Unexpected life

So...remember the "placement that almost was?"  As many of you know from my Facebook page, he is now the placement that IS.  Meaning, an 11-month old little boy now lives at my house.  Christmas Eve will mark 2 full weeks with me.

In brief, it has been:

• A whirlwind
• Crazy
• Frustrating
• Tiring
• Wonderful

Little man came to me teething, sick, and scared as I was adjusting to no longer being just a single woman living alone.  Total life change for both of us.  It was ROUGH.  There were tears from both of us.  Then I got his cold and it got even harder.

Through the faithful prayers of friends and the listening ears of friends and my wonderful Mom and amazing helping hands, we made it through those first days.  

Now, I have a happy, healthy, giggly, BIG baby who is keeping me on my toes!  He's doing great at daycare and sleeps through the night like a rock star.  Tomorrow he has his first visit with his biological mom at a nearby park and then Sunday we fly to Indiana for 9 days for Christmas.  Prayers would be appreciated for both of those events.  I consider myself an expert packer and traveler, but this is a whole new ball of wax!  We fly at bedtime, so pray that my little rock star is able to sleep in my arms during the flight and transition well to the car and then to bed at my parent's house Sunday night.

PS - if you would like to see pictures of Baby H, message me and I'll send you a private link to a page of pics!

Feeling Like a Dud Foster Parent

So here's the thing.  I'm struggling with some guilt this week.  Not because of the 2 babies I almost got last week - as scary as it was, I was going to take them.

It's from the kids I turned down this week.  Even typing that sentence makes my heart twist.

During orientation and foster parent classes it was reiterated to us to know our limits.  Don't take a placement you know you can't handle or you are not set up for out of guilt.

Now I know why.  Because in the moment your heart aches, you may cry for the child - and you still have to say no.  It's AWFUL.

I decided that I would take either gender of child, ages 3 and under.  This week I have been called about a 6 year old boy, an almost 5 year old girl, and a 4 year old boy.

 There were multiple reasons I couldn't take these kids.  A big one is the age - since Christmas is just a few weeks away, I didn't want to take in a child and then leave them for 9 days and/or take them on a plane ride away to Indiana, completely disrupting their lives (not to mention a serious blow to my savings - last minute plane tickets, anyone?).  I'm not set up for older kids.  I have baby and toddler toys, clothes, etc...  One of the children was ready to be adopted.  I knew that I wasn't right for that.  I'm not ready to immediately adopt.  I'm not going into this to adopt every child.  If God opens that door and it is what is best for that child, then I will do it - but it is not my goal.  My goal is to offer a safe and loving home to children and be Jesus to them and their families.  Another child acts out sexually.  I am not ready for that.  Realistically, I'm 29, single, and chaste.  I have no training in this realm.  I know enough to know that this is out of my league (right now - I do want to be better equipped to help children who have been sexually abused someday).

So I feel like a dud foster parent.  A small part of me fears they will stop calling me if I keep saying no. The rational part of me reminds me that I did tell them 3 and under...that they know I will be here constantly from January on...that I even told them my preference to take any challenges except sexual abuse to begin with.  My heart aches for these little ones.  I pray that they found amazing homes for them.

I will continue to wait and jump 10 feet out of my skin every time my phone rings.  And relying on the beautiful prayers and encouragement of my family and friends.  And gaining some strength by re-watching this video:

I realize that this post and my last may make it seem as though I'm positively miserable.  While I may be jumpy when the phone rings, all in all I'm having a lovely Christmas season and enjoying time with friends.  Christmas shopping is done, goodies have been baked, and parties forthcoming.  Life is good, Jesus is amazing.  

The placement that almost was...and the one after

Last week I got THE call.  A 10 month old baby boy needed a home.  Would I be willing to take him the next day?

Excitement.  Fear.  Crazy running around.  I couldn't focus the whole rest of the day.  I was giddy.  I was nervous.  I texted everyone I could think of.  I posted on Facebook (161 likes and 56 comments, to date).  I kept thinking of all the things I didn't know about 10 month olds!  I talked to his social worker and she seemed so nice and excited I was taking him.  She'd been his case worker since birth and she seemed really fond of him.

My friend Emily came home with me that night and we cleaned, I bought bottles and snacks.  We switched the furniture in the kids' rooms so that the crib would be in the boy room - all of which involved removing the doors from their hinges because I couldn't find my allen wrench to take the crib apart.  I moved all the breakable ornaments on my Christmas tree up a few feet.  We washed all the boy clothes I had.

He was to come at 3 p.m on Friday.

I stayed home that day.  I watched a Beth Moore Bible study.  I cried.  I prayed.  I giggled.  By early afternoon I was so antsy that I went and got some bananas (good, basic, baby food) and some Chick Fil-A.  I know some of workers and they could tell I was particularly high strung, so they inquired, rejoiced with me and gave me free cookies.

Let me just take an aside here and say I am still overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, prayers, and well wishes I received about this.  WOW.  God is so good to me.

2:45 pm rolled around.  I was just finishing up my sandwich when my phone rang.  I looked in the driveway to see if maybe they were pulling in.  Nope.  I answered the phone.  The case worker, sounding very apologetic, told me that the judge had ruled that baby boy should go to a family member.  The day before it seemed like there were no family members left to take him.  I'm happy for him, truly I am - it's wonderful he still has family who loves him and will take care of him.

But boy was I disappointed.  And feeling like my Chick Fil-A cookies were now undeserved and shouldn't be eaten and that I had cried wolf on Facebook and text messages.  (I did eat the cookies though - I needed the chocolate).

A short time after I was called for a 2 month old boy.  I was so overwhelmed and confused by so many emotions at this point.  For over 24 hours I had been waiting for one baby boy.  Now, I'm asked to decide on another.  I asked for a couple minutes to pray about it.  I prayed, I knew - I would take him.  But my phone rang again before I could call them back (less than 2 minutes had passed) - a family was there dropping some things off, they were going to take the 2 month old baby home with them.

Roller coaster of emotions.

So here it is, 1 week later and I still don't have a placement and I'm feeling pretty sure again, that I won't have a placement until after I return from Indiana at Christmas.

Then again, who knows?

Life is happening!

• Approximately 1 year and 10 months since my boss said the immortal words, "We think you should pray about becoming a foster parent."

• 1 year, 5 months, and 16 days since I first told my parents I was going to become a foster parent.

• 7 months and 28 days since Foster Parent Orientation.

• 5 months and 2 days since I finished Foster Parenting classes.

• 4 months and 19 days since my Home Study.

While I was out of the country, out of phone reach, out of email reach - a message was left waiting for me on Wednesday, the 24th.  And this was waiting for me when I pulled in my drive this afternoon:

I will talk more with my licensing counselor this week about timing of taking placements - but it's for real now folks!  The State of Florida has deemed me fit.  I am praying that the Lord will equip me with everything I need to be so much more than the minimum that state requires.  Both the hardest and the greatest is ahead.

Thank you to all who have been praying with me in the journey thus far.

Time keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking...

Here is what I have.  Time.  Lots o' time on me wee little Irish hands.

Okay,  technically they are German-English-French-Irish American hands, but that takes longer to type.

Which I've now typed.  But it's okay, because I have the time to type it.  Catching on?

After 3 months in the local office, my application finally (!) got sent on to The Children's Network.  Last week, I was emailed some corrections and additional papers to sign for things to be finished up with them.  Currently, I have no idea where my application is!  Children's Network?  Florida Baptist?  DCFS?  No clue.  Every part of me wants to email my licensing counselor every day and ask.  But I'm trying to squelch that desire.

When I was getting ready for college I never called the school once with questions.  Never once.  Didn't occur to me.  I just figured I would learn what I needed to know when I needed to know it.  Same thing when I moved down to start with NMSI.  I don't think I ever emailed or called.  That was just how I rolled.  I went with it.

But now, right now - it takes everything in me not to call or email every second of every day.  Outwardly I project calm.  Inwardly, the wheels are turning.  When am I going to get licensed?  Why is it taking so long?  When am I going to get a placement?  Should I get a placement?  Am I really fit to be a parent?  Can I handle all these changes?  Will I turn into a crazy-eyed monster without sleep?  This is what happens when you have time on your hands.  Too much thinking!

The reality is, I have no idea when I'll get my first placement and I've stopped guessing.  I wrote my first post in this blog almost a year ago.  I decided to become a foster parent almost 2 years ago.  I'm still deeply excited and deeply terrified.  The reality is that I will be heading back to Indiana for 10 days at Thanksgiving for a conference, my best friend's wedding, and the holiday.  Then a few short weeks later return for Christmas.  That makes placement (if I do get my license somewhere in there) tricky.  Realistically 2012 will probably not be the year I become a foster parent.  I'm boxing up my dreams of sharing Christmas (my absolute favorite holiday) with a little one until next year.

With all this time on my hands, I do sometimes wander into doubting God's timing.  Yet, I work in a ministry where I see God's perfect timing play out time and again.  I'm thankful for that reassurance.  As the old saying goes, "I don't know what the future holds, but I know Who holds the future."  Praise God for that.

And I'll try to limit my emails and phone calls.

12 weeks...

and counting.   My application is still at the local office.  Sitting.  With several others.  It's been 4 weeks since I last posted and my status hasn't changed.

Life hasn't stopped though.

I've been to Kenya and back - awesome - amazing time.

Also, I currently have members of a Christian rock band (and wives!) sleeping on my pull-out sofa and in my guest room this week.  Their housing fell through at the last minute and since I currently don't have any foster kids, I could open up my home to the folks of Willet.  They play at Crosspoint tonight and it's been fun hosting them the past couple of days - it's not everyday you can say that you have a band sleeping on your couch!  They're great people and they have an AMAZING heart for service.  Great people, check them out - their song, "You are not just holy" is one of my favorites.  You can give it a listen on their website and see some of the awesome ministries they have started.  

That said, I AM thankful that God has been giving me many opportunities to use my house to bless people before I have foster children.  I know God is using this time to shape me into the Mom I need to be for whatever children He has for me to care for - just pray that I can have patience!!

If I had a nickel...

for every time I get asked:

• How's your adoption going? 

I would be rich.  The question, however well meaning, is inaccurate - I'm fostering!

Then again, if I got a nickel lately for every time lately I've been asked:

• When are you getting your first foster child?

I would still be rich!

It's honestly been a question I needed to address here but I've been dragging my feet.  Hurry up and wait is the name of the game these days.

I was so confident at the beginning of July.  I had just finished my second home study and been told that my file would be 1 week at the local office and then sent off to the Children's Network, where it would be another 3ish weeks.   That put me at getting my license early to mid-August, easily.  Since I had a trip to Kenya (leaving tomorrow!) I was confident telling people I would get my first child in early September.  

I should have known better.  You always hear the stories about it taking forever, delays, unexpected paperwork, lost paperwork, expired paperwork - but you listen to the stories from those who it took a month from home study to placement.   You hope and you make a timeline - one that makes sense, one that works for you.  

But life is messy.  And God's timing is very different than my own.  Right now I am sitting at 7 (seven!) weeks of my file being at the local office.  Even if it is sent early next week, I'm still looking at least another month.  

So now I have some decisions to make.  Because it's not neat and tidy in my mind anymore.  Here are the points I'm pondering:

• I have a conference at the end of October and I had originally thought taking a child with me would be doable, but because of short timing and a few international stops it's not a possibility.  I don't want to get a child and then turn around just a week or two later and leave them for a week.
• Rachel's wedding in Indiana at Thanksgiving time.  I will be going regardless.  Will I have enough time to get it squared away for me to take a child with me?  Will I need to get respite care instead?
• Christmas.  Hopefully less of an issue.  I will hopefully have enough time to square all of this away.

A few days ago I was sure that the decision would be to wait until after the New Year to begin.  Then, a few discussions later, maybe after the October conference.  Some have suggested that I do respite care  (giving care for foster kids when other foster parents need to travel or a break) until the conference or until the end of the year.  I'm mixed on that right now.  A huge part of me just wants to start.  For real start.  Not a few days in and a few days out.  But there is a need.  

So I have a lot to pray about and I also just have to wait and see when my license actually comes.  

So the answer to the question of when is I don't know.  At the end of last week I had quite a few frustrated tears over this.  But as for today,  I wait and pray, knowing God's timing is perfect - though I often wish He would let me borrow His watch!   Now, with some perspective, I am thankful for a little more time to prepare.  God is good.

Tomorrow I leave for Kenya to love on some kids.  I'm praying that my home is in one piece when I return (please be nice, Hurricane Isaac).   

After that, who knows?!  I'll keep you all posted.

Something beautiful

Something beautiful has happened this past year.  A whole lot of people I leaned on hard left the year before.  That's not the beautiful.

The beautiful is this:

I call home more often.  Just to chat.  Or ask for advice.  Or on really, really hard days, just to have my Momma or Daddy tell me that I'm alright.

And sometimes I think about calling them "just because" but talk myself out of it because we just talked!

I've always been fiercely independent girl.  I've heard that you naturally go back to your parents for more and more bits of wisdom as you get older, as you become a parent.  I'm doing both, so it makes sense.

But this is my stop and smell the roses moment.  Because I am so thankful for the luxury I have been given in wonderful, Godly parents.  I'm thankful to have them to call.  I'm thankful for the prayers of so many.  I'm thankful for good friends and siblings who encourage.  I'm thankful for my niece who popped on Skype the other day just to tell me she missed me and as we chatted, told me she thinks I'm going to make a great mom.

How blessed can a girl get?

Ode to Peanut Butter

Tonight, I made these (okay, someone else made these, mine are still firming up in the freezer)

while belting out 'Til I See You and Hosanna at the top of my lungs (thank you Pandora).

This is the second time I've made them in a week.  Don't judge.  My department is doing an offsite at my house tomorrow.  And people really like them.  And then they like me.  I mean, um...they're just really, really good, and easy!

And can I tell you all a secret?  I think peanut butter is the bomb.  (Do people still say, "the bomb?"  "Da" bomb?)  Seriously.  I used to think it was silly that the food missionaries always stereotypically want brought to them is peanut butter.  Not any more.  I don't eat peanut butter sandwiches - but Thai Peanut chicken?  Peanut butter chocolate chip cookies?  Buckeye bark?  Be still my heart.

Another secret?  Since jr. high, I haven't measured peanut butter once.  Nope.  I just grab a big spoon, pull up a scoop and compare it to a measuring cup, while the cup stays blissfully un-peanut buttered.  It was laziness really.  Who likes to clean out peanut butter from crevices?  Not this girl.  But now, I think I'm a bit smug in saying, I am an awesome peanut-butter-measurer-eyeballer.  It's a thing.  Next winter olympics, wait and see.

Peter Pan.  How I love you.  A Disney hinted treat from my whole childhood.  Mom always told me that peanut butter was not something you bought the cheap-o brand of.  You can taste the difference!  She bought this in a 48938378291 gallon tub at Sam's Club when I was growing up.  Huge.  I was always a little nervous of dropping that on my toes.  But I never did.  I dropped whole watermelon once (home alone, trying to be too big for my britches), but never the peanut butter.  I recently bought, not one, but two of the big old 40 oz tubs in creamy.  And I already had a 40 oz tub of crunchy.  They were BOGO, I couldn't resist.  If I ever move overseas and you visit me - well you know what to bring.

Now all I have to say is:  "Dear Lord, please let my kids be blissfully un-allergic to peanut butter!

and strawberries.

and gluten, please, please let them be able to eat gluten!

Let's face it, Lord, I want my kids to be foodies too.

Amen."

Doubt

No one could have prepared me for the level of doubt I have encountered the closer I have gotten to parenthood.

The tears.  The fear.

The "Oh my goodness what if the child spikes a fever and I don't have a thermometer and that whole rectal temperature just sounds gross and cruel and how on earth do you potty train boys and what if I get a drug addicted baby that never stops crying and I go back to the crazy-eyed intense insomnia Abigail that forgets everything and fights a constant bad mood that existed in college and I can't keep up and I just end up being really bad at what everyone has always said I'll be really good at and then what and can I really do this, just me and God and a whole lot of caffeine" monologue that starts up right around the time I close my eyes to sleep at night.

I have doubts that I can do this alone.  I have doubts that I will be the kind of parent that I've always envisioned.  That I'll let stress get to me.  Or my house will be a hot mess.  Or I won't have the answers to their questions.  I won't know how to guide them, to show them how to love Jesus and love others.

I have doubts. I have fears.

But they're normal, right?  This is a big deal.  I'm becoming a parent.  To broken kids.  From broken families.

And somehow, through the strength that I can only assume that God will give me, I'll parent and I'll do everything I can to help bring restoration for those kids and their families.

Pair of Ducks

Just call me Bipolar Momma.

Actually, no.  Please don't call me that.

I am living, walking, breathing paradoxes right now.

When I finished my last Foster Parenting class on Tuesday, my instructor asked me if I was excited.  It was clear how she came to that conclusion, I was bouncing, smiling, and chatting excitedly with my classmates.  But what was my response?

"I'm terrified!"  Granted, I was still smiling and excited.  I was both.  Fully and completely.

Welcome to paradox.

Life is filled with them.  We teach children in global transition (I work* in missions) about paradox using a wonderful example from MTI - "Pair of Ducks."  It's having a Yay Duck and a Yuck Duck at the same time.  Excited and scared.  Happy and Sad.  Angry and peaceful.  Those ducks come in handy.  Even adults connect with that "pair of ducks" when they find themselves in life's paradoxes.

Tonight I shared a long list with my roommate and then my Mom about how scared I am - of failure, of the unknown, of so many details that I don't know where to begin.  And then I later found myself telling my roommate about my scheduled 1st Home Study visit (June 5th, pray it up!) and found myself inexplicably grinning.  Excitement.  Over my home study.  That I think I should at least have some nervousness about.

Oh paradox.

I'm so confused.  But I'm pretty sure confusion goes right along with any parenting.



(*I got flak recently from a total stranger for saying "work" instead of "I minister."  Honestly, it's semantics.  It is my ministry.  And I love it.  And it's my life's work.  And it is hard work.  Please don't yell at someone over semantics.  Your pastor works at your church.  It's his ministry.  See? It is work.  It's is ministry.  It's both.  It's semantics.  And it's just easier and quicker and often feels a whole lot less pretentious to say "I work."  Because I don't see myself as the amazing wonder-woman missionary.  I see the people who day-in, day-out, faithfully serve God and share Christ in whatever their circumstance - they are my superheroes.)  - Stepping off soapbox.

Incoherent ramblings from a woman who is NOT Wonder Woman.

I met with a couple today who recently affiliated with our organization.  They have been called to work in Cambodia with Rapha House, an amazing organization that works to fight child trafficking and sexual exploitation.  It, to me, is mind-blowingly amazing work.  There is a certain grandeur in my mind associated with this kind of work.

But I have a strong feeling, it won't feel that way when they are in it.

My friends who have fostered for years - that's superhero work.  Working with these children coming from desperate situations - how above my boring day to day.  They are superheroes.

And I think there have been times in the past that it's flitted through my mind, "Wow, I'm really going to be doing something amazing here.  Look at me, really sacrificing.  Doing something huge and great for these children, and heck, for society as a whole."

As it comes closer though, I'm drawn back to reality.  Right now, I'm realizing that I only have about 4 months.  4 months to prepare, to move houses, to organize and figure out my life (what?  Is that even possible?  No).

I don't think that when you are in the midst of something, you can ever really grasp it.  I don't think Mother Theresa looked up from the slums and thought, "Wow, I'm really changing lives here.  Look at this amazing thing that God is doing through me."

I have no idea what my life will look like later this year.  I may be changing diapers, drying tears, or trying to calm a child in an angry rage they don't even fully understand.  I hope that I will be doing good.  I hope that I will be helping them grow and have a positive impact on their life, even if they are only with me for a day.  But I don't think I'll see greatness.  I think I'll just see life.  Maybe someday I'll be given glimpses of how Christ was at work the whole time and how I was able to be a part of it.

What am I trying to say?  I have no delusions of grandeur.  I see people do great and amazing things all over the world and yet, I don't think a single one of them can see it from the midst of it all.  For our future workers in Cambodia, I don't think they will see what I see - "wow, look at them being a part of changing these young girls' entire future.  Look at them help shape a country for the better."  No, they won't see that, because they will be in the midst of it, working with broken girls, helping reshape their lives.  Helping them heal from deep, painful hurts.  And all you can do at that point is try to help mend a broken heart, one piece at a time.

That's what I'm going to try with all my heart to do.  Help mend broken hearts of children and their families, however I can, on piece at a time.

Prayer for my foster child

Tonight the journey begins.  I will be attending Foster Parent Orientation.  Next week I will begin 10 weeks worth of classes, to be followed by paperwork, background checks, fingerprinting, paperwork, home studies, and yes, more paperwork.

Theoretically, you could say I'm in my "2nd Trimester."  Of course my baby could be a 3 year old or siblings, or, yes, an infant.

As I face this reality, I am growing more aware that my child, the child (or children) God has planned for me to be Momma too, they are alive right now.  And they are likely facing whatever it is that causes them to be separated from their biological parents.  That is an overwhelming prospect that I can do nothing about myself.  The thought that they may be scared or abused this very moment breaks my heart.

So I pray - the only and most effective thing I can do.

Heavenly Daddy, 

Please protect the children You already know will be entrusted to me.

If they are in a home of abuse, please shield them from it.  Surround them with a shield that causes them to not see abuse done to others and protect their own bodies from harm.

Let their ears not hear angry and vile words sent out to tear them down.

Let them feel love from somewhere, even if they are in a loveless home.

Let them be shielded from drugs and other inappropriate substances.

Lord, if they are still in the womb right now, protect their forming bodies from substances that could destroy their futures.  Work a miracle and block those toxins from hurting them.  

Guard their hearts and their minds.  Help them to know how to love and attach.  

Work in ways I could never understand to help these children grow into fabulous, strong, and smart individuals with a passion for life and for You.  

God, help me to be the momma that they need.  For however long they need.  Give me strength to understand their needs and to love them well.  

Protect my children I've never met Lord.  Hold them tight in Your hand until I can hold them in my arms.  

In Jesus' precious name,

Amen.

God is with me

All along this journey, so far, I have had peace from God about this decision.  And occasionally, I get little affirmations along the way.

Recent ones include:

• The classes for Fostering are going to be hosted (for the first time ever) at my own church.  What a blessing to be at one of the places I feel at home among, hopefully, others I fellowship with weekly!
• I was hoping to buy a small baby swing at a local children's thrift store.  The owner asked me if I sewed (of course...Mom was a home ec. teacher, after all!) and then told me it was missing a small piece but it just needed someone who could sew a new one on.  Because of that he couldn't sell it to me, but he could give it to me!  Free swing!
• Amazing connection!  A friend of mine read this blog and connected me with her sister-in-law on Facebook.  She has been doing single momma foster parenting for 4 years now.  What a blessing to be encouraged by her story and have her as a connection, kindred spirit, and resource.  Read her blog, seriously, do it.

God is so good to me!

Beautiful sight to my eyes

This past Sunday, I was handed this info card at church.  The note at the bottom made my heart leap.

This is happening!  Orientation is the last Tuesday of this month, then I have 10 weeks of classes, every Tuesday.  

Wow.

When life gets complicated

It was a simple plan, if there is such a thing.  I would start fostering in the summer of 2012.  And that was that.  I would work during the day and be a full-time mom every night and weekend.  Day care would be necessary, but I would be around at all other times.  I was moving forward!

Then our Africa regional director (I work for a Missionary Sending organization, NMSI) told me they were almost set in getting me to go to our Africa regional this year in Kenya - in late August to run the children's programming during the conference.

Our Asia regional director has told me they are still trying to work it out, but it's a possibility - in September.

I was told that our regional retreat would probably be out of the country for at least 11 days.  11 days!?

And all I could think was, "What about my kids?"  In case you don't know, you can't just take foster kids out of the country.  It just doesn't happen.  You can get special permissions to take them out of state (fingers crossed for Christmas!) but out of the country is a definite no-go.

So life gets complicated.  But as someone recently reassured me, "good foster parents are hard to come by."  So I press forward, to hopefully be a good foster parent, who does as much as she can, when she can, to whoever she is given.



*edit:  Sarah just let me know that you can actually take a foster child out of the country, it's just a very involved process (i.e. paperwork, court dates, etc...).

The day I become a Momma...

I've thought a lot about the first day I will have a foster child.  Because it struck me one day, that day will be the day I become a Mom.  Forever and always.

I firmly believe that once you are a mom, you always are.  You would never tell a woman whose child has died that they are no longer a mom.  Because you are a mom for life.

And I'm committed to being 100% a mom to every child I am given for as long as they are with me.

My sweet friend Rachel  once told me, "You are already a mom, you just don't have any children yet."  That meant so much to me.

But I do wonder, if, in the moment of picking up my first foster child, I will be aware enough of that life changing moment.  Because, you, child, whoever you are, are going to change who I am forever.  Right now I am many things - daughter, sister, baker, missionary, Abigail, Abby, etc... but on that day, I will forever add 'Mother' to that list.

And oh, my heart breaks for whatever situation brings that child to me.  But I hope I won't forget to be grateful for the chance I'm being given.  And I will take every moment I can to pour love into that child.

How it all started, part 2

5 years ago, I sat with my co-worker, as he shared with tears in his eyes, his and his wife's desire to have children.  I began to pray for them.

A little over a year later they welcomed their first foster child into their home.  24 hours later the child was returned to his home.  They began the see-saw that is foster parenting.  And while I admired them for it, I still had no desire to ever make that a part of my life.

I've watched their story continue to play out as they have welcomed many children into their home.  Their story is here.  It is well worth the 4 minutes.  Please watch it.  

Last year, I had moved into a house with two friends.  My boss and her husband had just begun foster parenting classes to start their own journey - also hoping to start their family, much like my friends had 4 years ago.  My boss came to me the morning after one of their classes and said words that ended up changing my life, "Did you know they want single mom foster parents?  We thought of you and we think you should pray about it."

So I did.  And my heart was broken for the thousands of children in limbo all around our nation.  I prayed for months until it became clear that this was what was next for me.

I had and continue to have peace over this decision.  When my lease is up this June, my remaining roommate and I will part ways and I will move into a two-bedroom home (which is a story in and of itself).

From there, I will do my best to be a light in the world of whatever child is put in my path.  I will be their Momma, for as long as God calls me to be.