All in foster-care
If you read these numbers anything like the way I typed them, you just glossed over all the zeros and saw the precise number of “it’s a really big problem.” These kinds of numbers are just too much to even process...A few minutes of fifth grade calculations and the numbers are quite easily reconciled.
Last time we talked, Britt and Andy shared their hearts about becoming foster parents (in pure blog gold). Now that they’ve ventured into getting licensed, they can share about the actual process of becoming foster parents. In the past month, Britt and Andy have had a number of meetings to begin the process:
Every foster child will be placed in a “bed” somewhere. There are beds in child protection offices (even when there shouldn’t be). There are beds in group homes and shelters. There are beds in “those” foster houses - the ones you read about, the ones you don’t even want to think about. And then there are beds in a foster home. In a home where a bed comes attached with parents, with a family, with love.
I’m grateful he keeps saying yes to something that makes him uncomfortable, because He loves God and others more than he loves his own comfort. I’m grateful he’s opened his heart and home to all of the children who’ve come in and out. I’m grateful that he’s followed The Father’s example and become a father to the fatherless.
In three weeks a judge will take away her legal rights as this little girl’s mother. In a year, our daughter’s birth certificate will show my name as her only mother. This woman was first stripped of her relationship as mother, will soon be stripped of her rights as mother, but nothing can take her biology as mother.
I discovered that as I began to really share my heart, God began to really change my heart. Instead of regurgitating rehearsed words, my prayers became declarations of the beautiful truths of God’s character. And I started to believe them. Instead of being so-afraid-of-asking-for-the-wrong-thing-that-I-ultimately-asked-for-nothing, my prayers became times of just telling my God what it was I really wanted. And I started to want what He wanted even more. Instead of carefully crafting my words, my prayers became a child’s begging. And I started to trust Him as my Father.
In a very real sense, all of the children in my home are “mine.” In another—maybe even more real sense—none of them are mine.
I am passionate about being just an ordinary mom to my 4+ bio/adoptive/foster children. Loving my two foster daughters well is the best thing I can do to “fix the system.” But I am also passionate about helping give a voice to the other 150 million children who don’t have a mom loving them well. This is why I love The Archibald Project.
RANDY ALCORN shared my story on his blog. If you’re wondering how in all the world this happened, I’ll tell you exactly how it went down. I wrote my little blog post and sent it to him, 100% sure that he would never lay eyes on it but figuring I had nothing to lose. This is what is known as “swinging for the fences.” That was a sports analogy. I believe it was a baseball analogy.
James 1:27 is a call to VISIT orphans. It’s a call to spend time with, to play with and hug and feed and serve and know and care for orphans...If you have a burden for children in foster care but can’t be a foster parent, maybe you’re meant to be a foster “carer.” (Yes, it’s a real word. No, do not look it up.)
Many of my readers have asked questions about becoming licensed as foster parents, so Britt and Andy have volunteered to allow me to follow them through their licensing process. They've signed on to become the first official Foster the Family “reality blog” stars. You can just call them the Kardashians.
I'm thankful that every word I speak, every dish I scrub, every diaper I change, every spill I clean that's done out of love for my Savior is divinely transformed from a mom’s chore into a daughter’s worship.
To this little girl, “mommy” meant the female adult of the house, the lady who reached something you couldn't and refilled your juice. Having five “mommies” in five months, she hadn’t had the chance yet to learn what mommy meant.
“He who did not spare His own Son but gave him up for us all…” This is WHY I can give up a child I love. This is HOW I can give up a child I love.
This post is not a light-hearted story about my penchant for fainting. This post is about a call I just received. A six month old boy is being released from the hospital tomorrow...
While his little body should’ve still been safe in his mother’s womb, he was lying in a plastic crib, fighting off the poison he’d been fed for 32 weeks. At four weeks old, he was suffering through the painful withdraw that conquers grown men. At four pounds, his little heart was fighting to beat, his little lungs fighting to breathe.
James 1:27 is a beautiful verse about religion, about following God by loving others. The verse can be found in any Christian resource about adoption or foster care and is widely known as "the" orphan care verse. James 1:27 isn't necessarily about adoption or foster care, though. It's not necessarily a call to adopt or bring orphans into your home. James 1:27 is a call to VISIT orphans. It's a call to spend time with, to play with and hug and feed and serve and know and care for orphans.
The more I’m involved in this whole foster care thing, the more I see the need for GOOD, Christ-loving, gospel-centered foster parents. The state will find a place for these kids to stay. The question is what kind of place will it be?
