I love how they feel compelled to always pick me flowers when they’re outside.
They don’t know they’re just dandelions
and I hope no one ever tells them,
To them, they are a bouquet of roses.
And I adore them.
It Pays Off
To declutter.
Start:
(No worries, this is not a typical location for the baby. We don’t keep her in the garage…. always. Tehehe.)
Finish:
So we can continue to fit like a glove.
Because loading 5 kids in the car while it’s raining is not on my agenda if it doesn’t have to be. 😉 I mean as much as I love the smell of musty, wet dog…. yeah. I love my garage.
Took me 3 hours from start to sweeping finish (keep in mind that it included a trip to the store to get a few more hooks, stopping to care for children, etc).
Guess
Guess who’s thrilled to be in the big tub with her sisters now?
My Word! Makes me want to grab her right out of that tub and smother her in kisses til she belly laughs.
And she’s THRILLED with the floating by buffet bar.
– Contagious Joy.
Wordless Wednesday: Serving
This morning I was served breakfast in bed.
And they were even thoughtful enough to bring my morning nurser some love.
And they didn’t want to disturb Daddy’s shower.
– Love their little hearts.
That I AM
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.
With Hugs
Big Guy,
I remember when you first came here. You were nervous. Would you need to take care of your baby brother? What is a foster home? “You are foster people!” you tried to make sense of it while talking to Rachael the next morning. But thank you for telling your worker that you felt comfortable here within an hour of meeting us for the first time. You were welcome before we knew your name.
I’m sorry about the lice and the baggy clothes. You were such a trooper. I don’t know what you came from, but you handled shots and dental care like a hero. Fillings are uncomfortable. Doctors are unfamiliar. And the ‘all new’s sure can overwhelm someone. Thank you for trying to sit so still through all the combings, and pickings, and recombings. And thank you for being brave while your hair was cut short. I know you didn’t want to. I didn’t want to either. But it had to be done. And now you no longer itch. We hope you never have to go through that again. You know, it’s funny how all that feels like an unreal bad dream when we look at you now.
I’m glad the spiderman border helped you feel loved. You matter so much to us. We were still just starting to get to know you back then. Feels like so long ago. We were just beginning to mesh together. Learning your favorite color, favorite foods, and favorite activities. We watched a lot of movies back then. Remember? You were still getting used to Rachael and Abi. New roommates are easier to handle with time. And it was still cold outside. And Little Man was sick.
It seems so long ago that all that happened. Such a blur. Introductions. Opening our arms and hearts.
And now it’s just like you’ve been here for years. We’re past the beginning rules. And on to the regular challenges.
You don’t put your hands up anymore. Remember that? You used to be scared when anyone would get into an argument. Now you know we’ll work it out. And we still love each other. And we’re going to keep each other safe.
You don’t need the closet light on anymore or the bedroom door left open. Remember that? I know, we still leave the closet light on. Helps to see Little Man when he sometimes needs a night bottle. But I’m glad you said you’re not scared to go to sleep anymore. And you jump into your bed with a hug without needing someone to sit with you. You’re so brave. And I hope if you do go back to Mom that you won’t feel scared to go to sleep there. Even if right now you’re still not sure.
I’m proud of you for making a friend (even if Daddy helped a bit). It’s so cool to get to see Bobby come over to play, even when he rings the doorbell while everyone’s napping. I’m glad he wants to see you. You are a great kid. You are A LOT of fun!
And honey, I know you hear me say this to you a lot, but that’s because I don’t want you to ever forget it… I love you. I love you so much and I care about you so much. I want you to be your best. And feel brave. And safe. And thank you for sharing with me when you don’t feel as brave.
I don’t know how long those adults at children’s services are going to be working with your Mom and Dad. And I know it’s a long time and feels like a long time. But thank you for being okay with staying with us for a long time while your Mom gets things done. And even if we’re only a stepping stone to renewed stability (you’ll understand what that means when you’re older), I’m really glad that you are with us. Yes, even when you get in trouble for bad choices. I’m still glad. Yes, even when we tell you to calm down and that you’re choosing to be annoying. We’re still glad that you are here with us. We are so blessed.
Thank you for asking me to push you on the swing. And hold your hand to play jumping games on the sidewalk. Thank you for running to show me a picture you drew at school or what you got from your Mom and Dad at visit.
I love being a part of your world.
I love you, Big Guy,
Always.
With Hugs,
Mommy Monica