I never really talk about the grief of foster care. Maybe that's because everyone else always brings up the grief part when they talk to me. "Isn't it so hard to give him back?" "How are you going to give a baby back?" "You haven't heard from him, I don't know how you do it?" The answer to those questions is grief. Real grief that grows out of real love and loss.

I feel the grief of foster care every day. I don't dwell in it, but I feel the reminders and pangs of it. When I see his class at church, and he's not there. When I pick the baby up at daycare, and his old classroom door is cracked and I can see the spot where he used to run to me every afternoon. When I go to meet the teacher, and people who know us in the community ask where our other son is. Then when they ask the isn't it hard questions for the millionth time. Yes, it's hard. Maybe I need a "business" card to hand out. "I'm a foster mom, yes it's hard."

If I'm really honest, then I have to admit that sometimes I want to just walk away from foster care. The reality is that it's tempting to think of how much easier my life would be without foster care. But, we know that this is our place of ministry for now. Sometimes I wish that we would have a placement stay forever, and then maybe my family would feel complete. I am often jealous of families that know they are complete. The family pictures that have the same people every year, I'm jealous. I've wanted our family to grow for roughly 6 years. For now God's answer to that desire is, No. That hurts too.

So here I am today, honest about my emotions but setting them aside. We are called to this ministry. I could walk away, no one is forcing me to stay, but the idea that a child might need us and we wouldn't be there scares me more than the grief. So we keep going. Within the next few weeks we will go through the reapproval process to start year 4. Our time in foster care is not finished.