Last Friday we welcomed our first
foster child into our home. The phone rang at 4:15pm and I was busy
baking cakes for my son's 4th birthday party. There were
layers of cakes on cooling racks strewn about, and one whole cake
already sitting with a crumb coat. Whenever my cell phone rings these
days my heart races because it's likely a realtor calling for another
showing of our house, or perhaps the most important kind of call, the
one from DSHS.
I knew her name immediately. They had
told us in training who makes the call for placements around here, so I
quickly grabbed my binder and a pencil so that I could go through the
questions that another foster family had shared with me. I had to
assure her that the crying in the background was just one of my
children in 'time out,' and we could continue to go through the
questions. We had about 35 minutes to deliberate because DSHS was
about to close. I called Caleb and we went through all of the
questions and answers together. We talked soberly and I tried to
answer his questions with what little info I had been given. The
first of many phone calls that will require a great deal of faith in
the Lord to go before us, and sustain us as we welcome kids into our
home.
I'll never forget what it felt like
walking up to the little guy. Adrenaline had been propelling me
forward, but the moment I saw him my steps slowed, and my heart felt
sluggish and nervous. I couldn't see his small face because he was
nuzzled into the side of a social worker. Everyone looked burnt out,
but they were kind and still upbeat. I cannot imagine having 30+
families as a case load, birth parents, foster parents, and innocent
children who are all clamoring at the Social Worker for aid and
assistance. They make so little money, and work an exorbitant amount
hours, and everyone though smiling had bags under their eyes. The
amount of paperwork alone appeared daunting much less the task of
calmly reigning in all of the emotions that come forth.
The next few days throughout the
weekend were a blur. We had a family birthday dinner for my son, then
a large birthday party with his peers on Sunday. We weren't sleeping,
and one of my friends pointed out that I would have to start getting
a break to take care of myself because the adrenaline was going to
wear out at some point. She was right. By Monday, I was weary
physically, but leaning so heavily on Jesus that things were still
fairly harmonious. This baby really attached to me, and that
certainly made it easier to have him around.
Knowing this reminds me to prayerfully
approach each placement seeking the Kingdom, because not all kids
will attach. Some kids, perhaps even most, will be completely
indignant and unappreciative. That's okay too. Caleb had a great
point, “there is absolutely nothing for us to gain in this.” He
couldn't be more correct. A friend of mine asked if there is
compensation. Sure, but after buying diapers, clothing, and spending
hours upon hours driving and sitting at appointments (medical,
dental, referrals, visitations, counseling,) the truth is that it
isn't a business. A business closes it's doors at night, it isn't up
rocking a child at midnight, then again at 4am, and then again at nap
time. This isn't a way to make money. I've never felt more fatigue
than I did this last week and health is worth more than a paycheck.
The most important thing for me
to highlight in this post is the love and support we received from
people rallying around our little family. Offers for shoes,
clothing, grocery runs, lattes and more poured in from those we do
life with locally. Members of our church brought meals all week, and
that hands down was an essential component to easing in to being a
family of six. By 5pm each day I could barely move, especially with
homeschool and running Allied not being put on hold too much. Each
day I would update my closest girlfriends, and share how God was
sustaining us and how near he was to us.
When our little guy transitioned to
live with a family member my kids and I sat down on the carpet just
before heading to DSHS, and each of them prayed for him. Clara mostly
mumbled. It was beautiful. So many people have asked how my kids did
adjusting to having a baby brother come in, and I am thankful to say
that this is a part of training them up. Caleb's parents had foster
kiddos also, and my dad cultivated the desire to provide aid for the
homeless and the destitute. We have never, by grace, departed from
that. Our children are learning what it means to strip away the
layers of selfishness that we all inherently embody. They're seeing
and living firsthand what it means to care for the widows and
orphans. We cannot approach this with trepidation because we know
Jesus is with us. Obedience is an act of love, not duty.
