Redeeming the Ordinary

Often I struggle to know what to share, what to write down, what to record.  There are so many things that happen every day with the kids (and everything else).  People remind us how important it is to share our story, but I don’t always see it.  We are so very ordinary.

After all, we wake up early & groggy in a regular home, a normal quiet neighborhood, load up our stuff and the kids & drive to work like everyone else, work hard all day long, then hop in the heavy flow of traffic toward home, feed the kids & play for awhile, hurry to finish chores after the kids are in bed, then rather anti-climatically, we crash pretty early and repeat the process the next morning.  (p.s. that long run-on sentence is sometimes what life feels like now!)  From the zoomed out view, it’s all rather trite and mundane.  But when I take the time to think, I know that isn’t true.  I know that when I make the time to breathe, to rest and slow down — God allows me to see all the beautiful ways our life has changed forever.  (another p.s. — I don’t think this is exclusive to our lives as Foster Parents, but all of us…)

Of course our life is chaotic, but there are so many beautiful moments.  Moments like when we are sitting in traffic and little brother starts up a very joyful, yet indistinguishable song — then little sister joins in.  They are both loud, off pitch, can’t really speak words yet, and it is perfect.  We also have so many sweet moments of both kids sitting in their beloved wagon, going for a walk in the neighborhood — both will be giggling, laughing, pointing at every critter and creature they see & waving at all the neighbors and shouting ‘bye!’ — please note, they’re saying ‘bye’ not ‘hi’ — it’s cute and bizarre.  I certainly cannot forget the sheer glee little brother has when he sees a garbage truck — it’s as though there is no other happiness in the world aside from that trash truck.  There are countless other beautiful moments — and often, I fail to cherish them.  I often fail as a father to look back throughout the day and ponder and reflect.  I get task-oriented and move on to the next item without giving myself the grace to enjoy the tremendous blessing this all has been to us thus far.

Truthfully, I want a different life — maybe a new way of living.  I don’t want to live in a manner that I don’t enjoy & cherish the memories as they’re being made.  I don’t want to be so focused on being efficient and getting things done that I miss out on the daily miracles in our home & lives.  So now that I am realizing this a bit more clearly, I need to make some changes (although I suspect I will come to this realization more than once, as I have wanted to slow down and enjoy before & at some point after, allowed myself to get swept up in the hustle and bustle).

We are nearing 4 months into this little adventure with Thing 1 and Thing 2 — and I don’t want to look back in a year, or five years or 15 years and not have tried to experience all the beautiful, miraculous things God is doing in these kids (and our) lives each day.

So here’s to a fresh refocus on my part — and an exploration in setting new boundaries for myself and learning once more, to prioritize well.  In the spirit of new beginnings — I want to cling to these passages from Scripture and hope they help me focus on the restoration God can, and wants to bring — I will pray for His help to surrender well.

Perhaps our life is ordinary — but if we slow down, it’s in the ordinary that I believe God shows us the most beautiful things.  He is able to make ordinary broken people & their lives quite beautiful when we surrender and trust Him completely.  He is redeeming the world around us, He is making things new each morning and bringing joy to our normal, ordinary, seemingly humdrum & unremarkable lives.  And for that, I am grateful today.

Lamentations 3:22-23 CSB:
“Because of the Lord’s faithful love
we do not perish,
for his mercies never end.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness!”

Psalm 30:4-5 ESV:
“Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints,
    and give thanks to his holy name.
For his anger is but for a moment,
    and his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may tarry for the night,
    but joy comes with the morning.”

Instant Parenthood

I love that title, it’s borrowed from a dear friend in Oklahoma (with some Bonus Boys) — and ironically fit with a blog post festering in my mind lately.

Being a foster parent can be a lot to swallow at times.  Gosh, even really thinking of yourself as a parent is a challenge.  For folks who have babies, they have months to prep and ease into parenthood.  And it’s still overwhelming then too!  But sometimes I wrestle with acknowledging myself as a parent.  I fear others would receive me viewing myself as a Dad, without birth kids yet, as cheapening their parenthood.  So sometimes I shy away from really thinking of myself as a Dad.

But the reality is, that’s not true or fair (to myself or the kids).  When you are up several times a night, when the whole family gets sick one after another in a week, when the 1-year old is getting 3 teeth in one day (and hasn’t really learned how to soothe or be comforted), when you have baby gates everywhere, when everything is baby proofed, when you have changed 3 diapers (on one kid) before leaving the house at 7am, when you have to think 8 steps ahead to avoid unnecessary 2-year old meltdowns… you’re a Dad.

When your back hurts inexplicably (but you know why…), you’re a Dad.  When you get just as sick as the kids were & you have to power through, you’re a Dad.  When you worry about coughs & congestion, and spend an absurd amount of your money on medicine to help, you’re a Dad.  When you are gently hold your hand on your nearly asleep baby girl, praying that God will help her grow up strong, brave & true — you are a Father.  It doesn’t matter if you had 9 months (or years) of preparation for the baby — or if like us, you had 3-4 hours of warning before everything changed. 

I may not be my children’s birth father, but I am their father.   My kids may have been a Friday morning surprise in February, but that doesn’t change our love for them and our hope that they can remain forever.  God has entrusted us with these precious children (and difficult children, let’s be real…) — and we are called to love them completely and accept them fully, just as God loves us.  The expectation is no different from parents who have given birth to children.  God loves these kids SO much more than we possibly could — and we are just His hands and feet to protect them, love them, guide them, shepherd them, make them laugh & love them.

That afternoon when the kids came home, we became parents.  It’s not always easy to remember, sometimes it still feels like it’s a dream we had — but it’s true — we are parents.

Instant parenthood is still parenthood
and foster parents are indeed, parents — Moms & Dads.

In all the overwhelming and fast change we have had, and keep having — a few verses come to mind often during the chaos & quiet.  I suspect they come to mind as a prompt from the Spirit to listen and ponder — I should listen more.  This is one of the verses that comes to mind most often:

“Because of the Lord’s faithful love
we do not perish,
for His mercies never end.
They are new every morning;
great is Your faithfulness!”

— Lamentations 3:22-23 CSB

He Knows My Name

“Now this is what the Lord says — the one who created you, Jacob, and the one who formed you, Israel — ‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are mine.'” Isaiah 43:1

On Friday night we sat in a circle with several other foster families and soaked in the wisdom of those much further along and with many more miles in their journey in Foster Care. It was a sweet night of learning and feeling encouraged. Over and over we were told to find a sweet community of foster families — and I am so thankful for One Heart.

As we sat there and questions were asked…stories were told…I was caught up in this Truth. The Lord delights in me. He delights in every couple or single mom in that circle. He delights in each kiddo accounted for by these families whether they are together forever or for a bit. He knows us and He is kind.

Not only does He know us, but He is never changing, so when the system isn’t consistent, He is. He knows us and our needs in each moment. When the behaviors of our sweet kiddos catch us off guard, He knows us and He cares for that moment. When babies are crying and there is no apparent reason…He cares! I’m so grateful.

After these realizations, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

He knows the birth families, too. He cares for them, even when trauma or dark situations get in their way of caring for these children. He cares for them. In their darkest day, He cares. In our darkest day, He cares. We are no different. He delights in each of us.

“…God delights in every detail of [your] life.” Psalm 37:23 NLT

This morning I was convicted by something my husband said. We were on our way to church, incredibly late, after a sleepless night and a long morning of tears and general fussiness.

“I wonder sometimes, if our hard moments are God trying to speak to our hearts and remind us that we can’t do this on our own strength, and we are trying to.”

Those were true words. That’s exactly what I’d been trying to do.

A little background information for those who don’t know me:

I like order. My classroom is a better representation of that than my t-shirt drawer, but nevertheless. When there isn’t order in places I feel like I should have control, I become frazzled, and when I am frazzled, doubt creeps in.

We know where doubt comes from.

So this morning. I doubted. I was frazzled.

“Why are they crying? What am I doing wrong?”
“Why won’t she sleep? What am I doing wrong?”
“Why are we late? Why couldn’t I get us together faster?”

The truth is this. When I doubt….When I question myself….I am putting the spotlight on me. It’s not about me. It never was, I never want it to be….when I pause from the frazzle and think about that, I remember. My strongest desire is for this journey (all of it, not just the foster care part) to be about Jesus…for the kiddos with us to experience His love through me.

Here’s to extending myself grace. Frazzled or not. So that I won’t get in the way of Christ in us, our only Hope.

He Who Promised.

One minute you are folding tiny laundry…and the next minute the Lord impresses words on your heart and you have to share. Enjoy.

A week ago was our first time to go to court. First placement. First court. Nothing really prepares you for sitting in the room with a judge at the front reading through papers describing the tragedy that brought you into that room. As I sat there listening to the legal-ese that was spoken I found myself feeling overwhelmed. I think other foster parents would agree.

I can easily say that this was the most overwhelming day of our placement. The first day when we were handed these two babies was less overwhelming for me in a lot of ways.

As we sat in that courtroom we heard our babies story re-hashed without emotion….without attachment. That was hard. I tried to write this blogpost right after we got home and my words were empty. In the past week I have been able to process and spend time in quiet thinking about WHY it hit so hard.

As parents, it is so natural…so expected to become attached. As foster parents that is absolutely true, too, but the rate in which this has happened has been unreal.

Two months ago I didn’t know these 2 babies existed. Today they are two of my greatest treasures. It happens quickly. There isn’t a warning, but it is so sweet. It feels like these babies have been in our home for far longer.

And I think that is why it’s all so difficult. There is so much unknown. How much longer will they stay? How many more hugs? How many more early (so, so early) bottles? How many more loads of tiny laundry? No one can answer that question and that’s when I become overwhelmed.

But, I can’t. I can’t be overwhelmed. Instead this reality has hit. Embrace each second. It’s so sweet that the Lord keeps reminding me of His faithfulness throughout this season. He has sent meals…and people…and financial support. Sometimes I am surprised and then I slow down enough to remember that He promised to love me and care for me…and He who promised is always faithful.

I am so grateful for the giggles, the tickles, the early bottles and sweet snuggles. This story Jesus is faithfully writing for us is so sweet. I feel so unworthy…but He promised and He will be faithful to us. So, we trust as He writes each word of our story (all 4 of us and Beau the Border Collie).