I am not cut out for this

Some days I'm jealous.

Our foster son has been in our home and our hearts for 365 days. He was 17 days old when we picked him up, and I would be lying if I said these past 17 days haven't been sopping in jealousy.

Reflecting on the days of his life before I knew him has been uniquely joyful and grievous. I wish I could have been there on his birthday, I wish I could have held him close in his first moments and watched him take his first breath. I wish I could have gotten to know him as a brand new baby, and I wish I could have seen the joy on his siblings faces the first time they met him. I know those days were sweet. I know there were a lot of unanswered questions amidst the celebration, but I know the joy stood tall and mighty over the questions and the unknowns. I wish I had been there to celebrate. I'll never have those moments for myself, and the jealousy is sometimes consuming.

Some days I'm frustrated.

Frustrated that it would take so long to provide such a precious child with some type of permanency. Frustrated with a system that still surprises me after so many months of trying to figure it out. Frustrated that so many questions remain unanswered.

Some days I'm fearful.

Because even after being this boy's mommy for a year, I know things could still change at the drop of a hat. I've become what all who utter the words "foster care" fear the most... I've become too attached.

Some days I'm angry. Some days I'm bitter. Some days I'm sad.

Those are the days that I know I'm not cut out for this.

But God...

Melissa Breedlove Photography

God in His grace has called me to this boy and his family. Oh, His love for us in doing just that is incomprehensible.

In His grace and His love He has shown me how I need Him.

How could I be jealous? In my jealousy of baby boy's first 17 days of his life, God has reminded me of the 365 days his mommy has missed. This day holds great joy for our family, but we know that it holds great devastation for his family. That has knocked me on the ground today. The tears have flowed as I've thought about the events that transpired one year ago today to bring him to our home, the emotion and fear that was felt when one mommy walked into a hospital to visit her son, but he wasn't there... How she must envy the year I have spent with him and how much love and grace she has shown me over these twelve months. God, give me that kind of grace toward others.

HOW could I be frustrated? In my frustration, He has reminded me that one year is such a blip in the years ahead for this child. He has reminded me that over this past year I have built friendships that will last a lifetime. I have gotten to know and love this boy's birth family and I have been shown so many times why it's important that this process is not quick. He is not my son, he has a mommy who loves him so very much. She gave birth to him, he has her genes and she deserves time.

How could I be fearful? Too attached?? Can there be such a thing? I've battled those two words every day of this journey. Of course not. You could never become too attached. That's absurd. This baby boy needs attachment, he needs as many people as possible to go all in for him. And for us, going all in means going all in with his birth family as well. How could I fear losing him when I know that these wonderful people I'm blessed to call friends will never be far from my heart or my life. No matter what happens, we are part of this child's life forever.

Angry... Bitter... Sad... yes. Some days I am all of these things. I cry, I rage, I over think....

Melissa Breedlove Photography

...and I praise.
Every day I'm thankful. So thankful that even while I was not cut out for this, He cut me out for this. He shaped my life just so that this precious boy would spend his first night in our home one year ago today. Every day I'm joyful. How could I not be with the smiles and laughter this child has brightened my life with! Every day I'm blessed, so blessed that I was given the opportunity to love this child with all of my heart, to the deepest part of my being, forever and ever.

And what a blessing even the trials have been. They have shaped me, molded me more and more into the image of Christ I was made to bear. I have been shown my sin on a deeper level and been brought to repentance, to love, to grace. I have been shown love on a deeper level, grace on a deeper level. I have been shown Christ through this child and this journey we were given with him.

I hope you will not let fear keep you from taking this journey of growth and grace. If you have ever considered foster care, please, please contact me or someone you know who is a foster parent. You may not be cut out for this, but I can assure you, HE. IS. And with God all things are possible. (Matthew 19:26). You will not regret loving sacrificially, your life will change, you will know God's grace in a way you never have before.

Happy anniversary, Baby Boy. Thank you for loving us, for changing us, for your smile and the laughter you have filled our home with. Thank you for your cheeks, for peekaboo, for sloppy wet kisses. Thank you for your adventurous spirit. Oh, you keep us on our toes, constantly reminding us of the adventure we are on with you, an adventure that has left us awestruck by the grace of an amazing God, that He would choose us to be loved by you for this season. YOU are a true blessing.

Heather.

May I share a story with you?

You know when I get emotional I have to write... and today, I have to write about Heather.

I met Heather when I was the Program Coordinator at a food bank in Mandeville. She happened to come in on my first day of work while I was training for my position with the previous Program Coordinator.

I was told that Heather had suffered multiple strokes and was very hard to understand. Not very many people in the office could communicate with her. In fact, my friend who I was replacing was just about the only one.

Amazingly, that day as I sat with these two women, I understood just about every word that came from Heather's mouth. Over the course of the next two years I got to know Heather more and more. She rarely came in, but when she did she met me with a sweet embrace and was always SUCH a breath of fresh air, sweet medicine for my heart.

"Your hair looks pretty!"
That was her top compliment. She never complained, only complimented, asked about my family, showed me pictures of her three beautiful children, and asked for prayer.

She had such a heart for prayer. I'll never forget the sweet moments that were spent holding Heather's hands and praying to Jesus for her health, her children and for peace in her circumstances.

The more I got to know Heather, the more I learned about her illness. Over the course of the 12 years before I met her she had suffered nine strokes and many seizures. She struggled financially but rarely asked for help. She raised three children who have been successful in school, one will graduate college soon!

Despite her very severe illness and very desperate financial situation, Heather's smile NEVER faded, her gratitude never ceased. I think that's why she so rarely came in, she truly understood that she lacked very little, her selflessness was amazing. She only wanted for her children and she was so very proud of each one of them.

When Mercy's little life began in my belly, Heather was so excited. She and I both knew that this would mean my time at the food bank was coming to an end, but we also knew this didn't mean our relationship would end. Several times after Mercy came, I was able to coordinate our visits, and even got to introduce Mercy to Heather.

Recently I received news that Heather had another stroke and was not doing well. It had probably been close to a year since I had seen her and I was so blessed with the opportunity to visit her in her home with some friends from the food bank.

We walked in and I wept. She was lying on the couch and looked so very frail. She smiled at me and I hugged her and kissed her forehead. She complimented each of us and smiled from ear to ear as I showed her photos of my kids and told her all about them... and then she locked eyes with me and uttered something I could barely understand. She repeated and I knew, I saw a familiar look in her beautiful eyes. She was asking me to pray with her.

What an honor, to sit on the floor by this beautiful soul, grasp her hands in mine, and pray that Jesus would hold her, hold her children. To sit there next to her and praise Him for allowing me to be part of her life and for the work He did on my heart by showing me her precious heart.

Heather died this morning. Her sweet daughter called me minutes after she took her last breath and we wept on the phone together. She has been released from years of suffering into the glory of her Savior, standing as upright as can be and singing His praises clearly and beautifully. Sixteen years of suffering that led to this glorious day of her new life, sixteen years that to her were not seen as years of suffering, but blessed moments that she was able to spend with her loved ones. Sweet moments to share her heart and the love and grace that Jesus offers.

We are grieving, friends, but not as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Heather has shown me what it looks like to find joy and contentment no matter how dyer our circumstances (Philippians 4:12-13) and how to have hope when life looks terribly hopeless. Will you join me in praying for this sweet family today? Will you join me in praying that we may each have a heart like Heather's? A heart that desires to bring joy and love to others no matter what our personal circumstances may look like?

nine months in

This week marks nine months of caring for our foster son.

Nine. Months.

...and it just occurred to me: we have cared for him for as long as she carried him.

Maybe that's why she called this week after so long. Maybe she's grieving, maybe she's missing him a little extra as she sits on the gravity of what happened nine months ago.

Half of his life he was with her more intimately than he will ever be with me. I'll never feel his kicks and hiccups or see my body growing as he grows inside of me. He was perfectly knit together in her womb, life moving through his body with every beat of his heart, each day becoming more and more of who he is today. I'll never see him take his first breath, see the world for the first time or hold him close in those intimate precious moments immediately after his birth. Those moments were reserved for her. She loved him, no, loves him so very much. That has never been in question and never will be. He is perfectly who he is because she is his mom.

Half of his life he's been with me in a way that he will never be with her. He will never be as little tomorrow as he is today. He will never again need to be rocked to sleep as a newborn after his 3am feeding. She will never soothe him and wipe his tears as he cuts his first tooth, or crawl on the floor next to him on his first crawling adventure... the many firsts we've celebrated this year will never be firsts again. He is growing and changing so fast, each day he's becoming more and more of the little boy and man he will be one day.

...and while I'm sitting here wishing he wasn't growing up so fast, how I'll miss these sweet baby days... she is grieving because she has missed all of this. She is grieving because she has missed half of his life and she misses him still.

Nine months ago this precious boy's mommy showed up to the hospital to visit him on his 16th day in this world... and he wasn't there. He was here, with me. And she wept.

This. Is. Devastating.
This is LOSS in its greatest form and it's tragic, friends.

Please remember birth parents in your prayers over foster care. Please remember that foster parents and the children we care for are not the only ones affected by this process and that despite the events and choices that led to these circumstances, there is often deep heartache, remorse and fear. Please pray for healing... for redemption, grace and mercy.

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.
Philippians 1:9-11

the precious mundane

Me - "How can I spend every day with you but miss you so terribly?"
Baby - giggles and grabs my face

Don't let an unexpected medical emergency {no matter how minor} be the tipping point... the kick-in-the-butt reminder to revel in the preciousness of the mundane.

I am SO grateful to be nearing the end of recovering from this event and that my mommy-duties have increased daily... but may I share what has been the hardest part of this ordeal?

Missing them so much when they are here with me every day...

Not being the one squatting the baby to sleep or feeling the inevitable soreness in my legs when he finally rests his eyes.

Not pulling the toddler out of bed when she calls in the morning, "Where are you, mommy?"

Not rubbing butt cream all over the babies bottom when it's red... that's what mommy's do.

Not being at church the first time the two year old left the sanctuary for children's church instead of the nursery. There will only ever be one "first".

Not turning around in the passenger seat to watch their raspberry competitions in the back seat.

Not scooping up and comforting the toddler when she wakes up crying from who knows what.

Not sitting on the floor to practice pulling-up-to-stand with the baby.

Not picking up her fit-throwing self and placing her in time out.

Not crawling around the floor with the baby and big sister when she yells, "'mon mommy!"

Not picking up twenty-two pounds of the sweetest baby on the planet to kiss his cheeks, buckle him in the car, take a family photo, change his diaper, travel the house with his cuteness attached to my hip. My hip misses his frame so very much.

Not squatting down to help her get dressed, put her shoes on, use the potty, play with her toys, pick up her toys.

These mundane parts of everyday life that I didn't even realize... how could I not realize?

They are so precious. Each one is fleeting and so. very. precious.

My heart is heavy for the mommies who have a more difficult road to walk, who would read this and beg for my two-three week recovery over their own journey. Please know that if this is you, we are covering you in prayer as you miss your babies so desperately. I have seen only a glimpse of your path, and my heart weeps for you.

Friends and mommies, please enjoy each moment with your children, please know that each one is a gift. A precious everyday opportunity to love your children by treating the mundane... the diaper changes, the bath times, the school pickups... like a winning lottery ticket.

Watching somebody else do these things for me when I have so longed to do them myself has humbled me and blessed me. My beautiful sister who is a phenomenal aunt has done this job so well, she has celebrated the mundane with her niece and nephew and has opened my eyes to a world of precious mundane moments I've been missing all along. I will miss her SO much!

...but I believe I have four days before I can pick up that twenty-two pound hunk of sweetness and I do not believe I will put him down for days!

And just like that...

Mercy started school last week.

Let me repeat that.

My 2 1/2 pound baby girl walked her 2 1/2 year old self into school last week.

How can this be??

Of course I cried. I did not expect myself to...

...but something about watching her walk into the school with her teacher and not even look back when she waved goodbye... something about that got me.

She's just a big girl now, doing big kid things like all the other two year olds.

I hope I haven't missed a minute.

...and I grieve knowing that I have.

This week, as I lie here recovering from surgery watching my amazing husband and sister take care of these babies who are barely babies anymore has made me terribly aware of how much I've missed.

Sweet baby boy crawled up to my feet and plopped his little bottom down. He looked up at me smiling from ear to ear as if to say, "Here I am!" Oh how I wished I could scoop him up!

Tooth #4 must have made it's appearance when I blinked at some point, he showed me at dinner through his big not-so-gummy grin.

Moments later, I said "no" to my precious Mercy and I broke.

"Help, mommy!"

She was getting out of her chair at the dinner table and I couldn't help with this simple task.

It's amazing how much you realize you've taken for granted when you can't do even the simplest things to help your children. To me, this simple task was a giant. It was a "help, mommy" denied, a moment lost, a chance to meet this one simple need one more time. Before I know it she won't need help getting out of that chair, she'll be bouncing out and running for toys. How many times have I encouraged her to do it on her own because I was busy doing whatever... cooking, dishes, cleaning, eating, texting, being lazy...

How many times has baby boy needed to snuggle and I've not been there to hold him close? How many firsts have I missed because I was looking the other direction? Did I miss his very first crawling step because I was reaching for the camera? Have a noticed every different smile and precious face he has made, knowing that our days together may be numbered? Have I enjoyed every sweet moment shared between he and Mercy, cherishing these days of them being 9 months and 2 1/2 years old?

Tomorrow they'll be older, tomorrow they will be learning new tasks. He'll be walking soon and she'll be reading. The days of carrying him on my hip and reading book after book to her are quickly coming to an end. They will need me less and less and I must hold onto these minutes before I miss one more.

When I broke at the dinner table tonight Mercy saw my tears.

"Ok, mommy?"
"I'm ok, sweetheart."
"A hug, mommy?"
"I would love a hug, baby."
"Ok, I get down and hug you, ok?"
Daddy helped her down, she ran around the table, hugged my neck and whispered in my ear, "ok, mommy. ok."

Oh sweet girl, I promise to stop taking our minutes for granted. I promise to cherish your hugs, your needs, your wants, I promise to hear your voice and treasure each word. I promise to experience every minute with your baby boy like it was our last minute with him, cherishing each one to it's core and creating memories with you both that will last when the minutes pass. I promise to put the dishes and the laundry off when I need to, to put the phone down, turn the computer off, read books, play outside, listen to y'all squeal and giggle and enjoy your raspberry competitions agains each other. I promise to learn to tickle you as laughably as your daddy does, and to sing with you until my voice is gone.

The minutes are passing too quickly and I've missed too many already.
I promise to make our next lifetime of minutes count, sweet babies.

Friends, these days with our little ones are going too fast.  Can we take a break, s l o w down for a minute? When our lives are spinning let's be available to each other with gentle reminders to pace ourselves. Let's commit to praying for each other and holding each other up in our parenting journeys, to loving each other and not judging. Let's make a commitment to encouragement and let's appreciate the minutes we have before they are gone.

This is why: Because I'm a Broken Mama

Our journey through foster care has been refining and revealing of so many 'heart deficits.' The further we get into this the more clearly we understand the risk we have taken in loving a child who may leave us one day.... and the more clearly we understand why God has asked us to.

My hope when we originally sought foster certification was to grow our family by adopting a child through foster care. I believe fully that if the Lord allows it this may happen one day with one or more future foster children, however, adoption is no longer the reason we're doing this. Foster care is the reason we're doing this. Foster children are the reason we're doing this. Birth families are the reason we're doing this. Broken families, broken hearts, broken lives, grace, LOVE, redemption... that's why we're doing this.

The families and children affected by our foster child's situation have molded our experience and changed our hearts. These people matter. Their hearts matter, their sadness and brokenness matters. Baby boy's heart matters and his sweet mama's heart matters too.

When we as a community of believers say that we can't do this because we could never love a child who may leave us one day, we're not only saying "no" to the children in foster care, but we're saying "no" to their mamas and daddies who need to be loved and prayed for with the same fervency as their children... to the brothers and sisters who grieve for their siblings who are growing up without them... 

These are people who need grace and healing just as much as you and I do. These are broken people. And I'm a broken person, a broken mama.

If this foster care journey has taught me anything, it's that.
I. Am. Broken.
I. Need. Jesus.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me."

Folks, Jesus is the only way we can do this. His grace, so amazing, poured down on this wretched heart of mine, rescuing me from a pit I didn't even know I was in. Grabbing my heart held hostage by sin, cleansing it with His blood, making it His own, revealing the needs of the world and His children to me, to us as His children, burdening our hearts for these families who are as broken as I am, held hostage by their own sins that may look different from mine but are no different to our great God, using this heart that He has cleansed to reveal His cleansing grace to families who are grieving and need to feel His presence.

When we got into this I never imagined falling in love with the families of our potential foster children. How blessed I am to have one specific person on this journey to remind me how important love is. How much beauty and grace and preciousness I would have missed out on if I had closed the door on loving these people we have grown so close to.

How much truth I would have missed out on. Truth about myself, the condition of my heart, my need for healing, the piecing together of the brokenness that I wasn't even aware of. Self-righteousness, ugliness, and the filthy selfish desire for my own fulfillment despite the pain of others.

This is not about gaining a child for our family, this is about gaining a family for our family. This is about sharing our hearts with families in crisis and building relationships, sharing grace, sharing Jesus. Ten years down the road if we have one twelve year old daughter and a network of families who we have loved, witnessed reunification, seen the grace of God work through our little family, and are able to maintain those relationships and encourage and point towards Christ, I believe we will have done just what the Lord has asked us to do. I believe we will have experienced the greatest grief and most beautiful joy simultaneously and I believe it will have been worth it. I believe our hearts will have broken and been mended time and time again by our great Physician, more and more pieces put together with every child we care for, showing us who He desires us to be and how He desires us to love.

Friends, will you pray for these families with us? The mamas and daddies, brothers and sisters, grandparents, each heart involved these children's lives, that they will find the healing and peace that only Jesus Christ can give, that they would experience His presence each moment of each day and that they will know without question how very loved they are. And will you pray for my heart and your heart too? That we will recognize our brokenness, our need for healing, peace and the experience of God's presence daily. That our hearts would be broken for families in crisis and would be moved to do whatever God would ask us to do, even if that means risking our own hearts so that families can grow stronger, know Jesus and raise their children to do the same.


**This post is part of a series of posts aiming to answer the question, "Why did you choose foster care?" If any of these words or these posts spark an interest in your heart to consider foster parenting, please contact me or visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

This is why: Their hearts matters

"Guard your heart," they said.

I almost bought into it too...

...and I understand where they're coming from.

Protect my heart. It's the only way. Love half-way so that my heart can't break. If I don't let myself love this guy with all the love in my heart, there is less of a chance that I'll hurt in the end.

I know they're just worried about us, worried that our hearts will break. They love us, they don't want to see us in pain.

This little man who we have fallen so deep for... To think about him leaving... is heart breaking to say the least. How can I keep myself from feeling pain and mourning for a lifetime when he's gone? Simple: I can't... not happening.

The risk we take in foster care is falling in love with a child who may leave our home one day...

Yes... scary, heart breaking, risky... so risky that some of us close our eyes to the realities that children are facing in our communities... Sometimes I feel like the risk to our hearts is so much that we've forgotten the hearts of those who are truly at risk in these situations....

The hearts of the babies, children, and teenagers in the system who have been neglected, beaten, broken down and... forgotten about.

Forgotten about by everyone they've ever cared about, and forgotten about by those of us who say we can't take care of them, "it's too risky, we would love them too much, get too attached."

Guess what, friends who would love them too much, these kiddos need YOU. These kids need somebody to get too attached, someone who's heart would break for them. Do you know that many of the children in foster care have never experienced someone loving them that much? Someone loving them so sacrificially that they would risk their heart breaking just so they could pour too much love into their hearts?

We must remember the hearts of these kids. Their hearts matter.
Maybe even more than our's...? Definitely in a different capacity than our's.

This, friends, is a heart issue. And a big one.

We know our hearts matter, of course they matter... but let's not worry about our own hearts. Our hearts are filled with the love of family, friends, our Savior and Creator, and our love for each other. If our hearts break, it looks like we've got a pretty awesome support system waiting to take care of us and love us through the pain.

We must refuse to go half-in for these children, and their families, who may have little to no support system, and we must refuse to leave them in the hands of families who will not love them too much (read this and this and let your anger move you to action in our community!)

As a community of believers, will we choose to give these children only some of our hearts so that the rest of our hearts won't feel pain..? Or will we go all in for them?

Give 100%, friends. These children need every ounce of love in our hearts to be there for them now, and even when they leave. They need us to be family who will mourn for them and miss them every day for the rest of our lives. If these kids leave their foster homes and one day find themselves in a dark place and a sad environment, they need to know we loved them so much that twenty years later, we're still praying for them and loving them.

I am SO blessed to have a close friend and former foster mama model this for me. Just last week she showed me photos of her foster son who is a grown man now, who still calls her "mom" and calls when he needs her love. And she still prays for him, all these years later.

While I understand the concern, I urge you to be less concerned for our hearts and more concerned for the hearts of these children in foster care. If our precious foster son goes home tomorrow, each of these 181 days we've loved him will be worth every ounce of pain we will experience from losing him. We would do it one hundred times over.

Can I take a minute to relate this sacrificial love to all of us?

How sad would our lives be if we held back on loving people because of the risk we take in losing them. Isn't this a risk in all our relationships? Are we promised tomorrow with any of our loved ones?

When Mercy came ten weeks early and Chris was told that she might not make it through the night, did we decide to guard our hearts in case we lost her? NO. We went ALL. IN. More in than ever, loved her more than we knew how, cherished all of our seconds with her knowing there may not be as many as we hoped. She needed us more in those days than ever. This baby boy needs our whole hearts, not the guarded versions. He needs us to love him too much today, and I think we need him too.

I think we need him so we can better understand our heavenly Father's all-in love for us.

What if He held back on loving us because of this same risk, or because He feared becoming too attached and losing us?

What if the fear of us turning away from Him stopped Him from sending Jesus here to rescue us?

What if He guarded His heart when we were at our worst, in our deepest need of Him?

"We love because He first loved us."
1 John 4:19

Oh, and He loved us so much, friends. SO much more than you and I could ever deserve or even begin to understand. There's no {worldy} sense in it, yet there was never a second thought. Only love. All-in love for a bunch of broken, hurt, damaged hearts who would turn and fight and walk away. That's me and that's you. Let's offer the love He has shown us to those He has put in our care. Let's be more concerned for their hearts and less concerned for our own.

For God called you to do good, even if it means suffering, just as Christ suffered for you. He is your example, and you must follow in his steps.
1 Peter 2:21 (NLT)


**This post is part of a series of posts aiming to answer the question, "Why did you choose foster care?" If any of these words or these posts spark an interest in your heart to consider foster parenting, please contact me or visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

This Is Why: We Have Room

Why did we choose foster care?

Another simple answer...

We. 
Have. 
Room.

When we moved to Louisiana seven years ago I accepted a job at a state funded group home. I worked there for nine months... Those nine months were absolutely life changing. They were my first real exposure to the world of foster care and the children in the system. We cared for children from about eleven to seventeen. Traumatized, hurt, angry, damaged by the things they had experienced in their lives so far. Longing for love, but understandably guarded. When they allowed me to love them, that was the greatest of privileges. These kids changed me. Completely. And I'm SO blessed to have been able to keep in touch with several of them who have continued to let me love them and have loved me back in a way that humbles me and brings big weepy tears to my eyes.

I want to share an experience with you... One single day at work that changed our lives and our future for good.

Christmas day, 2008. Chris came to work with me, there were eight kids who had nowhere to go on Christmas. No family, no aunts, grandparents, no mama or daddy, no willing previous foster home... nobody.

I look back on that day, on the tears, the fighting... there were TONS of gifts that had been donated, and I wondered for a moment why these kids were so ungrateful... they threw things, they yelled, the color wasn't right, it wasn't the brand they hoped for... didn't they realize they were getting gifts?? From strangers who cared about them?

I quickly realized where the grief poured from.. while their friends from school were in their homes opening gifts from their mama and grandmama, they were in an institution opening handouts from strangers...

Christmas. Day.

These eight children very literally had nobody.
...and did I mention it was Christmas?? Nobody should have nobody on Christmas!

Chris and I went home that night with a new understanding of the calling the Lord was placing on our lives. We walked into our three bedroom home and we knew.

These kids needed somewhere to go, someone to love them on Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, weekends, Thursdays, Mondays, every day, every hour and every minute.

And we had room.

When I left my job several months later we quickly sought foster certification. For the next several years until our daughter was born we welcomed these teenagers from group homes into our life and our home on holidays and weekends and whenever we could. We cooked with them, prayed with them, had family dinners, watched movies, opened gifts, played games, LOVED with every ounce of our hearts because these kids are SO lovable. We loved each one who spent time with us and we will love them forever.

Each of these moments were gifts from the God who called us and prepared us. I will never forget some of the experiences we shared with these precious ones and how He used them to mold me into who I am today. They showed me that not only did I have room in my home, I had even more room in my heart.

And even after Mercy came into our lives and filled our hearts so full, those sweet ones who have kept in touch continued to remind me of how much room there was to love, and even one more little heart ready to share her love with the world.

As Mercy grew over the course of that first year, I would walk into that empty bedroom and just wonder who would fill it. I often prayed for our future foster children in those moments, not knowing if they had been born yet or when we would meet them. I prayed that our hearts would be prepared, I prayed for their safety, their hearts, I prayed for their parents and I thanked God for giving us room to grow our family, even if only temporarily, through these precious little ones in foster care.

Three bedrooms, still only two were occupied.

Three hearts, so roomy and so ready to love.

...and friends, that's about as simple as it gets.
We have room, so we said yes.

And oh how very blessed we have been by saying yes to this sweet little man who has filled our home and our hearts over the last five months!

Do you have room? ...in your home? ...in your heart?
If you have some empty space, will you commit to praying that the Lord show you ways to fill it that will honor Him? It may not look like foster care, adoption or respite care, but if it does please continue to pray, contact me or other foster parents and organizations in your area, seek information and pray. Don't. Stop. Praying.


**This post is part of a series of posts aiming to answer the question, "Why did you choose foster care?" If any of these words or these posts spark an interest in your heart to consider foster parenting, please contact me or visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

This Is Why: Because He Said Yes

Foster care...

Why did we say yes to foster care?

Here's the simple answer to a not so simple question:

We said "Yes!" because He said "YES!"

I mentioned in the previous post the condition of my heart being revealed hard and fast... it's ugly. As filthy and murky as can be.

So, question... have you ever found yourself thinking you've learned it all, not much growing left to do, conquered your toughest sins...? I've heard others say it and I've felt it myself, even when I didn't realize it... the belief that we've overcome our greatest sins and the only thing we need to work on is the small stuff... I gossip here and there, sometimes I worry a little, I was short with my husband the other day, I should be a little more patient with the kids...

Oh, how deeply sinful to have even considered this... The small stuff?? Is the gossip on a different level than the selfish desire for my own happiness over other's? Is worrying here and there any better than the intense distrust in the Savior's plan for my family and our foster son's family? Is the impatience less to my God than the deeply rooted hatefulness that I have begun to recognize in myself as I have grown to love the children and teenagers in foster care over the last several years? Have any of us really ever been 'over' the need for growth and the cleansing of our hearts??

This filthy, murky heart... How could anyone love it? How could anyone desire it? How could anyone sacrifice Himself in order to make this heart His own?

I don't know how, I don't know why... I know that when this girl with her ugly heart was an orphan of this world, He said, "YES!"

"You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Romans 5:6-8

At just the right time, while I was still a sinner, AM still a sinner.
Christ died for ME!

He said yes! He changed everything! My status, my family, my future. He promised me His own inheritance, and an eternal home with HIM! (See Adoption: An Easter Story for teaching on these specific topics)

"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!"
1 John 3:1a

Children of God. No. Longer. Orphans.

And what does He ask of us?

To live a life of gratitude, to walk in His footsteps (1 John 2:6)... pick up our cross and follow Him (Luke 9:23&24). How could we say no when He prompted our hearts to care for these children in the foster care system?

He stepped in when our futures were hopeless. We must step in for these, His, children and their families when their own futures are uncertain at best.

We MUST be willing to hurt, to cry, to sacrifice ourselves for the least of these and pray for victory in the lives of all involved.

And believe me, I cry. I just finished wiping my messy, ugly tears a minute ago...

But after I cry and after the fear in my frightened heart subsides, I have to smile. I know this pain means beauty, celebration for a mama who has hurt far worse than me.

Victory, friends. Has there ever been a greater victory than the cross? The moment we became children of the most high God?

Never.

The moment this baby is united forever with his mama and daddy and they begin a new and beautiful life together... That will be a glimpse of the victory we were given on the cross, a glimpse that will grow my gratitude and my understanding of my own reunification with my Father, a glimpse that will leave me changed. Forever.

We must choose victory. He chose it for us and we must choose it for these families in the foster care system.

We said "Yes" because He said "Yes," friends.

Has the Lord prompted your heart to care for His children? Will you pray about saying "Yes" to His call?

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us.
Ephesians 1:3-8


**This post is part of a series of posts aiming to answer the question, "Why did you choose foster care?" If any of these words or these posts spark an interest in your heart to consider foster parenting, please contact me or visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

This Is Why: an introduction

Several months ago, before our foster son ever filled our home and our hearts, I began writing a series of blog posts that would attempt to answer one simple question:

Why?

What I have learned on this journey so far is just how simple this question is NOT.

After we became certified last October and even after baby boy arrived in December, I couldn't even answer that question for myself. I thought I could, but I was wrong. Only after the INTENSE work the Lord has done on my heart can I even begin to answer that "simple" question.

There have been a lot of emotions over the last four months that I hope to write about one day. Looking back on the posts I began writing all those months ago... my heart was in an ugly place. I know the Lord put the brakes on those posts. I wasn't ready. I was in an emotional, bitter and frightened place.

And, if I'm honest... many days I'm still in that place. The difference between then and now is the clarity I've received, my eyes being opened WIDE to the condition of my heart and the sanctifying and refining work that has begun. I didn't even know, I was blind...

But now... I think I'm ready to begin mulling through the reasons we said "YES!" to foster care.

I think this series will be a continual work in progress as I'm still growing and learning daily about the reasons we have been chosen for this journey.

I think the question "Why?" means something different for every person who asks us.

For some, it's "Why risk your heart?"

For others it's "Why now?"

"Why not domestic newborn adoption? International adoption?" "Why put your daughter through that?" "Your family will change so much, why jump out of a perfectly good airplane?" "Why the added stress? You know how 'those kids' can be." "Why not try for more of your own first? Then decide if you want somebody else's later, when yours are grown."

Oh... so many questions. I know a lot of this is curiosity, a lot of it is a lack of understanding of who foster kids are and what the system is like. Maybe this series will give you some clarity, maybe it will give me some clarity. Maybe it will spark an interest that has been hiding in your heart to consider foster parenting...

I certainly don't mind answering questions...

But before I start, let me go ahead and let you know what this series will not do:

This series will not be specific to our current foster situation. I will draw from this experience and our past respite and group home experience, but every situation is different, and I will not share specifics about our foster son, his parents, why he is in care, etc. It's their story only. Please respect the individuals involved in this journey and just. don't. ask.

This series will not aim to guilt you into considering foster care or adoption. We know this is a calling that not everybody has been given. While we firmly believe each and every one of us has been called to care for orphans, we know there are many many faces of orphan care, this is only one. And even in the world of foster care there are many faces of orphan care that don't involve bringing a child into your home temporarily or long term. I would LOVE to share these options, and will dedicate a post to these other options very soon!

So... with these things in mind and with my emotions and brain in a some type of "readiness" mode, welcome to the "This Is Why" series! I hope it answers some questions for ALL of us.



**This post is part of a series of posts aiming to answer the question, "Why did you choose foster care?" If any of these words or these posts spark an interest in your heart to consider foster parenting, please contact me or visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

To the mama working hard to take this child from me...

Dear Mama,

Yesterday you told me that you love us... and there are a few things I need to ask you.

Do you know how much I love your son? No. You couldn't possibly.

Do you know that I relish in his sweet baby scent?

Do you know I look forward to our 3am snuggles, even more so as they're happening less and less?

Do you know how deeply the sound of his sweet cries and coos have filled my heart? It's overflowing!

Do you know that I celebrate his milestones like he's winning gold medals?

Do you know that I smother him with kisses every day, asking him to store them in his chubby cheeks for the days that he's with you?

Do you know that I weep?

I weep when I kiss his cheeks. I weep when I tell him I love him. I weep when I hear about your success. And I weep simply because I'm weeping.

I want you to know that I have given this boy my heart. I have not held back or guarded my love as I've cared for him. I have bonded with him deeply, and his sweet smile melts my heart every time as I fall deeper and deeper for him. When he goes home to you, whenever that day comes, my beating heart will stop for a brief moment as I process the loss of your son who I have loved. I will spend weeks and months picking up broken pieces of who I was when he was in my arms. I will think about him every minute and miss him for the rest of my life. I will never stop loving him.

This... loving your son while you work so hard to bring him home... This is not easy.

Mama, I want you to know that you're worth it. I need you to know that I'm on your team. I support you and I pray daily for your success.

I didn't always feel that way. There have been days that I've been angry, days that I've begged for this child to stay in our home and become our son... and I think I've figured out that I'm afraid of you, of the threat you carry to break up this family of four that I've grown to love so much. I understand now what that means for you. I understand that means great loss for you, that my desire for this sweet boy to be mine comes at the detriment of your success, your health.

My pain is merely a glimpse of the pain you have experienced these three months as a stranger has cared for your son.  I can't understand, I will never know what you've been through and I would never claim to. 

But I imagine you have a letter with a similar title, though it is written to the mama who took your son. I imagine the content is very different, I imagine your heart aches to depths mine can't even fathom.

I couldn't possibly know how much love you have in your heart for this precious boy you carried and nurtured for nine months...

...but I know you would trade your rest for the sleepless nights of snuggling this snuggle-bug.

I know you would trade your peaceful quiet for the cries and coos that this little man has brought to our home. 

I know you would do anything, and you ARE, to have his sweet baby scent fill your rooms.

I know that when I celebrate his milestones, you are mourning because you're not here for them.

I know that when I kiss his cheeks, you are far away longing for the opportunity to smother his sweet face with kisses.

I know that you weep. I've seen you weep.

And I weep for you...

I have come to love that this baby boy has your face. When I look at him, I see you. When I pray for him, I'm praying for you. When I celebrate his milestones, I'm also celebrating yours. When I'm filled with pride for him, I am so very proud of you. And when I love him, I'm loving you, too.

Yesterday you told me that you love us.

I cried.

We love you too, Mama.

There is NO grey in HOPE

Five years ago I sat in a courtroom and basically begged a judge not to put me on a jury for a child pornography case. He asked if I could make an unbiased decision about the guilt of the man sitting before me. I said no. I've know too many young children, aged 2 to 16, who have been violently raped and abused. I knew I couldn't look at this man with unbiased eyes. After I was chosen and sat with a group of men and women in the deliberation room, several of them remarked that they couldn't believe I was picked having been so honest about my history with children exposed to sexual violence. Whatever... I was chosen. And I swear I would have sat in that deliberation room for months with those two dummies who claimed this man was not guilty beyond reasonable doubt. I could never let my mind stop assuming they too were perpetrators. Why else would they fight so hard for this man who was CLEARLY guilty? Thankfully, we needed ten out twelve guilty's and we had that. So. Guilty he was. One day of my life very well spent putting a child sex offender behind bars. I left and thought I was done. Ugh. I wasn't done. I'm still not done with that stupid case. I still remember his face, it'll never go away. I remember his name, sometimes I hear his last name and wonder if it's a relative and if they have similar habits. I find it hard not to judge them based solely on their last name. I know that's wrong, but I can't stop my mind from going there... Even worse are the images that have haunted me since that day. The videos and photos they found on his computer. Why did they show us?? I know why... but really, WHY? They are still as vivid as they were in plain view on the screen in front of us. I don't always see them, but every now and then something reminds me and I see them. Those girls, objects of violent sexual abuse, exposed for the world to see, horrendous things being done to them that you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.... and I weep for them, and I wish I could forget, but I know that I won't. I can't. Before I saw them I didn't know. I didn't know their faces or how to pray for their safety. I didn't want to believe it was really happening, but it is. I can't deny it and turn a blind eye anymore. I've seen it, and I'm changed because of it.

...and I think that's why this whole Fifty Shades of Grey thing is really getting to me. I've read all the blogs about why we shouldn't read these books or see this movie... God, our husbands, ourselves... And I get it, and I won't read the books or see the movie for those reasons and I'll share those blogs because they're awesome. But something else has been nagging at me that those blogs aren't writing about...

It's that girl. One specifically, I can close my eyes and see her frightened face. She must have been 8 or 9 years old. She did not choose to be tied up, a victim of the sadist who held her hostage and did unthinkable things to her. She didn't ask for her body to be displayed for the pleasure of perverse men and women around the globe, she was just a little girl... who's childhood and innocence were stolen from her for perverse pleasure and a quick penny. Who's life, even after rescue, will never be the same due to the violence she has endured.

This was a child under the control of a sadist, a person who has the condition of sadism, in which one receives sexual gratification from causing pain and degradation to another (dictionary.com).

And she's not alone. She's just one of hundreds of thousands of women who have been trafficked and sold into sex slavery and are held hostage today by sadists in your city and around the globe and about another 300,000 a year who have been victims of sexual assault. This is not ok. This is not a light subject matter for us to find interesting and intriguing and seek pleasure from. These women need a voice. OUR voice.

So friends, please, before you take part in this lunacy, I beg you to reconsider. If not for God or your husband or yourself, please reconsider for your sisters... the women and children around the globe who have been sold into sex slavery and are subject to the very same sexual violence enacted by the sadist in this film. Please don't make light of the circumstances they did not choose for themselves. Please don't normalize sexual brutality. And please, PLEASE don't give financially to the promotion and glorification of this violent behavior.

Instead, I challenge you to make a sacrifice for hope. Maybe you read the books and have been highly anticipating the movie. Maybe you've seen the previews and are considering buying the books before you see the movie. Make the sacrifice. Just. Don't. Do. It. It won't be worth it, you won't forget what you've seen, it'll affect you in ways you don't even realize, but don't make this sacrifice for yourself. Make if for your sisters who are in sex slavery right now, probably in your own city. I'll be donating the $12 I won't be spending on the film and the $28 I won't be spending on the books to a local home that offers hope and healing to young women who have been rescued from sex slavery. I encourage you to look into local options or global campaigns such as Not For Sale and sacrifice the money you would have given to this promotion of sexual violence to ENDING sexual violence. If we stand together against this evil, we can make a difference. Let's fight for the rights of these women and children who's innocence and lives have been stolen by men like Christian Grey and by communities like those who worship him.

Don't allow this garbage any space in your brain. Combat it with truth:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.
Romans 12:1-2

Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name. Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.
Hebrews 3:15-16

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.
Philippians 4:8


Here's a quick list of organizations serving sexually exploited women and children, and victims of sexual assault, there are links to donate right on the home pages:
For my Georgia folks: Rape Response
South Louisiana: Free Indeed Home
Global: Not For Sale

Know of an organization I need to add to this list? Let me know in the comments and I'll add it. I'd love to see this list grow and show the colors of hope for these women around the world.

You're two. Stop growing.

I read this CaringBridge entry a couple of days ago. It was written the evening of the day we left the hospital, coming home empty handed while our brand new baby girl slept in an incubator 15 minutes away with tubes down her throat...

This is her in those days:

And this is her almost two weeks ago, on her SECOND birthday:

Being the most sentimental person alive, you can imagine what these last few weeks have been like in my head...

But with the craze of Christmas, family visits and adding another child to our family all within one month of this girl's big day, I haven't had the opportunity to sit down and write about it... So. Both babies are sleeping, and this is my chance... Enjoy my mushy gushy sentiment, world!

Sweet TWO year old Mercy,

Ugh. I'm already crying.

Where do I even start? Watching you grow has made me grow, seeing bits of your precious personality emerge over the course of the last two years has been one of the best adventures of my life. Every day we see new little quirks and pieces of who you are now and who you are becoming. The journey we have been on with you has been more blessed than I could ever have imagined.

One of your nurses in the NICU told us a story one afternoon your daddy and I were visiting. She told us about how you FLIPPED your three pound little body over all on your own. She watched you do it. You were on your belly and you just stretched one of your little legs and somehow turned yourself over. You knew what you wanted.... That's what she told us that day. You know what you want... and you're gonna get it.

When I look at that picture of you in the NICU I don't even see a glimpse of who you are today, physically speaking... but when I remember those little bits of your personality coming out even in those teensy tiny days, I see so much of you. Girl, you KNOW what you want. In this house, that doesn't mean you're always gonna get what you want, but just like in the days of flipping yourself over and extubating yourself in your isolette, you have a strong opinion about what is right for you, and you are going to do your best to get it. That includes the sweetest, most pitiful crocodile tears, hugs, kisses, belly laughs, and the occasional tantrum.... Oh, you try your hardest, don't you? The best part is seeing your understanding grow. On one hand you know what you want, and on the other hand you trust your daddy and I very much to know what's right... and THAT is the greatest compliment.

I remember another day we visited you. As we approached your isolette, we just started giggling. You had wiggled your way completely off of the rolled up blanket keeping you in place. You were tucked all the way at the end of your little bed and as comfortable as ever. We used to just watch you wiggle and kick your little legs. You were so active even when you were so tiny. When we brought you home and would snuggle with you on the couch, you always found a way to wiggle your little body in the strangest positions. Always moving...

...and you're still always moving! My very favorite thing you do right now is run through the house yelling over and over, "I'm running! I'm running! I'm running!" Oh my goodness, I hope you still do that when you're 16. Please never stop dancing in the living room and spinning in circles in the kitchen, don't ever stop wiggling your little booty in the air when you're sound asleep. Don't grow out of peekaboo and eskimo kisses, the most adorable hide and seek I've ever played or singing Ariel and Scuttle ALL. DAY. LONG.

Watching you become YOU has been such a privilege. Seeing bits of me in you has made my heart complete. Watching you fearlessly reach for worms, frogs and lizards makes my heart happier than you'll ever know! Snuggling on the couch for some Disney classics is one of your very favorite things, and mine too, can we snuggle all day in front of the Lion King, The Little Mermaid and Aladdin for the rest of our lives? Please? I love when your hands get dirty and you stop what you're doing to stare at them. You stare at them in completely still silence until somebody cleans them or gives you something to clean them with. Girl, you get that from me. And I'm sorry for that one... but I also love it a little. ;)

Seeing bits of your daddy in you makes me fall in love with both of you more and more every day. Watching you sit on his lap and watch hours of football brings so much joy to my heart. You know a Clemson Tiger Paw and a Saints Fleur de Lis from a mile away, and your daddy couldn't be prouder. The joy in your eyes when you discovered your football decorated birthday party was too much. Your passion, endless energy, remarkable memory, attention to detail, you are your daddy's girl in so many ways.

I know the Lord is molding you into His image daily. Your two year old personality is just a tiny glimpse of who you are becoming, and that makes me so excited to know the woman you will be one day. Some of these things you got from us... your love of critters, mermaids, football... Even more fun has been seeing little bits of YOU come out. Pieces of the little girl He is growing you into.  YOU have so much love in your heart and such a desire to share that love and serve your friends and family in the sweetest two year old ways. Whether it's consoling your baby brother by bringing him your favorite toys, recognizing when any of us are upset and giving us the sweetest hugs and pats on the back, sharing your toys and presents with friends who visit, or the level of deep sadness you feel when anyone you love leaves our home, you are always sharing your heart and that is one of your most precious attributes.

You're getting so big, and even though I have banished the phrase "I can't wait" from my vocabulary, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to see how you'll grow and what you'll be like a year from now. Each stage has been more fun and amazing than the last. I can't imagine life being more awesome than it is today, but I'm looking forward to seeing what this next year has in store for our little family of four! Thank you, my sweet Mercy girl, for physically defining what mercy is in your first days and continually reminding us of the grace we've been given in getting to be your mommy and daddy. We couldn't be more blessed and we couldn't love you more.

But for now, let's go ahead and stay two forever, ok?

Thanks. Love you.
--Your Mommy