my phone I saw that I had missed a call from my social worker. I freaked out entirely silently and ran out of the room to the hallway where I texted and then called my social worker until she answered me because I was afraid she would call the next person on her list since she hadn't gotten a hold of me! After a couple tries she answered and told me they were going to have an 8 month old in need of a foster home within the next few days and asked if we would be willing. "Uh, YESS!!! I've only been waiting THREE MONTHS FOR YOU TO CALL ME!" is what I thought in my head. Really I just said "YES! But I'm in Atlanta, how soon do I need to be home?!?!" And she said to sit tight while she got in touch with the baby's case worker. So I called Matt and my parents and his parents, and then waited ANXIOUSLY the rest of the day, and in typical government fashion, I didn't hear anything back. After so long, and it being so difficult to get a child in our home, I quickly began to think that something had changed, and they wouldn't need us anymore. I was so excited to finally be really doing this, but the tragedy wasn't lost on me. Something has to go terribly wrong for a child to be put into foster-care. But I was glad that the Lord (and CPS) had chosen us to be there for this child during this time.

Friday: She got back in touch, and towards the end of the day and we were told that he would be coming on Saturday. So Rachel and I packed up, said goodbye to the presbytery ladies, and headed back to Jackson! I got home around 11pm, and Matt and I pulled out clothes and bedding and made lists and got ready in whatever ways we could!

Saturday: We got up, ran to Walmart to try to get everything we needed and just generally kill time until we were contacted by peanut's social worker. Finally, we were told that we wouldn't be needed until Monday.

Monday: This is the point where I can't give out any details since it now involves personal details about peanut's situation. But, we finally walked through our door with him in our arms! Many snuggles were had, and he fell asleep in my arms and slept through the night in his crib! (Hallelujah!)

Tuesday: I took peanut to walmart at 7:30am cuz we'd already been up for two hours and he needed things. It was a categorical disaster which I was thankfully able to laugh at even as it was happening. Then, almost exactly 24 hours after peanut came, he was able to leave. Again, we can't give much detail, but we can say that we are confident that the situation was worked out in his best interest!

When it was all said and done, we spent way longer getting ourselves and our home ready for him than he spent with us! However, we are so grateful that we were able to be there for a child who needed a safe and loving place to land, even if it was just for a day! After all of our struggles with the system, we were able to see it work as it was intended, which was such an encouragement! I know that it won't always be a joy to see a foster-child leave our home, but this time it was, and we are so grateful for that. Everyone seemed surprised at how okay I was, myself included to some extent. But I didn't sign up to be a foster parent so I could pretend that I'm the best place for every child who comes through my door; I signed up to help children and families in need for as long as they need it. This time it was one day. Next time it may be longer, someday it may even be forever. Now we just wait for the next call to come so we can say "YES! We will care for this child as long as they need us, and we will love and pray for them forever!"

Sleep Tight, Little One

Tonight my house is messy, my arms are full, and the hole in my heart is smaller than it's been in 26 months because this precious little human being just crawled into my lap and fell sound asleep on my chest. Praising Jesus for this little life and for putting it in mine for whatever time he's chosen to.

Foster-Care: How did we get here?

When Matt and I were engaged, we memorized the book of James together (well, he did, I got 4/5 chapters done). This means that the first chapter of James is ingrained in my mind deeper than nearly any other part of the Bible. This is how James 1 ends:

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

Foster children are not "orphans" in the sense that we normally think of it, but they are children who have been deemed by the state, in one way or another, as lacking any parent or parent figure to care for them. And they are in distress. These little people have had their whole lives ripped out from under them with no warning. They have lost parents, friends, teachers, and possibly siblings in the span of a few hours with very little explanation. These children may have witnessed or endured terrible things prior to showing up on our doorstep. They are orphans in distress. And they need help.

The truth is, they don't just need us though. They need the father to the fatherless. The defender of the poor. A shelter in times of trouble. The one who redeems sin and tragedy and makes things beautiful again. A never-failing, never-ending, never-leaving care-taker with a plan for their lives and the ability to enact it. They need the Lord. And the Lord chooses to act through his people. He chooses to give Christians the responsibility and privilege of caring for these kids and leading them into relationship with the one who can do so perfectly.

Our decision to do foster care begins with that reality: the calling and privilege of Christians to dispense Christ's love and mercy in tangible, every day ways. This is an intimidating truth. It is an uncomfortable truth. It means giving up earthly convenience and comfort for the sake of someone who will never be able to repay you. It is not easy. Don't think for a second that those who do foster-care or who do missions, or any other outworking of this calling are somehow immune to the sacrifice and pain involved. But it is worth it because our treasure is not in money, or ease, or sleep. It is in heaven. The ultimate goal of our life is to glorify God; that is the only thing worth pursuing with our lives. We have all of eternity to rest and "have it easy." What does it matter, if, in this life, we give up some things? What does it matter if some days are downright miserable and hard when, in the end, we will spend eternity with Christ? Things never seem as bad in retrospect than they do in the moment. When Matt and I were dating and engaged, we were long distance the entire time. It was miserable to be apart and we just couldn't wait to get married. Now that we are three years into marriage, the pain and difficulty of that wait have no bearing on my every-day-life other than to have developed a pattern of thinking that increases my thankfulness for each day that we spend together. Won't it be the same as we live this life and wait for Christ? (As a side note, isn't that how it is with anything we desire that we must wait for? The harder the wait for the gift, the more we rejoice in the giving!)

That's the theological basis for foster-care, but what about the practical? Matt and I have ALWAYS talked about foster-care and adoption. It's one of those things that the time is never "right for" though. Finances and life situations will always be a concern. For a long time we didn't pursue foster-care because we plan to move away when Matt finishes school. Last summer a small group I was in read "The Gospel Comes with a House Key" by Rosaria Butterfield. Her "radically ordinary hospitality" and her thorough idea of what hospitality and just life generally looks like for the Christian finally pushed us over the edge, and we submitted our application to CPS in August. If you read it you will easily understand how this book led us to take the first big step toward making foster-care a reality in our home, I can't recommend it enough! We decided to look into it, and to find out if it is better for us to do foster-care for the time that we can, even if it meant that a child might have to leave our home when we move. As we talked with social workers about this, they made it clear that they would rather have these kids in good homes for any amount of time that they can, than to not have us at all. And as we've gone through the process and become more and more committed to our future foster-kids, we've realized that the Lord is sovereign over the timing of these kids coming and going, and that we may have to stay put for a little while longer if that's what it takes to help our kids the most. And the Lord has given us so much contentment in that possibility. 

We've also gone from thinking that this is a bad time to do foster-care to believing that it's the best! We have an AMAZING community and so much support from friends who literally live 30 seconds away from us. Can you get better than that? Oh, but you can, because it turns out that our little city has the most incredible network of foster-parent support that I could ask for! A facebook group with hundreds of people who are constantly offering up their hand-me-downs and furniture and formula and just about anything you could need to foster-parents for free. We have a consignment shop that keeps a "foster corner" stocked with clothes for all ages for foster-parents to come get any time and monthly respite nights available at local churches where licensed care-givers will take care of our kids while we have time to talk with and be encouraged by other foster-parents. We have friends who are willing to be background checked and finger printed so they can babysit for us. My mom and her friends just made us TEN fleece blankets so that each of our foster children will be able to choose their favorite to use when they come, and take it with them when they leave our home. Members of our church have given us hand-me-downs, and financial assistance as we prepped our house for these kids. The Lord has provided for us so generously that it's abundantly clear that this is what we are supposed to do. And we are SO excited to do it!