Teaching Him

Please, God.  Please don’t make me do this!  Surely there is some other way.  Surely there is a solution I haven’t thought of yet.  You know me!  You know I am weak and exhausted and ill-equipped for this path.  You know I have cancer, for heaven’s sake!  God, you know I can’t do this!

And yet, despite my tear-filled tantrum, despite my reminding God of all the things He already knows, this is precisely what He is asking me to do.  He is asking me to teach my son.  At home.  We tried sending him to school where he might be able to receive the special education that he needs.  But that was not the answer.  We tried hiring a private teacher at home where his fragile health will be protected.  But that was not the answer either.  

No, I know in the depths of my heart that there is no other option for his education.  For this season, anyway, God is calling me to this task.  He is calling me to rely on, not the experts or the professionals or the “multitudes.” There is certainly a time and a place and season for those resources. But for this season, He wants me to rely on the Holy One of Israel.  He wants me to seek help from Him as I walk this path.  (Isaiah 31:1)

And the path, for me, is daunting. Since the day I met him nearly ten years ago, I have poured myself wholeheartedly into protecting him and keeping him healthy.  I have researched his complicated physical conditions and have found the very best specialists who can help him to thrive.  And it has been such a tremendous joy to see him thrive!  Every day, his vibrant personality and zeal for life simply amazes me! The fact that he is alive simply amazes me!

But his learning difficulties? His neuro-developmental disabilities? Those are way beyond me.  They defy my ability to understand.  How can I possibly teach him to read, much less to comprehend and apply what he is reading?  How can I help him memorize math facts when numbers make no sense to him? But even more frightening than the academics is the life-skills that are so essential for him to learn.  How can I possibly teach him everything he needs to know to live a productive and independent life some day?  The very thought of it overwhelms and almost paralyzes me.

The Gift

He had been anticipating this special day for weeks, counting down the hours that had crept painfully slow. There were more presents under the tree than he could even count, and, oh, the thrill . . . many of them had his name on the tags!  And now Christmas Day was here at last!  He could barely contain his excitement!

He opened the first one, ripping into the paper, the bow flying off.  It was a . . . a book?  Well, that wasn’t exactly what he was expecting, but Ok, he thought.  A book is good.  I like to read.  And still, there were many more gifts to open.  One by one, he opened the packages.  A skateboard.  A basketball.  A chess set.  And with each present that he opened, his shoulders stooped just a little bit more, and each “thank you” became less and less enthusiastic.  When the last gift had been opened, he looked around in utter disbelief, threw himself onto the floor in a heap, and wailed, “But I wanted an X-Box!”

Poor kid.  He didn’t get the one gift he had hoped for.  The one he had been envisioning.  And all of the other gifts, by comparison, were inferior.  It wasn’t that he was ungrateful.  He just couldn’t help but feel disappointed and heart-broken.  Let down.  His dreams for the perfect gift had been dashed.

I get it.  I’m just like my foster son on that Christmas morning long ago.  My dreams were so big and my expectations were so high.  I had prayed and hoped and anticipated the gift that the Lord was going to give me.  I just knew that what He gave me would exceed my wildest expectations.¹

He gave me a gift, alright.  But it wasn’t the one I was expecting.

Go

We’ve all heard the terrifying statistics:  In our world today, there are an estimated 150 million orphaned children.  These children face more than just loneliness.  They face a future without hope.  They face increased risk of disease, trafficking, malnutrition, and death.

In fact, right now, at this moment, in the 3 seconds that it took us to read those statistics, 3 children have died.  That means that three children are now facing an eternity separated from God, because there was no one to tell them about Jesus.  No one to tell them the good news of salvation and forgiveness at the cross.  No one to show them the love of God.

It’s time for us to wake up!  It’s time for us to take our responsibility seriously to “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.”  (Mark 16:15)  While we are sitting comfortably in our pews listening to nice sermons, while we are hosting nice brunches with the ladies in our church, while we are attending our nice Bible studies and printing our nice brochures and listening to our nice songs, we are completely neglecting God’s purpose for His followers:  to take the good news to the people, including the children, who are lost and dying without Him.

What are we waiting for?  He didn’t say, Go after you are happily married.  Go when your children are grown.  Go when your career is established and when you have your house paid off and when your retirement package is secure.  He doesn’t even say, Go when you have more free time or when you feel better equipped or when you feel more qualified.  He simply says, Go.  It’s a command we have ignored for far too long.

Are We Insane? - Part 1

Honestly?!  Are you insane?  Why would you do such a thing?

The questions sting and they momentarily dampen my enthusiasm, but they are not altogether unexpected.  Not everyone is a huge fan of me and my family and our long-term ministry as foster parents.  It does seem insane.  For those who do not have the passion to provide a safe and loving home for a vulnerable child, it does defy comprehension.  What can I say?

My husband and I have been thinking and praying about taking another “placement” for a few months, and in our human perspective of things, we thought that an elementary-aged child would fit perfectly into our family.  However, when we received “the call” and heard the story of the precious newborn in need of a temporary family, we knew almost immediately that we would say yes.  That she was the one whom the Lord was asking us to love.

His Story

Pausing for just a moment on the busy street corner, she thinks to herself, “How in the world did I get here?  When did my life take such a drastic turn?  This is not at all how I imagined things would turn out.”  It is a busy street corner in a bustling part of the city.  Most of the stores and businesses are preparing to close for the evening, and the sidewalk is crowded with people rushing past on their way home after a long day of work. 

There is really nothing out of the ordinary about the girl, nothing that would give people a reason to notice her.  Just an average teenager standing on the street corner.  Plain face, simple clothing, shoes somewhat worn and dirty.  Nothing unusual except, perhaps, the fact that she is very, very pregnant.

A year ago, if anyone had asked her what she envisioned for her future, her answer would have sounded just like many other teens her age:  get married some day, live a peaceful quiet life with a nice man, have children.  She had been raised in a fine, stable, very religious family, and had always been content and compliant, never giving her parents any trouble at all.

And yet here she stands, young and unmarried, about to have a baby in an unfamiliar city surrounded by no one she knows.  No family members, no doctor or hospital, not even a warm bed somewhere.  She actually has no idea where she will be spending the night.