the Morons

Imagine you are relaxing in your house when suddenly a stranger barges in, kidnaps you, and takes you to an unfamiliar place. The people holding you hostage are nice enough -- you are comfortable and well-fed -- but they don't let you wander far, and you don't understand why you're there in the first place. On top of that, they throw you into the car and take you someplace different every day, never telling you where you're going. Sometimes it's to some sort of camp that has other prisoners like you (it's not a terrible prison, considering there's a playground and all, but still). Other times they take you to a small room where you get to be reunited with your family for a little while, only to be torn once again from their embrace. You never know when you'll see them again or for how long. Each separation from them breaks another tiny bit of your heart. As dramatic as it may sound, I think this is exactly how little H is experiencing life right now....

When we missed our first-ever call from the foster agency a couple weeks ago, I thought that Jesus was telling us we weren't ready yet. As it turns out, He was simply priming our hearts. Last Thursday afternoon, we got another call. Beth did in fact remember to take her phone to work this time, so a few hours and a frantic Target run later, there was suddenly a two-year-old boy in our house. We'll call him H. It's been both everything and nothing like what we expected. "Nothing" in the sense that H is a perfectly healthy, super smart and well-behaved kid. I was definitely not expecting that. But "everything" in that it's been a roller coaster of emotions: eager to finally see what it's like to be parents; heavyhearted in witnessing the effects of splitting up a family; gratitude for many things, including our extremely supportive friends, neighbors, and co-workers; and exhaustion due to 12 daily hours of non-stop attention! To be honest, it...