Some days being a foster parent is about fielding questions for social workers, answering text messages, paperwork, packing the visit bag, preparing the child for a visit, advocating for the child's needs, logging Meds, and praying you are making a difference in a broken system.
Other days foster care is about watching the child who was afraid of water run in the sprinkler. Or the child who didn't know how to play with toys tell you an elaborate story of make believe. Or watching the child who was afraid of any sudden movement, being tossed in the air by his foster father with his head thrown back in a fit of laughter. Or realizing the child who had little language is pretending to read his favorite storybook with expression.
This is the hardest thing we have ever done (and we've done hard things). But I wouldn't trade the hard because then I would have to give up the amazingly wonderful.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Monday, May 6, 2013
I have a ton of things I need to accomplish today, but I'm not getting much done because I can tell I need to write. I am mentally writing while I'm trying to do laundry and clean out kid closets for the change of seasons. It's not working, so I'm taking a few minutes to write in the hopes of a more productive afternoon.
I'm tired. This month has been one of those where you just keep waiting for the next shoe to fall. Not the other shoe, because several shoes have already fallen. Just the next shoe.
In the midst of this month, I have greatly desired to know what our family will look like this time next year. I'm longing for some stability in the midst of so much upheaval, uncertainty, and change. (I can only imagine how the children caught in foster care limbo must feel.)
I have been through these phases during our time as foster parents already. Times when I just want to know where in the world we are headed. Times when I want to prepare my heart for the future. Times when I let the uncertainty of this life grow into fear and heartache. When I let the fear grow, I become irritable and easily frustrated with normal life with young children. It's not pretty, and I know better. I have got to let go of my desire to control this life (again, for the umpteenth time). If I don't, my children are going to be wearing sweaters in July because I'm never going to get these clothes changed out.
"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." Matthew 6:34.
I'm tired. This month has been one of those where you just keep waiting for the next shoe to fall. Not the other shoe, because several shoes have already fallen. Just the next shoe.
In the midst of this month, I have greatly desired to know what our family will look like this time next year. I'm longing for some stability in the midst of so much upheaval, uncertainty, and change. (I can only imagine how the children caught in foster care limbo must feel.)
I have been through these phases during our time as foster parents already. Times when I just want to know where in the world we are headed. Times when I want to prepare my heart for the future. Times when I let the uncertainty of this life grow into fear and heartache. When I let the fear grow, I become irritable and easily frustrated with normal life with young children. It's not pretty, and I know better. I have got to let go of my desire to control this life (again, for the umpteenth time). If I don't, my children are going to be wearing sweaters in July because I'm never going to get these clothes changed out.
"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." Matthew 6:34.
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