Matt and I were chatting yesterday after church. The babies were down for their naps a bit early. The older kids finishing a movie that helped me get ready for church earlier that morning.

He said it so clearly. Articulated with such wisdom.

We were mulling over why we Christians get in such funks. Satisfied with mediocre faith. Church attendance only. Going through the motions. We’ve all been there, but the conversation can’t just stop there. Else we run the risk of taking up residency there.

We’d landed that being challenged is certainly a key factor. But we don’t challenge ourselves. I’m certainly not going to push myself out of myself. We need someone else. Someone full of the Holy Spirit. Jesus speaking through someone.

And he hit it right on the head. We need someone to say, “Shouldn’t you be asking yourself if God wants that for you?”

You know, I’ve found in other peoples’ support a similar theme arise. The “that’s good for your family” theme. You know, it’s as if orphan care is a sole calling of my family. Or a few families. And their call is something else.

I used to think like that. Nursery care was my calling. You do the other stuff. Senior adult care is for you. Or those rowdy youth. Or crazy VBS kids. In fact, I’ll just fold the bulletins and sharpen the pencils. You mediate the funding argument. You pray for the terminally ill child.

Once He moved me past that phase I started praying for the terminally ill. Those with the life sentence and the failing lungs. Those that would most likely never get well. Those that went to see Jesus before I said my “amen”. Prayer became more than a “give me” fest. Prayer with it’s mystery slowly became comfortable. And the ‘no’s felt a little less stinging.

I started to pray for those missionaries I will never meet. The ones giving their lives overseas. The ones being tortured. I started reading some accounts. Those martyrs. Those starving to death to feed the lost. Prayers felt like portals. Intercession felt more alive. The mystery not so uncomfortable and unstable.

And suddenly my living room became a throne-room. Falling at His feet. Crying over injustice. Hurting for the aborted. Those who lost their life before taking a breath. Those stuck in sexual trafficking. Those little children lost in slavery. Doing sickening crimes. My stomach started churning. Such hurt. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. My prayer life had pushed me there. God was unveiling how much He wanted the lost and dying world… even when they’re still in their sin.

World Vision became an opportunity. An opportunity to be faceless and yet still foster Hope.

The orphan suddenly expanded to the helpless, the lost, the estranged, and the poor. The widow suddenly expanded into the hopeless, the stuck, and the ugliest least. The swept under the rug. The forgotten.

That’s what brought me to “my” boys. That’s what will bring you to “yours”.

It had nothing to do with comfort. It had nothing to do with ease. Or thrill. Or some kind of higher purpose.

It had everything to do with obedience.

When your Father calls. You say “here, I am, Lord. Send me.”

You don’t ask how much it’ll cost. You don’t weigh the heartache.

You don’t offer an alternative plan.

When you hear His voice. You RUN to meet Him.

It’s easy to get lost. I am not for foster care. I AM for Christ.

And He has brought me to fostering.

It would not have been my choice. I am not designed for fostering. I am not designed for mothering. I am designed for worship. And I worship through obedience.

He equips. He constructs. He ignites. He sustains. He recollects. And He rebuilds.

And it is through His love that I feel compelled.

Compelled to reach out to the orphan. Compelled to love the neighbor. Even when it’s not convenient. And when it’s frustrating. And when I just want to be “our family” without someone else calling the shots. Even when I just want to get away from always asking for help. Even when I want to be selfish and just hold my babies. Even when I’m jealous and don’t want him thinking so fondly of his mother when I know the choices she is knowingly making. Even when I am prideful and want to the world to acknowledge my struggle. Even when I want to hide because I don’t want exposed the worse version of my tired, undone self. I am compelled to run to the darkness. The Light cannot be contained.

I don’t have to fear losing myself. I AM.

I don’t have to fear walking a narrow path. I AM.

I don’t have to fear losing these boys. I AM.

I don’t have to fear never sleeping again. I AM.

I don’t have to fear life feeling disrupted. I AM.

It’s not my life to live.

It was crucified on the cross.

… And yet I live.

I Live.

Truly LIVE.

Not I but Christ that lives within me.

And I can do all things through Christ who gives me the strength that I need.

The strength that I need daily!

To daily set myself aside and say, “Yes, Lord. I choose to obey today.”

I don’t know what today holds. But I AM.