Best Interest of the Child

I have recently been pondering some things as I chat with foster Mama friends and hear out their often repeated frustrations.  Bear with me as I try to make sense out of these rattling thoughts.

"Best interest of the child" is a statement that gets tossed around child welfare circles a lot. Whether it is actually considered or not is debatable in any given situation. Words and actions are two entirely different things.

I have recently realized that I dislike this statement quite a lot. This is odd to acknowledge because everything in me cries out for justice and well being for these vulnerable little ones. I live and breath "best interest of the child" in my home on a daily basis. I have dedicated years of my life to this cause.
The problem with this stated policy is that it's entirely subjective. I've noticed over the years that everyone and their dog has a different idea of what this is. "Best interest" is filtered through various political agendas, worldviews/ideologies, social engineering ideas, individual professional aspirations, public relations (whats socially trendy) and is very hard to peg down. "Best interest of the child" is plastered on policies that swing wildly between harmful extremes always cloaked in a sort of high browed idealism that ignores so much reality on the ground.

While everyone agrees that the best interest of the child should be paramount when making decisions affecting children, no one seems to be able to agree on what that is.

Maybe we need to possess better, more specific, language to nail down some priorities within our child welfare and foster systems.

We foster parented for 10 yrs and in that time I saw and experienced a lot. Although not as much as some.  Each fostering journey is unique and comes with its own stories and heartaches. One thing all foster parents have in common is their compulsion to silence. The very real threat of children you love being taken from your home, or the doors of your home being shut for saying the wrong thing or crossing the wrong people is enough for us to keep our heads down.

Sure there are some fostering blogs out there but they weren't common a few years ago and even now they are fairly rare. They are often anonymous and usually very careful. Where foster parent voices and perspectives aren't usually found is in social services offices planning policy, case plan meetings, or being amplified with media attention. With hushed voices we share our burdens behind closed doors with selectively few people.

Foster parents are on the front lines, along with caseworkers, but they have the vantage point of being parents. They parent. That's what they do. They aren't babysitters. They are caregivers who parent children, some for short amounts of time and some for a lifetime. Foster parents are waking for midnight feedings, bandaging skinned knees, calming nightmares, comforting grieving and traumatized children, combing (and delousing) hair, going to school plays and taking children to their dance lessons. They take children to visitation and then come home to put into practice all they know about therapeutic parenting to try to calm the rage ignited in a devastated and confused child. They love, nurture, tend and train the children in their home.

They know stuff. They may be left in the dark about many things surrounding the history and case plan, but they know these kids. They may have known the child in their care since birth as was the case with most of my foster babes. They likely know the kids better than anyone else involved with the case.

Here's what "best interest of a child" means to a foster parent.

* In any given situation what will cause the LEAST amount of trauma to this child *

That's pretty much it. That's what we care about the most. Most foster parents have become well versed in issues of trauma, attachment and the basics of child psychology. We have to be to be any good at what we do. A huge frustration is that too often the people sitting in offices, the managers, supervisors, and directors seem to be light years behind in that area.

"They won't remember it anyway"

"A child gets used to being moved"

Statements like these make me rage internally. Often people directing priorities and policy don't see the damage that ill-conceived ideas and bad decisions create. They aren't the ones parenting children with Reactive Attachment disorders caused by frequent moves in the first years of a child's life. They aren't the ones dealing with the terror that comes with PTSD, anxiety disorders or intense fear of abandonment caused by a loss of caregivers. They don't have to put on a game face and gently reassure a terrified child that going to live with strangers will be ok, when you have very real fears of your own that they will not be ok. The hardest thing about fosterparenting is witnessing or knowing a child will go through grief and experience trauma. No parents wants their child to suffer. Foster parents feel no differently.

If people in offices experienced these things they might view "best interest of the child" differently. Perhaps if they better understood the devastating, long term, effects of trauma it would have greater consideration in decision making.

Of course we don't work in ideals and there is no trauma free fostercare. The very need for it arises out of suffering, brokenness, abuse, death, violence, addictions, and illness....all of the worst things in this world are the foundation. A preborn baby being fed a steady diet of drugs and alcohol is trauma. A preborn child being immersed in constant stress hormones of its mother who is a victim of domestic violence is trauma. Being separated from a birth parent is trauma, even if the child is too young to consciously remember.  It's there. A newborn withdrawing from drugs is trauma. Some of those things are unavoidable but once a child has been placed in care great consideration should be given to not perpetuating trauma, creating more chaos, or causing more damage.

Broken children, who become broken adults, are no small problem and will pay society back in full for it's failure to protect them.

There are many other worthwhile considerations when making case plans and deciding what is best for a child, however, this is at the top for me. I'm convinced that this is the priority that every other factor should be filtered through and weighed against.

If we truly believed in "best interest of the child" we would be far more focused on the long lasting effects of trauma and issues surrounding attachment. I think we would save children and society a whole a world of hurt.

Why I care about Fostercare

It has come to my attention that May has been designated by someone, somewhere, as "National Fostercare Awareness Month". This seems like as good a reason as any to dust off this old platform and try to string together some coherent thoughts.

You might be thinking something like  "Why should I care about kids in fostercare?  They aren't my kids. I'm looking after my own kids. They're not my problem."

On one level that would be correct. Kids in the system aren't my kids. I didn't conceive or give birth to them. I'm not legally responsible for their well being or obligated to care for them. Here are a few reasons why I chose to ignore those facts.

1.  Love compels me, Jesus commands me. 

"For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself" Galatians 5:14

"Love your neighbor as yourself" is also found in Matthew 5:43, Matthew 19:19, Matthew 22: 39, Mark 12:3, Romans 13:9, Luke 10:27, Leviticus 19:18, and James 2:8.

I'm assuming this is really important since it is repeated so often. We are called to love and care for those within our reach. Kids in fostercare are part of our communities, they live in our cities. They are our neighbors. Not only that, they are the vulnerable, the marginalized, the outcast, the fatherless, and the "orphan" that the Bible regularly exhorts us to seek justice for.

I have been loved extravagantly and sacrificially by a God who willingly plunged himself into the muck and the mess of this sin mangled world. I have been neighbored by Jesus. He doesn't ask us to do anything that he has not already done first.

2. When vulnerable children are not cared for our whole society suffers. 

According to every statistic I've ever read kids aging out of foster care, or who have been bounced around the system for years, are at a phenomenally higher risk of every social ill we can think of.  Criminality, incarceration, homelessness, dependency, addictions, violence, mental illness, being victimized, and sex trafficking. This is not because something is inherently wrong with the children but rather because they have been denied the things they needed to become fully functional, healthy adults.

I'll share with you one tangible, close to home, example of the high social cost of failing children. A child who was born into a broken family filled with abuse and alcoholism spent the remainder of his childhood in about 25 different foster homes. He was failed by everyone. His most basic needs for attachment, nurture, security, safety, and love weren't met. Unsurprisingly he eventually turned to gangs, crime and violence. While out on probation he took the life of another man; someone's father, son, and brother. An entire family was rocked and grief-stricken. The pain was multiplied.

A terrible childhood is not an excuse for murder, however, it is a cautionary tale about the cost of wrecking kids. We all pick up the tab in one way or another.


Only 44% of children in foster care graduate from high school compared to 81% of their peers. 

Patterns of brokenness are repeated unless there are people and resources ready to step in and throw a wrench in those spinning cycles. It's messy, it's hard, and nothing is guaranteed but the cost of doing nothing and ignoring the crises happening around us is even higher.  We are the village that these kids need.

3.  It's worth it.  

We recently hung up our foster parent hats after 10 yrs of being a fosterhome.  We are now shifting our energy into raising the houseful that the Lord has blessed us with and finding new ways we can act as a support role to active foster families. I'm not going to lie, being a foster family has not been easy. The system is a mess and so are the situations that bring kids into care but in the middle of all that mess are some really beautiful, amazing, precious kids. Kids that deserve to be loved fiercely. Kids that need stability and safety. After a decade of navigating the child welfare system I can tell you it's been worth it. None of the love was wasted. None of the sleepless nights or daytime tears were futile. The deep joy that lives alongside deep sorrow is something spectacular to experience. These kids are worth loving. So are their first families. They are both our neighbors.

So what do I do now? 

I gave you three reasons why one would care fostercare, it only seems fair to give you some ideas on how you can put that concern into action.

-Become a Foster Parent. 

I don't really like having to add the "not everyone can be a foster or adoptive parent" caveat because that just seems obvious. However, I do believe that more could and should.

Really.

You don't have to be super human, or a saint or some sort of parenting expert. You just need to care and make yourself available. Everything else you'll learn as you go. If my family can do it, with all our quirks and imperfection, anyone can.

 If you are not in a position to open your home to a child in need, there are other ways that you can help. Now that I'm not a foster parent I feel more free to list these ideas without sounding like I'm begging for help myself.

- Be a source of emotional and spiritual encouragement.

Foster families tyically face a barrage of nay sayers and doomsday warnings from various concerned family, friends, and even perfect strangers. Be someone who will get excited along with them as they wait for a new arrival and be a shoulder they can cry on when that child leaves. Avoid "you chose this" admonitions or "this is too hard for you" sort of sympathy. Understand that they did choose this life and its hard. They need support not criticism. Discouragement can hit hard, especially when you're exhausted. Remind them that what they're doing matters. Sometimes a kind word is all you need to keep going.

- Help foster families in practical ways.

*Take a meal over to an overwhelmed foster mom.  Be warned that she might cry when you drop it off because she hasn't had a decent nights sleep in years and is exhausted beyond what she ever thought possible.  If she's going through a tough time or recently said a heartbreaking "goodbye" take over a gift bag full of comfort snacks, a favorite beverage, some chocolate, some bath or body product if she likes that sort of thing. Something that says "I know this is hard, it's ok to cry into a tub of ice cream while sipping wine".

*Find out what you need to do to become a social services approved respite caregiver or babysitter.  This is a HUGE need since we can't drop off our foster children with anyone or call the neighborhood teen to babysit like we can with our bio kids. It's essential that we have people we can call in case of emergency or when we desperately need a date with our neglected spouse. This might be the number one way you can help a foster family in your community. Be willing to jump through the hoops, get a background check, or whatever is required in your area and make yourself available.  They need you. They really do. You might have to remind them a time or two that you are ready and willing.

*Drop off a baby gift or a box of diapers. It's practical and it shows that you notice the new child in their home and see that this child has value. You see them. They aren't just "another foster kid".  Gestures like that mean the world to foster parents. Maybe even throw a "shower" for new foster parents. That would be pretty incredible.

*Spend some time with foster siblings. These are the unsung heroes of foster families. The permanent or bio kids of foster parents share in both the heartaches and joys that come with foster care. They also share their parents, their rooms, their toys and their time. Sometimes their portion of a parents time and energy is meager because the needs of the little ones who come through the door are immense and all-consuming. These kids would probably love to come over and do some crafts, go to an event, or go out for lunch and have someone's uninterrupted time and attention. A luxury not found at home. We love it when trusted adults invest in our kids. There are many gaps to fill and we need all the help we can get. As foster parents, we feel guilty and inadequate so much of the time. We second guess how our choices affect our own kids everytime we see them go without something or witness their hearts breaking when a beloved foster baby leaves. What a relief it would be for someone to take one of our older kids to their basketball game and stay to cheer them on when we're cooped up at home with toddlers and fussy babies. Invite them over, take them out, let them know that what they're doing as foster siblings matters too. Sometimes messages coming from a different voice has more impact.

*Shovel the walk, mow the lawn, pick up some groceries. These are all easy ways to help support families who are in the trenches and doing the hard work of fostercare.

- Be a mentor.  There are many ways to invest in the life of vulnerable kids outside of the nitty gritty stuff of parenting them. Volunteer at a group home or program for at risk youth.Volunteer some time at a crises nursery. Be involved in church ministries aimed at children and youth. Chances are there will be some kids there that need some extra attention. Coaches, teachers, Youth Pastors, Big brothers and Sisters. You are all important. Keep in mind that kids that need love the most may be the hardest ones to like. The more people a kid has on their team the better. They need to know that someone sees potential in them, that someone knows they can succeed, and that someone sees their worth and reminds them of that. You might be the only person giving them that message.

These kids, and foster families, need community.  They need a village.

You are part of that village.

This is Real Family

"Which ones are real siblings?"
"What happened to her real parents?"

Sometimes I forget that many people don't consider all my children to be "real siblings". Many people (including many in"the system") don't consider foster parents to be "real" parents either or our family to be a legitimate family.

 I understand why there are a lot of descriptive qualifiers included in our family but inside my house, in the monotony and simplicity of daily life none of them exist.  We are Mom and Dad, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters.  Every once in a while a prefix must be used in a conversation with a child regarding their family of origin, or to clarify for someone who wants to better understand how our family is constructed.

Biological, adopted, foster, adoptive, temporary, long term, permanent ward all have meaning but none of them make what we do less "real" they are not a part of our everyday language.  We don't categorize the children in our family.  We don't segregate or make those distinctions.  Whether I care for a child for 2 weeks or 20 years they are family.  While they are under this roof I strive to love that child as fiercely as any child born from my womb. Sometimes when people hear those qualifying prefixes they stop seeing a real family and imagine relationships that are forced or pretend.

The depth of the very real relationships within my home also do not negate the role that biological family/parent will always have. Even if that role has never actively been a part of the child's life. It is still something to be respected and honoured.

From my vantage point I see a pack of brothers and sisters doing what brothers and sisters do. I see a Mom and Dad doing what Moms and Dad's do.

I watch two sisters playing "ring around the rosie" over and over in my kitchen giggling hysterically as they fall to the ground together.

I see a big brother get down onto the floor on his belly to cheer on and coach a baby brother as he learns to crawl.

I break up yet another fight between a sister and a brother who are each convinced that the other has "ruined my world".  I take away the ipad and remind them that Minecraft is pretend and relationships are real.

I witness those same two siblings later in the day with their arm around each other as they play.

A two year old begs her teenage sister to make her "pretty", which means she wants big sister to put her makeup on her and do her hair.  She sits so patiently as she gets a makeover and then runs upstairs to announce "Princess!" She often asks for that same big sister to come tuck her into bed at night, or read her a book.

I get to see a little girl jump up on the lap of a Daddy she bears no physical resemblance to, wrap her arms around his neck and then ask for him to bounce her on his knee for a horsey ride.

As a Mom, I feed, nurture, soothe, change, wash, teach, train, comfort, scold, and remind. I do these things literally 24 hours a day. Never do I stop what I'm doing and remind myself that I'm not really parenting but only pretending.

These kids dote on each other, they tattle and bicker, they play, and they protect. Because they're family.  It's really not as complicated as the rest of the world wants to make it.

They may not all share DNA but they're siblings in every way that matters on a day to day basis.

I sometimes forget that much of the world doesn't always see foster families, or even adoptive families, as "real".  Then I read or hear something and it jars me back to the reality that others aren't looking through the same lenses I am. They haven't witnessed the truth that plays itself out inside my home every single day.

We may not all be related by blood but we are bound by our commitment to love each other, even when someone takes the last bowl full of popcorn, or wrecks our really awesome Lego creation. Even in the heart wrenching and painful things that come with being a foster family.

Being a "real family" is simple, even though being a foster family is complicated.  Every situation is different.  Some children have a long history and strong bond to biological parents.  Some children have never met their biological parents and came into foster care or their forever family at birth. Some children have regular visits with birth parents and will soon return to live with them. Some have never had a birth parent even request a visit and will remain with a foster family, maybe the only family they have known. Some will be adopted into a permanent family and some will sadly move from home to home.  As a foster parent I have been called "Auntie" and I have been called "Mommy".  That nuance of role didn't change how I loved them or mothered them.

We don't live in a world of ideals as foster parents.  We exist in murky greys, hard truths, and crawling through broken shards praying that God will take all these jagged pieces and make something beautiful.

There's something about uncertainty that forges deep bonds.  A gnawing awareness that time is short or that an unexpected phone call could turn all our lives upside down and leave us struggling to merely breathe gives love an urgency and an intentionality.  We know all too well that "later" and "maybe someday"  is a luxury we can't afford.  We linger, we savour, we pour in and pour out and give it all knowing that tomorrow is not guaranteed and that when a child leaves they will carry those moments with them. We force ourselves to let go and pray it will be enough.

Could it be that people think strange (or impossible) something they just don't understand and haven't witnessed?

That's why it's a good thing for foster families and adoptive families to be seen and heard.
 When your church, your social circle, your community and your child's classroom has families like this and you see how very normal this family is...despite a mix of physical traits and complex histories... your mind and heart might just be stretched and challenged to regard this family as very "real".


 God brought each one of us together including my husband and myself.  Commitment and choosing love over selfishness keeps us here.  Love makes us a family.

{Roman rescuing Cece who climbed a short ways up a climbing wall and started to cry, too afraid to move or let go of the wall}  

{Brothers enjoying a summer swim}

{some sibling playground fun}

{Silas keeping little sister occupied on a rainy camping morning}

{Just a larger than average real family}

Two months with our newest little Dude.

Hey internet friends.  It's been a while so I thought I'd catch up a little.  Last week we arrived home from a trip to visit my parents in Belize. It was a good adventure and lots of family memories were made as we spent time exploring the beautiful country of Belize.  I didn't have internet while we were away, and didn't take a computer, so I didn't blog at all about our trip.  I did post a whole whack of photos on my blog Facebook page though.  It you want to explore Belize through photos you are welcome to enjoy viewing our central American invasion. 

Flying and travelling anywhere with six children (including one toddler that despises sleep and change) is a character building adventure all in itself.  Overall it was a great trip and I know we will have an impressive photo album, lots of memories, and hearts filled with times spent together as a family.  Travelling is one thing we've always loved to do as a family.  We scrimp and save and prioritize to make it happen and feel very thankful that we have been fortunate (and brave) enough to have done many trips to various locations with our kids.  I really feel that experiencing other cultures, hearing (and learning) other languages, eating new foods, and seeing other parts of this amazing world God made is the best education. 

We were unable to take our newest little family member along with us.  It is never ideal to leave a newborn for two weeks, but then again nothing about fostercare or the need for it is ever ideal.  We rarely live in ideals.  The trip was planned and paid for when we agreed to bring this sweet boy into our home, and some good friends stepped in and loved him well while we were away.  He grew so much while we were gone, I hardly recognized the baby that was handed back to me.  He has certainly changed from being a scrawny newborn into a full fledged chunky baby.  He's got jowls, adorable huge cheeks, thigh rolls and is a big boy.  Even just the width around his chest and head seems big.  I wonder how long it will be until he is bigger than his petite 23 lb, 23 month old sister.  He's gaining on her quickly already! 

Lots has happened recently in regards to both our foster children's cases this year.  Unexpected changes, long prayed for relief, and fall on our knees in shock surprises.  It has been amazing, once again, to see God at work in these precious children's lives, in our families life, and in my own heart.  Having another baby in the house was not part of our short term, or long term plan.  It was unexpected, a bit scary, and our "yes" was a weak one.  I trusted that God would turn timid act of obedience into a joyful, gratitude filled, love for this child. He has most certainly done that.  What began as more of duty has morphed into our family feeling extremely blessed and so thankful for this adorable little chunk.  He is such a sweet baby.  He's had some tummy troubles but even in spite of that he's been a mostly content, easy natured baby who sleeps well at night.  Seriously, he only gets up once a night at around 4am.  He's a dream baby.  At over two months old he is now smiling and cooing and responding to all the attention he gets.

I'm so in love with this little guy.  I sit an look at his handsome little face and I'm completely smitten. I marvel at how beautifully he was created and wonder with a sense of awe what his life and purpose will be. I am overwhelmed by the great privilege it is to get to be the one to love and nurture this precious little life.  The word "legacy" is being pressed into my heart since the first day I met this sweet boy in the hospital.  There is so much weight to that word and I'm not sure what it really means in our context, but there's a coming together of past, present and future in this little boy.  So much brokeness, death and violence, loss and grief, bondage and despair birthed into hope for something better, prayers heard, new life and hope.  We get to have a front seat in this amazing story! He is the legacy of his birth family because their story isn't over yet either.  What a privilege and great responsibility to carry in my arms, and care for in my home, this precious child.

The whole household is smitten with this new little addition.  Even the former baby of the family has learned the word "baby" and is always eager to help find his pacifier, hold a bottle, or insist on holding him...even though he seems nearly as big as she is.  She's a tiny little Mama.  I hope these two will be best buds for years to come.  It's a busy, bustling, loud, and messy house....but there is never a shortage of love.

One week at home.

We survived our first week as a family of 9!

Despite some kids with fevers, a cold virus making it's rounds, a house still torn up with renovations, and vehicle troubles we're really not any worse for wear.  

In fact, this little guy has been a very sweet tempered and content baby, considering the issues he's coping with.   He merged into the household pretty seamlessly.  Maybe we're just getting used to having babies around.  He really has brought out the best in each of the other kids.  It's always a joy to see them so easily embrace a new little person in the house.  There is certainly no shortage of love or eager arms in this house. 

Annie, who is currently 20 months, had a rough first day learning to share Mommy and her bottles (which she had not long ago been weaned from) but it didn't take her long to decide she adores having a baby brother.  Most of my day is spent making sure she is not loving him with too much exuberance. The good news is she has decided to embrace the roll of big girl and has slept through the night a few times this week! 

 The 1 year old and newborn combination certainly keeps me on my toes. When Annie was a newborn I spent a lot of time just sitting in the rocking chair while she slept on me.  That's not so much an option this time.... there's much toddler mischief to be had while Mommy is busy with the baby! 

I have no idea how long Tiny Prince will be in our home but he has certainly stolen our hearts already.  He is a precious little boy who has had a rough start to life. 

He's doing really well right now though.  He's eating like a champ, pooping like he's trying to win a contest, and sleeping as well as can be expected at less than a month old.   He's having longer alert times, looking at our faces, and taking in the world around him.  

Good night friends, I'd better go try to get some sleep now.  Morning comes far too quickly these days. 

Unexpected

This year began a little differently than we anticipated.

We are only approved for one foster child.  We are not on the call list.  We had no plan to raise our kid count from six to seven.

Then out of the blue we got a phone call.  We were not at all prepared for what we would hear.  One of the children in our family had a new baby brother.

It felt like a completely unplanned, unexpected pregnancy....and then being told that the baby would arrive in two hours.

Our minds raced through all the reasons it felt impossible.

Our house renovations are crawling along, although we are making headway and enjoying some added space, the mess and work is far from over.

We have a trip to Belize planned and paid for next month.

We have a house full of excessive noise, boisterous energy, big personalities and various special needs.

We have a packed schedule filled with appointments and obligations.

I don't get much sleep.  Annie has been horrible sleeper and at 20 months has only slept through the night a couple times.  I have a couple other early birds and restless sleepers as well.


After many tears, quite a lot of arguing, panicked calls to friends and our pastor (who were wonderful enough to not only tolerate our crazy, but remind us of truth in the midst of it)....we said "no, not now.  We had to decide within a couple hours and it just wasn't enough time to come to any sort of wise, prayerful, and unified decision.

From what we understood he would be sent to an emergency foster home (since he had to be discharged from the hospital that same day) and then we would wait another week until the case worker was back from holidays and we could get more information.  That would buy us some time to get our ducks in a row....or get off the hook, depending on perspective.

This week we called and found out that little guy had been readmitted to hospital the day after he was discharged and there was no other foster family.  He has been a sick little guy for the past week.  After some chatting with the case worker, gaining as much information as we could, and going to visit this precious little boy....... we said "yes".

It's weak yes and a timid yes.

It's a trembling and unsure yes.

We know there are so many reasons why this is crazy, irrational, and illogical.  We know it will be hard.  Those things have swirled through my brain on repeat for a week now.

Even in those doubts I am reminded of truth.  The Gospel that has been pressed so far down into my self preserving heart starts to chip away at the fear.

As we prayed and reviewed our assets and limitations one huge factor is that we are equipped with an amazing church family.  Not only are we so well spiritually fed and cared for by our leadership, we are served and loved by our gospel community.  We know we will not walk this road alone.  We have support, help, encouragement and even people bold and loving enough to helps us with our own sin and struggles.

It's crazy to see how Jesus takes a group of people who come from extremely different backgrounds, a wide variety of ethnicities and cultures, make up every different demographic, who otherwise would have nothing in common and probably wouldn't even know each other, and makes them family.  He forms them into authentic grace saturated community.  Family that is committed to do life together ...through all the messy stuff of life and relationships.  Knowing we are not lone rangers doing this crazy life by ourselves makes all the difference.

 

As I sent out panicked texts to a friend immediately after getting the phone call, I was met with instant offers to help and even an offer to care for the baby while we go to Belize.  Within minutes the one biggest barrier I could think of at that moment was relieved and removed.  

Today I am stuck at home, two hours away from the hospital where baby is still residing, and two of my friends have spent time at the hospital holding this tiny boy.  

After two weeks of laying alone in a hospital bed, he is going to be loved with the full force of a community that knows what it is to be so generously loved by a merciful God.  Even on the days when I can't be there, I know someone will go and take my place.  I'm honestly just sitting back watching God's grace unfold and wrap around all of us.  

This little boy who's circumstances are so tragic, who is viewed by society as a social problem, who was born with so many strikes against him already... is now being treated like a Tiny Prince.  

Because that's the way the upside down Kingdom of God works.  Because that's what Jesus' people do. 

I'm praying that God will take our whispered yes and turn it into a thunderous testimony of God's redemptive mercy and goodness.   He writes good stories....and it will be our privilege to enter into this one. 

Soli Deo Gloria, 

What Foster Parents Aren't

We are not baby sitters.  I am not a nanny, a childcare worker, or an in home daycare. For one, those are all paid positions.  Foster parents do receive some money from social services which is intended to cover the expenses associated with caring for a child.  If I were to consider this income a wage it would work out to about 90 cents per hour, considering we get no weekends off and I am on duty 24 hours a day.
We are not hired babysitters.  We are parents. There is no clocking out at the end of the day.  We parent children, sometimes for a long time and sometimes for a short time.  Too often "the system" can treat foster parents like they are contracted staff, and children are put on ice until they can come up with a game plan.  But then pesky emotions and deep relationships get in the way of policy and bullet points...and that complicates things.  Some social workers appreciate that complicated reality, some don't.

We are not immune to heart break.
"I could never do that"
"I would get too attached"
Those are the most common response I hear when fostering comes up.  I understand it's meant as a compliment but it also assumes that somehow we are a different sort of human.  Getting attached is what we do.  It means that we have loved this child well.  Kids in the foster system deserve nothing less.  There is a difference between a strong love for a child (that can be just as deep as the love we have for the children born from our bodies) and unrealistic expectations.  We expect loss and grief.  We constantly push ourselves forward knowing that just around the corner the little world of safety we've created for this child might come crashing down.  Again. We do it because they're worth it.  Choosing to love and pour myself out completely for a child who may never remember me, who may never love me back or who even resents my role,  has given me a much more tangible view of Christ's love for me.  We aren't stoic saints or calloused robots.  We love, we hurt, we love again.

We are not neglecting our "own" kids.  In all honesty one of the biggest fears I had about fostering is how it would affect my own children. We are a foster family, not just foster parents with other kids.  We are in this together, the excitement of getting a phone call for a new placement, the anticipation of shuffling to make room for the new arrival, the adjusting everyone's lives to accomodate a small stranger, the learning to love and the walking through loss.

This touches every one of my kids.  I would be foolish not to tenderly consider and assess their own hearts every time we say "yes". In fact the thing that breaks me the most when facing a child leaving or a "transition" to a new home is knowing it will hurt my kids.  Watching their little hearts break is worse than having my own torn to shreds.  I carry that heavy burden with each step we take as foster parents.  We have been fostering, typically one infant at a time, for 8 years now.   From this vantage point I can see that this thing we do as a family, this ministering to tiny vulnerable humans, has not ruined my kids.  I sense no resentment from them at all at this point.  Right now one of my children is displaced from an actual bedroom because a baby with horrible sleep habits moved in a year and half ago.  He sleeps on a camping mat, last night it was located on the living room floor. Sometimes it's in the toy closet. Yet, he loves her fiercely and doesn't complain (or at least rarely complains about the arragmements). Their lives are disrupted in every possible way, and yet these disruptions have the potential to forge character.

 I see how they each have a deep sibling bond and love for their little foster sister.  All five of them have their own unique and very sweet relationship with her.  Having little ones around has brought virtues out in my big kids that I'm not sure would have been this developed otherwise.  Watching a 12 year old boy nurture and tenderly care for an infant or toddler is precious site.  By being a foster family they have had ongoing practical life lessons in flexibility, responsibility, compassion, empathy, sacrifice, patience, generosity, and gentleness.  No, it's not always easy.  Siblings are siblings.  But if fostering has changed my kids it is for the better.  If it has ruined them, its for a superficial and selfishly lived life.  

We are not the enemy.  Fostering drops us into the middle of someone else's nightmare.  We are thrust into stories of heartache, brokenness, failures, and loss. Our role is to help pick up the pieces for a child who has become collateral damage in a family's crises. Sometimes that crises has gone on for generations, other times it might be a brief bump in the road.
By nature this role puts us in an awkward position.  As we strive to advocate for and protect the child in our care, this can potentially put us at odds with some biological family members (It can also put as at odds with social services).  This is not our desire or intention.  In fact, I find that with each new foster baby I welcome into our home, my heart is broken with compassion and expands with love for this child's birth family. Even in their addictions, brokenness, illness, and poor choices their biological family starts to feel like an extension of our own. Even if they don't have a relationship with or visit the child they are never far from our prayers and thoughts.  We want success for them.  We want healing and transformation in their lives. We long for that, we pray for that, even once the option of custody has long since passed.

Foster parents see the worst of what broken adults can do to children (and what this broken world can do to adults), we know all too well that reunification attempts can be a disaster and the a child's best interest is not always put first.
That being said, if a parent or close relative is stepping up and working hard toward gaining custody we will do all we can to help that transition to be a success even if our hearts are breaking from the personal loss.  I can honestly say that I love nothing more than to have positive relationships with a child's family of origin.  In some cases foster parents are co-parenting, even after a child has gone back to their family of birth. They become part of a birth parent's support network.  Some former foster parents switch from the role of active parent, to being a loving Auntie and Uncle that gets to be involved in that child's life.  It's not an "us" vs. "them mentality. It doesn't have to be.  Birth parents, foster parents, and case workers are all part of a team that is trying to salvage a childhood, and build a positive future.

We are not trying to strip a child of his heritage.  

In fact we try very hard to do the opposite.

This topic is pivotal and a focal point for social services in the area I live.  In my opinion tragic actions of the past have triggered opposite over reactions of the present.  Like a driver who hits ice and starts to slide off toward a steep ditch, who then over corrects by quickly turning the wheel in the opposite direction....which then puts the car into a dizzying out of control spin.  The pendulum has swung from having no consideration for a child's ethnicity or culture of origin to making that the apex of decisions being made. Being moved to "their own culture" (even to live with a non relative and stranger) can  trump things like current strong family bonds, permanency/adoption, a child's current community and support network, and a consideration for things like trauma and attachment.  It's a very sensitive mine field that we walk as a multi-racial family.  Policies of racial segregation are one of the biggest frustrations I have with status quo.

 I believe that it is important for an adopted or foster child to grow up being connected to her roots, her culture and family of origin, and to have her ethnic background be part of her positive identity.  I'm sure we won't get it right all the time, but we really do try. We make that effort and naturally incorporate those things into our family life. My husband and I are as white as Wonder Bread and we have children from four distinct ethnic makeups.  Our home is a patchwork quilt of various cultures.  Traditions that were passed onto us, ones we combined when we got married, some we create on our own, others we adopt into our unique family culture. So many things make us who we are and build our identity....our families, our values, our faith, our ethnicity, our experiences.  These are all so much more nuanced and complex than the dividing lines of colour that the world likes to draw.

I love all the children that are cared for in my home. As such, we start to identify with and have a deep appreciation for all those various cultures of origin...in our own way. Our family is a eclectic mix of Canadian farmer, American city, Chinese, Métis, Saulteaux, English, Scottish, Scandinavian, ....and Mexican because we love Mexico and thoroughly appropriate their culture any chance we get.  One of my blonde children actually convinced he was Mexican for quite a few years.  We have family members and close friends from many more fascinating cultures. Anyway...you get the point.  It's complicated.  Colour coded dividing lines get blurry.

We are not strong.   Don't get me wrong foster parents are a passionate breed.  We love deeply and protect fiercely.  We resist very intense Mama bear fight or flight impulses regularly.  We get our hearts battered and bruised and then we are crazy enough to sign up to do it again, and again.  Don't let that fool you though.  We aren't always strong.  Sometimes we just make it through each day.  Sleep deprivation, toddler tantrums, various doctors appointments, visitation schedules, dealing with chronic behaviors stemming from damage that was done in utero, trauma, abuse or lack of healthy parental attachment at crucial points in development....they do take their toll.  The stress of never knowing what's around the bend or what news the next phone call will bring can make a heart and body weary.  I'm not strong but I lean hard on the One who is my strength. A God who rescues, pursues, and who binds up broken hearts. 

 Foster parents need community that "gets it", they need encouragement that what they are doing day in and day out actually matters.  An image from a story in the Bible just came to mind. Joshua and other Israelite men went out to do battle with the Amalekites.  Moses, Aaron and Hur stationed themselves up on a hill.  As long as Moses had his arms raised with the the staff in hand, the battle was being won.

 "But Moses’ hands grew weary, so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side. So his hands were steady until the going down of the sun."

That is a fairly accurate depiction of why we need our brothers and sisters standing along side us. We are not doing "battle" against flesh and blood, but the battle is real just the same.  Our arms grow weary as we stand in the gap for each child that enters our home. Exodus 17:12

We are not in control.  I have very little say (none really) in what happens to any of the foster children that come into my home.  I do not make the case plans nor do they need my approval or permission to move a child.  I love these kids as my own but they are not my own.  When you are fostering you have no option but to contend with the feeling of helplessness.  Like a little boat tossed around in a big ocean.  We just hold on for the ride.  We are not in control but we are trusting a God who is.

Living with a locked door and an open heart.

There seems to be a misconception in our culture that having boundaries equals a lack of love.

This spills out into many different aspects of relationships, family dynamics, and our society in general.  One way I've seen this explode to the surface is in regards to actual national borders and immigration policy.  There are huge debates right now on how "open" our borders should be, especially in light of the recent horrific Islamic terrorist attack in Paris and the Syrian refugees.

On one side you have people insisting that anything but dissolving national borders, and rolling out large welcome mats to anybody and everybody that wishes to relocate from the country of their birth is "xenophobic". These people often smugly insist that people who disagree with them are hateful, bigoted, racists. Because when you lack a logical argument name calling is an effective way to discredit and silence others.  There is also the assumption that if you have a more nuanced opinion you must lack compassion and are certainly being "unChristian".

On the other side of this issue we have people who feel that that borders need to be slammed closed, that people shifting around puts their way of life, their jobs, the economy, or their own comfort level at risk. Governments should only ever spend money on their own citizens and the world can burn outside the safety of their little bubble of serenity.

I find myself wandering through the murky grey area between.

 As Christian I am compelled by certain principles of generosity, grace, mercy and sacrificial love. I also believe that every human being is an image bearer of God and are inherently equal in worth. As such I will treat you with respect and dignity regardless of who you are or whether I agree with you on any particular topic.  As a Christian I also believe in justice and acknowledge the reality of evil in the world as well as the darkness nestled within the hearts of mankind.

Because of the reality of human depravity and sin,  I lock the door of my home at night. I am a realist with solid hope, not an idealist with pixie dust.

I lock my door, not because I hate everyone on the outside of my home, but because I love and want to protect those who are sleeping peacefully within it's walls.

I lock the dead bolt of my door knowing full well that there are some people in the world who callously choose to harm others.  It may be simply a small deterrent, but it's something.  There is some security in knowing it will be difficult for someone to enter unexpected and uninvited. I do it because that is the loving thing to do.

Some might say that locking my front door is hateful because someone might be in need of a home and they have every right to mine.  My home might have a nicer computer than theirs which really isn't fair.  Not allowing them free access is heartless and not compassionate. One might even justify home invasion and theft because the perpetrator might have felt disenfranchised or marginalized. Maybe it's a cry for help and we should put up signs on our doors saying "home invaders welcome" or "free hugs for burglars".

If you want to do that, more power to you.  You either lack good sense or are far braver than I.  Maybe you don't care about the safety of those you love or being a good steward of what you have been given.

My guess is that most everyone who wails against a cautious immigration procedure or secure border, locks the doors of their own homes. To me it's a very similar thing.

You see, my humble home is filled with people I love.  So filled up that we are in the middle of a construction project to add a couple extra rooms.  Our house is full because we have open arms and open hearts.  We have welcomed the weak, the unwanted, the rejected, the disabled and the wounded into our home.  We have become family. My prayer is that our arms and hearts will remain open and ready to embrace those in need.

Whether it's someone who's vehicle has broken down on the the bitterly cold Saskatchewan highway, or someone who has recently moved to our country...our kitchen table, as small as it is at the moment, is always ready to be set with an extra place.  Even if it means some of us have to eat on the floor or in the living room.  We will make room.  We will give you what we have.  Whether you are rich or poor, whether you are refined or so rough around the edges we have to remind the children not to stare, you will be treated with dignity and kindness.

This is our home.  This is the home I strive to create.  A place of warmth and welcome.  A place to belong and to be welcomed as you are.  A place where grace is lived out.  That grace is important because I am very aware of that not one of us who live here is without desperate need of it.

Here's the catch. We get to choose who we allow through our front door. We should and do swing it wide open to people in need, to neighbors near and far, to friends, to orphans, to widows, even to strangers.   On the other hand if someone is outside our home yelling death threats it is not unkind to close that door, lock it and call the police... Maybe even apply for a restraining order. 

Not only do I secure the door of my warm and welcoming home at night but I also have general boundaries regarding who I will share my home with, and who will be permitted to dwell within these walls.

 If I know that someone is a heightened risk to harm my children, for example they are known to have raped children in the past, they will not be seated comfortably on my sofa or curled up in one of our beds. If I feel compelled to minister to that person in any way, it will be outside the walls of my home. Some might consider that mean or ungracious, but it is something that my family has had to navigate.

I will not only protect my children but I will model that strength for them so they learn to develop their own healthy boundaries.  Love does not equal "tolerance" of anything and everything.

Those boundaries are not a fortress and our home is not a bunker where we hide. I teach my children to leave their comfort zone, and the relative safety of these walls, and go out into the world.  Love draws people in and it also means going out and meeting the needs of people where they are.

 Yes, as Christians we are called to love and forgive, even our enemies, but forgiveness doesn't delete consequences or equate trust.  Love doesn't ignore reality.  Sometimes love means saying "no".  Sometimes it means allowing someone to experience the consequences of their own choices or experience the just reward for their crimes.  Even if our heart breaks for them.

Loving those within my home requires my vigilance and scrutiny.   It requires that I carefully consider who I allow to babysit, and who I trust to spend time alone with my children.  It requires that I might offend, I might hurt feelings, and I might seem unwelcoming or overly cautious.  This is me loving those who are entrusted to me.  Those within my little flock will always come first.

I can promise you this, if someone does breach the border of my front door uninvited, and with malicious intent, they will not meet a passivist they will meet two fierce parents who would rather sacrifice their own lives, or end someone else's, than allow their children to be harmed.

Bottom line is this.  Loving parents do what they can to protect their kids.  Good shepherds protect their flocks. A responsible government protects it's citizens.  That is first priority.

In the past few days people are spouting all kinds of smugly absurd things all over social media.  One of the most troubling patterns I see are those people scrambling to deflect, distract from, or downplay the actions of the vile terrorists who massacred roughly 130 unsuspecting people. Many more were injured. The world, especially those who live fairly insulated lives in the west, doesn't know what to do with that.

 My theory is that people pretend violent Islamic jihadism isn't a threat because they don't know how to reconcile that sort of barbaric undeniable evil with a humanistic world view that claims everyone is essentially good. When something unimaginable happens they scramble to prop up rhetoric, like a corps with rigamortus.  Anything but call it what it is.  Anything but look evil squarely in the eyes.  Anything but believe that there are people in the world, who with a clear mind and passionate sense of purpose, have schemed, studied and planned ways to brutalize people they hate.

Christian doctrine accounts for that kind of evil.  It angers and saddens me, but it doesn't pull the carpet out from under my assumptions or beliefs about humanity.  We contend with sin, while proclaiming God's extravagant mercy and scandalous grace available to the vilest repentant sinner. We don't pretend evil doesn't exist.  We also don't pretend it doesn't exist in our very own hearts as well.

Denying how deeply depraved humanity is, is a false sense of security.  Metaphorically speaking, it's not us with our secured front doors and careful screening of babysitters that are clinging to false control, it's those of you who pretend that at is well while you "lovingly" welcome the devil into your children's bedrooms.

Some cling to the hope that they can appeal to, appease, and reason with stone hearts and blind eyes.  I believe heart transformation is something only God can do.

Some move forward with the hope that if they can make evil small, manageable or explainable...then they can prevent those horrible things from happening.

This world will be dangerous and unsafe as long as it continues to spin.
My hope doesn't begin or end here.

 I  have the assurance that, despite the raging chaos in the hearts and minds of mankind, Jesus is still on the throne.  Our God is sovereign and He is both the beginning and the end.

Terrorist don't win,  Jesus does.

Until that day, I will continue to have open arms and a secure door.

If your church's only response to the orphan crises is sending groups to an orphanage, there is a problem.

I'll explain the strange title of this post eventually, but first I want to tell you about something we had the privilege to witness.

Last night our church family rallied together to help bring a beautiful 11 year old girl home. She is currently in an orphanage in China and has cerebral palsy. The family leaves next week! This is a complete miracle and amazing story in itself. From their first home study visit to their travel time was 3 months. That's crazy fast enough to leave their heads spinning and funds drained. 

All we did was organize the fund raiser...it was everyone else that showed up with big hearts and open hands. We had 72 people show up for the steak night dinner. I'm not sure of the exact total amount collected was since there were some donations in envelopes and some that came later but over $5500 was raised. That's not bad for one small church family and a handful of other family friends.  We had dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, we could come away from the evening with $2000 to give this family.  

God is so good. 

I know I belong to a very generous church family that lives out the gospel they preach but sometimes I'm still just blown away. The room was packed with young families living pay check to pay check, college students, immigrants, other adoptive and foster families, limited income retired folks, some who have more, some who have less..... all came to joyfully give, knowing all they have comes from and belongs to the Lord.

This is Jesus' people.
I'm brought to tears over it still.

Not everyone can adopt or foster but everyone who takes the name of Christ has a role in caring for our worlds most vulnerable.

Now we are all excited to welcome this newest child home, and welcome her into our church family. 

My heart is swollen from last nights display of love and generosity.  My heart still constantly aches for all the children still waiting to be loved.  Two very conflicting emotions that leave me inspired and driven to keep beating this same drum that all children deserve to be safe, protected and loved.

I will be living out that mantra, and waving that flag, until the day Jesus takes me home.

I've written about orphan care in the past and how I think that the Church needs to do better than we have.  That's not to say that churches around the globe aren't mobilized and filled with people who are bringing children into their homes, speaking on behalf of the voiceless, and working tirelessly to affirm the value of each child's life but there is still a long way to go, a lot of Christians sitting on the sidelines, and one specific paradigm that needs to shift.  

Please take some time to watch this documentary on orphan care methods and how we can address the crises of so many vulnerable children wasting away in institutions, bouncing around foster care, or at risk of abandonment due to poverty.  Please listen as experts in orphan care from around the world discuss their dream of a complete paradigm shift in how we, as the Church living out the gospel within local church communities, care for vulnerable children. 

The dream is that orphanages would become a relic of history and that every child would have a family of their own.... Preserving their own biological family unit, placement with a close relative, or a permanent loving adoptive family or guardianship.

The practice of putting kids into orphanages stopped a long time ago in North America. How can we justify exporting, or even just supporting, that outdated and harmful method of childcare to other nations?

Warehousing kids just needs to stop.  Although I don't want to focus as much on the mantra that orphanages need to close as much as we need to challenge our brothers and sisters around the globe to step up to the plate and care for vulnerable children.  Children need a family.  Period.  That's the way God designed children to be raised.  

I couldn't agree more passionately with this video regarding orphan prevention and permanency.

The Church needs to be on the front lines of "best practice" when it comes to caring for at risk children.... not a century behind clinging to detrimental residential orphan care practices.  

Residential, institutionalized child care is fraught with so many problems. Even the "good""reputable""Christian" ones.  Whether we call it a group home, a children's home, or an orphanage it's all still various shades of the same spectrum.  This documentary discusses many of the problems that come with residential orphan care.  They're right.  As an adoptive parent, a mother who has been fostering for 8 years, and former orphanage staff I whole heartedly agree. 

 I've seen these issues played out before me while I lived and worked at an orphanage.  Every problem addressed in this video, and all the problems I addressed in my blog post here were a major problems there. My own observations, and experiences, are not at all isolated but normative with institutionalized care. The more I inquire, talk to people, observe "aged out" children, and study orphan care methods the more I'm utterly convinced of this.  

As Christians we need to do better.   We need to do better with our money and the ministry/orphan care models we choose to support.  I would even dare to suggest that in many cases our well intentioned donations to "orphan care" ministries actually make the orphan crises worse.  

We must not do nothing....but doing something wrong isn't acceptable. 

This is a discussion those who care about vulnerable children need to be having.  These are changes that must be made in the way we think about caring for children.  

In Canada we have a dark stain in our history.  It's called "residential schools".  I think there was some shred of good intention that created them but they are a tragic example of why institutions raising children is a horribly devastating idea.  Of course there are some differences between Canadian First Nations children being taken from their families and placed into residential boarding schools and current orphanages around the world but many of the motives, methods, and harmful consequences overlap.  In Canada, the effects of that breaking up of family units still lingers. When a system decides that children who are perhaps living in poverty or who may be lacking educational opportunities with their families of origin, would be better off living in an orphanage, group home, or other institution....something vital has been missed in the equation.  Children must have love, nurture, stability and a family to call their own.  Without that any food, clothing and education means nothing.

   Taking (or luring) children from vulnerable families to fill up orphanages or residential schools is reprehensible.   Of course there are occasions when a child is being abused, severely neglected, or is totally abandoned.  Not every biological parent is able to parent. As a foster parent, I know the painful reality of this well.  When dealing with real world brokenness and vulnerable children there are no real cut and dry answers but rather a lot of nuanced partial remedies to complicated and tragic individual circumstances. 

What we do know needs to remain constant as we weave our way through the mess of this sin wrecked world, proclaiming life and redemption into the darkest corners.   

Children need families.  They need to belong and they need to be loved.  That's foundational to every aspect of child development.  That's how God designed children.  That's why he instituted family.  

There is something new happening within the church, and in many countries that are beginning to realize that something must change.  Fledgling foster programs are beginning in places like Mexico and Belize as well as around the globe.  The Church needs to be on the front lines of those changes.  Local national churches must be taught, equipped and challenged to view children differently.  They are not someone else's problem...they are ours.  

The North American Church, where so many resources exist, needs to consider how we can care for "orphans" in our own cities as well as how we can help globally.

We must evaluate where our North American resources are going and pursue ethical movements to keep children in families of origin, or to have them placed within a healthy, loving family units.  Let's choose to support families that are on the front lines of new in-home, family based initiatives in developing nations.

If your church's only response to the orphan crises is sending groups on mission trips to an orphanage there is a problem. 

It's not malicious, just short sighted and narrowly focused.  You may be missing out on so many opportunities to create a culture within your church that proclaims that every child deserves a family.  The Church must affirm a self sacrificing, gospel centered, willingness to open our own homes as well as support adoptive and fostering families.

Children are worth it.  They are worth getting out of our comfort zone for.  It's important enough to ask the hard questions and dig for answers.  

Don't wait for perfect.

An acquaintance recently wrote to me, shared her heart for adoption as well as some of her own fears.  She shared with me why it seems crazy that she would be longing to adopt, when she already has a busy household and all the normal struggles of life,  I assured her that I could relate to most every point she made.

For some reason people look at adoptive families...or families that are doing something out of the ordinary, and think they must be some sort of saints or super family.  As strange as it seems some people may even think that about us.  Those who know us well may have just spit their coffee out all over their computer screen in laughter.

 I think it's human nature to put other families or people up on pedestals.  I know I do that.  There are always families, especially online, who appear to have it all together and in comparison my messy house, tangly haired kids, and drained bank account seem really inadequate. Comparison can be a horrible trap. When you hold an unattainable standard up, like a just out of reach carrot that needs to be obtained before you decide to surrender the reigns and say "Yes" to a child in need of love...you may miss out.

 There are families who just seem to float through life on rainbows and pixie dust. They do family devotions and the children actually listen.  They eat every Pinterest meal together with well mannered children having delightful conversations.  They actually play board games and like it. You're pretty sure their children have never thrown tantrums or said naughty words.  My theory is that most of that is an illusion whether created intentionally or simply assumed by onlookers.

If my family is anything it's a testament to the fact that God uses very imperfect people to accomplish his perfect will.  He is the skilled marksman who can hit a bulls eye with a crooked arrow.  We just trust that he is shaping us, these broken arrows, as we are willing to be used.

Every day I fail.  I get impatient.  I battle selfishness and laziness.  I get discouraged.  I'm a flake when I should be consistent. I overreact in anger when I should be modelling grace. Occasionally I resort to making parenting decisions out of pride or embarrassment. Fairly often I wonder why God would think I'm fit to raise any child, never mind children born to another woman.  Sometimes I'm almost crippled with the enormity of the responsibility of that.

If I let my mind wander among the "what ifs" I can become paralyzed with fear.  Fear that I will fail at this task.  The irony is that even in that fear I'm elevating myself.  That fear exposes pride. I'm taking on a role that is not mine to assume.  These little ones, they belong to the hands that created them.  I am just stewarding their little hearts, minds and bodies as best I can.  It IS a huge responsibility but He has the final word in their lives, not me.

Daily I have to trust that God's grace will meet me where I am and fill in all those spaces where I so desperately lack.  I choose to trust that God is sovereign and that the Holy Spirit is at work in the hearts of my children guiding and drawing them in.  My job is to obey and trust that he loves them more than I do.

Any redemptive story that happens behind these walls is His work.  I'm like the three year old with a plastic hammer "helping" her Daddy build a garage.  He has invited me into this work, not because of my stellar parenting skills or because I'm especially needed, but because it is His good purpose and joy to do it.  His joy has become my own.

So to the ones who long to someday open their homes to children in need of family but feel that they must first reach some new stratosphere of holiness, or have a perfect marriage, or have a nicer home, or make more money, or discover the key to being a flawless parent.... rest assured that the One who ignited that burning desire deep in your soul is faithful.   He is the one who will make orphans sons and daughters.  Jesus is the rescuer and redeemer. You are the three year old with the plastic hammer. Waiting and hoping for a shiner plastic hammer really doesn't' make that much difference.  Just be willing to join the Father in His work and stay close by his side.

365 Days, Happy Birthday my Darling girl.

One  year.

It's been a year since you left your mothers womb and were welcomed into this big scary outside world.  The circumstances surrounding that day are mostly fuzzy to me, and even if they weren't, I wouldn't share those sacred details here. What I do know is that you were a tiny very vulnerable little girl, not quite ready for this hostile world, but yet God's plan for your life began to unfold.

Despite being born from and into less than ideal circumstances your life was preserved and protected. Your life has value and purpose and is not an accident.  When I think about the day of your birth I ache for the woman who carried you.

 When I laid eyes on you at just one week old, weighing just a little over 4 lbs and hooked to various tubes, wires, and monitors I fell in love. I will never forget that moment when we first met.  I was instructed to wear a paper gown and gloves, an uncomfortable barrier between your skin and mine, and was encouraged to take you into my arms.

You astonished me with your strength, trying so hard to hold up your own little head and look around.  I spent the next week either sitting and holding you while you slept, or longing to be at the hospital sitting and holding that tiny raven haired girl.  You needed to know that you weren't alone in the world.  You weren't alone in this world.  You have never been alone.

At two weeks old a case worker drove you out to your new home, and you arrived looking so hilariously tiny in your baby carseat.  All your siblings were so obnoxiously eager to meet you. You have been fiercely loved by each one of them every moment since.

Every day, since the moment we first met, you have been our delight.  I can't even express what an incredible privilege it has been to be your family these past 12 months.  We are technically "just" your foster family, but in every way that matters we have been a family. A real family.

There was a time when I grieved over the fact that we wouldn't get to witness this birthday milestone and know your little toddler personality.  Now I revel in each moment of it.

Your 1st Birthday is such a sweet celebration.  A celebration of this amazing little girl that was so wonderfully created.

I don't know what our future holds my Darling but I do know that we have poured as much love and nurture into each day as is humanly possible.  You deserved nothing less from us.  It has been our absolute joy.

My sweet girl, we have today...and 364 yesterdays.
God holds tomorrow.

Even if I don't know what sorts of joys or sorrows tomorrow will bring I trust that He is good and that He has a loving purpose in it all.

So we continue to trust and pray and sing -

 "Jesus loves me this I know

For the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to Him belong

They are weak but He is strong"

At 12 months old you are full of life and and mischief.  You have a nearly constant smile on your face and a quick bubbling giggle. I don't think I've ever known a baby to have such a well developed sense of humour.  You love to play games and make us laugh.  You are joy, sweetness and innocence in one squishy little bundle.  Your curiosity and feisty tenacity keep me on my toes, and keep us all cheering as you try out new things with that "check this out" grin. 

At 12 months old your hobbies include pulling books off the book shelf, running water out of the drinking water jug onto the floor,  snatching (and using) the ipod or phones where ever they are carelessly set down, splashing in the toilet, taking baths, searching for tasty Legos, and emptying kitchen cupboards. 

Mostly you like to play with and soak up attention from anyone in the room.  

At 12 months old you have 6 adorable little teeth and are a good eater.  You weigh 20 lbs and have the sweetest little squishy legs. 

You aren't walking yet but you cruise along the furniture like a pro, and crawl like you're trying to win a race. You are adventurous and ambitious but have a sensible cautious streak.  You have just begun to stand alone...holding both hands up in the air, with a huge smile on your face and an expression that says "Hey guys, look what I can do!"

You love to give hugs, snuggles, and smushy kisses.  We are all eager recipients of your generous affection.  Your happy place is still curled up in my arms with a bottle.  This happy place usually puts you to sleep.  In fact you enjoy this so much you wake at least a couple times a night for a midnight snuggle (last night it was six times ...which reminds me that we need to renegotiate this whole night time snuggle thing).  As exhausting as our midnight rendezvous have become, I will remember them fondly in the years to come.  That quiet house has belonged to just us.   We have brought up a years worth of sunrises together.  It is a bit ironic that one of my biggest apprehensions in taking a newborn was lost sleep (I'm really quite attached to sleeping through the night), but here we are 1 later and you've slept through the night about 3 times.  That makes me laugh, and cry...because I wouldn't trade you for all the peaceful nights and late mornings in the world. 

You and Daddy have your own sweet relationship too.  You have him all wrapped up around your finger.  He would do anything for you.  You get so happy when he comes home from work, and burst out in a breathy excited laugh anytime the phone rings because you expect his voice to come out of it.

Precious Annie, you are loved.  Endlessly loved.

You are loved as much as any parent has ever loved a child, even if we have no actual right to call your ours.

When you strip away all the titles, qualifiers, prefixes, and legalities we are just "Mommy" and "Daddy".  We are family, not born of blood or even legal documents, but because we are in this together.


We are so thankful to be a part of your life and to watch you grow.



Love Mommy