Life is full of decisions, but they are never made in a vacuum. Our histories, our experiences affect the present and the future. So when Tom and I say that, God willing, we’re becoming respite care foster parents, it’s part of a journey we’ve been on for some time. We debated adoption after we had one biological child. We considered foster care at one point but I worried that our kids were too young to understand the comings and goings of other kids and that they would wonder if they were going to leave too. But recently it resurfaced and I feel God giving me mixtures of excitement and terror at the idea of upsetting our equilibrium and inviting kids into our home. Our hearts might break, after all. But the excitement of attempting to love kids like God does, to be part of His helping right what is broken is super, crazy thrilling to me. I’ve struggled with finding our place and living out justice in this season of life with young kids. Fostering feels like being the hands and feet I’ve longed for.
But my reason for writing this post is less about me and how I’m feeling about it than my kids’ response. The conversation went something like this:
Me: So, Daddy and I are thinking about helping take care of kids who can’t be with their parents right now and I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page. What do you think about that?
Kid 1: Yes! I want another kid in this family and Mommy doesn’t want to born [sic] another baby. Can it be a girl?
Kid 2: I have an even better idea! If there’s a kid who doesn’t have a mommy or daddy we could ADOPT them to be part of our family!
Me: humbled and speechless
The compassion that oozes from them stops me in my tracks. Don’t get me wrong, we have our fair share of antagonizing and yelling from the mouth of babes here. But I see God working in them, teaching them (and through them, me) his heart for justice, his unflinching and forever love. They don’t immediately jump to the logistics, what sacrifices might be made, whether or not they’ll have to share their toys, their parents’ time, etc. Instead, they are eager to love and innocently trust it will all work out well in the end. No wonder we’re called to have the faith of a little child. Isn’t that so, Abba?
dusty paths 