Do you remember when you were young,
that exciting season of life when you were just starting out, and the whole
world was full of endless possibilities?
It was like holding a brand new travel book in your hands and being
given carte blanche. You could go
anywhere you wanted to go. Do
anything. Become anything. You could devote your life to academia, a
career, a family, full-time ministry . . . or all of the above. And no matter which direction you decided to
go, your goal was the same as almost everyone else on the planet: to leave your
mark. To impact people’s lives. To make a difference.
So of all the options in the world,
all of the good, noble roads you could have chosen, you decide to become a
foster parent. You’ve heard the stories
of the underprivileged children in your very own town, children who are being
abused and neglected and abandoned.
Children who need care and encouragement. And so you think, Why not me? You know that you have a lot of love to give,
and you want to offer a child the hope of safety and the promise of protection. Your foster care journey begins.
You do your research, find an agency
whose motto is “to make a difference in the life of the child” (a quick Google
search shows 42 million results!), attend weeks and weeks of training classes,
fill out applications, schedule physicals for everyone in your family, get a criminal
background check, request references, invite a social worker to inspect your
home, and then, finally, you are licensed and ready.
A foster child is placed in your
home, and your excitement is mixed with slight apprehension. What are you getting yourself into? You take a breath and reassure yourself: you are a bright, competent, self-confident
adult; how hard can it be? His dirty
face and angry eyes invades your home and your world, and he screams. And he screams and screams and screams. And he won’t stay in bed. And he vomits orange juice onto your
cream-colored carpet. And he rips your
necklace right off of you. The tiniest
of suspicions begins, and you wonder if maybe you made a mistake. Will you really be able to make a difference
in this child’s life?
Un-be-lievable. They call you about caring for another child,
and in spite of your recent doubts and questioning of your abilities, you find
yourself saying yes. And then again, and
then again, and yet again. There are
more screamers, more little terrors who destroy your belongings. And somehow, almost miraculously, you love
them anyway. You realize that somewhere
along the way you have learned to be patient and full of grace. Your expectations have become more
realistic. You understand that loving
imperfect children is infinitely more important than having a perfect home.
You discover that your perspective
and your prayers have begun to change.
No longer are you relying on your superb parenting skills, your fierce
determination, or even your Biblically-sound wisdom. Yes, you still pray every day, every moment,
for the Lord’s direction and guidance. But you understand that it’s not about you at
all. That it is the Lord Himself who is
the Counselor, the Redeemer, the One who is able to reach into their hearts and
heal their brokenness. That He is the Great I AM. The One who makes the impossible possible.
Over time, little by little, the
children who enter your life become more medically fragile and physically
demanding. The needs are increasingly
complex and difficult. Your sleep, the
sleep you treasure and once thought was so essential, becomes more sporadic and
infrequent. You spend hours and hours each
month in hospital waiting rooms and doctor’s offices. Many nights you are responding to the alarms
on this medical equipment, trying to feed that failure-to-thrive baby just one
more drop, contacting the on-call doctor with questions about medication
dosages. Why do you do it? Because you know that the sacrifices you are making are having a direct impact
on these children’s lives. Their
progress, their health is tangible proof that what you are doing is truly
making a difference.
But you also realize something
else. You have much more perseverance
and stamina than you ever thought possible.
If you had never walked this road of faith, stepping into terrifying areas
that far exceed your abilities, how would you have known what you were capable
of? You are just so, so thankful that
the Lord chose you for this role. That
He has allowed you to have the great privilege of be a part of these dear children’s
stories!
There are so many children. So many tragic stories, destroyed families,
devastated lives. Each one of them impacts
your life in a different way; however, a few precious ones leave their mark in
ways you never could have imagined. They
are the cherished ones, the treasures who plumb the depths of your love. They tiptoe in at first, and then somehow they
manage to dive right into the center of your heart, and no matter how far they
plummet, they never do reach the bottom.
If you had never met them, how would you have known that it was possible
to love so deeply, so passionately and completely?
When you embarked on the foster care
journey, you knew it would be an adventure.
You expected to face challenges.
You predicted that some days, some seasons would be difficult. But you pursued that road because you knew it
had immense value. You hoped and prayed
that your journey would make a difference.
And indeed it has! Children have been loved and given hope. Little ones have thrived and have actually
survived because of your care. But
mostly, unexpectedly, you have
changed and grown. You have discovered
strengths, a deeper faith, and a more powerful love than you ever knew
existed. All along, while you were
loving and working and serving and sacrificing and praying, the journey was making a difference. In you.
“We glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation
produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint.” Romans 5:3-5
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