I Will Bring Praise

Try to imagine for a second that you're watching your kids across a room. They don't know you're watching and you're really just taking them in, the image of them, the way they move and talk and play. Imagine the feeling you get in your heart and in the pit of your stomach, the overwhelming love you feel for them. The pride and fear and responsibility, but mainly the love. Now imagine not knowing if they'll be yours forever.

That's what it's like to be a foster parent.

At least that's what it's been like for us.

It's difficult to explain to someone who has never been a foster parent. Most people (strangers and good-intentioned friends alike) oftentimes can't comprehend the way we feel about our boys. They can't imagine loving someone else's child as much as they love their own biological children. Sometimes they make statements like, "It's different when you have your own," or "You will know what I mean when you have your own," or, "It's a different level of love when you've grown and given birth to your child."

I don't always have a patient and kind response response to this kind of thinking. I know that in most instances they honestly believe the words they are saying and they are absolutely not trying to minimize the love we have for the boys. Still, I have to call it what it is:

LIES.

They are lies. Statements like those are simply not true any more for me than they are for the person speaking them. It is 100% a lie that you cannot love a child that you have not given birth to the same way, amount, etc., than you would one that you have.

In most cases, I feel sorry for people who think these words are true. Sorry that they have limited their Creator's craftsmanship so much that they cannot fathom loving someone else's child the same as they would their own. Sad that they have closed off that part of their heart that might love a child who desperately needs it. Sad that they clearly do not know how much they, themselves, are loved by their adoptive Heavenly Father.

This weekend we got to open our home to the boys' 9-year old brother. We've been praying some big things in regards to the kids' family, and this is one way in many that we're being intentional about keeping the bonds between the boys and their family strong. It has been a beautiful, live-giving weekend for all of us. It has also ripped my heart to shreds.

Do you know what it feels like to sit in the possibility that as your family is being built another's is being dismantled? Do you have any idea the sadness, guilt and shame it's possible to feel when you are given the task, honor and responsibility to raise someone else's kids? (No need to point out why this is. Blaming and villainizing the boys'  family will never help them nor the situation). It doesn't matter why the boys are in our care. For whatever reason (and there are a multitude), they are. And yet, we do not know for how long.

And so we live each day loving them, teaching them, disciplining them, guiding them, comforting them, encouraging them, discipling them, praising them, RAISING them. And all the while we sing our Father's praises, knowing that He is our strength, our comforter, our shield. No matter the timeline, we have said, "Yes," and we will say it a thousand times again if He asks.

This brutal, beautiful life as a foster parent is worth it. The kids are worth it. Jesus is worth it.