Collision. Not like a car wreck, all filled with violence and destruction, but something more a kin to an ocean wave crashing on to the beach.
It is a season of many things colliding all at once.
We're both working hard at finishing strong in our first full year of public school and being wildly expectant of a very full, fun summer schedule.
We're celebrating a season of birthdays and looking back at where we've been. It's a balancing act of keeping every one's birthday special, giving everyone a special day, finding the "right" gifts and not loosing our minds or succumbing to the let's just get it over with already mindset.
We're walking in the season of bittersweet unknowns in foster care land. Every case has it's back and forth. Each one has it's moments of drama. There are those time when it seems like a happy ending is right around the corner, so sweet you can almost taste it. Those are the outcomes that are the ones you believe are the desires of your heart, colored by baby kisses and hearts that have loved without restraint. And just as you begin to buy into the possibilities, the flip side of the coin becomes visible. The conversations begin, heavy with hints that it may not go that way after all.
The whole thing brings you back around to where you began your foster journey, trusting in God that He alone called you to do this and He alone will provide all you need to walk through it. These are the days where you remember, this child is His, ultimately, not mine. Little One is His and in our hearts, no matter how much we want what we want, we will go back to doing what is best for him. Even if it means letting him go somewhere else. Even if it means his time with us is ending. We know we did what we were supposed to in these years and we will let him go if we have to.
Because, honestly, in spite of my very selfish heart and desires, I do want what ever is best for Little One.
I believe that even if I don't like the outcome, even if I don't understand the outcome, God will redeem it. I believe that the time, the love, we have invested in Little One will not be lost.
And I am human. Ridiculously human. If he has to move on, I will hurt. I will cry. I will miss him and probably be pretty dang cranky over the whole thing. But I will let him go. And in time, probably not even a long time, I will welcome the next Little One and pour out my time and my heart.
I can't imagine my life without this.
Well, this is it for today. These are my half coherent thoughts as I wait, because that's all I can do.
1 comment:
I hope you don't think this sounds trite and simplistic, but there is nothing more courageous than being a foster parent. No biological parent is given any guarantees, but we can at least assume permanent placement. I love the way you boldly count on God to hold up His end of the bargain.
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