It's Real!
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 still feels a lot like babysitting. It feels anything but permanent, and there actually is a solid chance that we only have H for a few more days or maybe another month (and after our first tantrum-filled day, it's extra easy to root for the birth parents to get back on track and be reunited with H).
But in the midst of the chaos and change, I think the significance of this calling has mostly stayed at the top of our minds. Although it is exhausting, it has not been difficult to remember our singular goal: to make sure H knows he is loved -- loved by his birth parents, his foster parents, and his heavenly Parent.
P.S. Sorry if this is more flowery/philosophical than you're looking for. If you want straight info - just ask Beth (aka follow her Instagram stories).
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 still feels a lot like babysitting. It feels anything but permanent, and there actually is a solid chance that we only have H for a few more days or maybe another month (and after our first tantrum-filled day, it's extra easy to root for the birth parents to get back on track and be reunited with H).
But in the midst of the chaos and change, I think the significance of this calling has mostly stayed at the top of our minds. Although it is exhausting, it has not been difficult to remember our singular goal: to make sure H knows he is loved -- loved by his birth parents, his foster parents, and his heavenly Parent.
P.S. Sorry if this is more flowery/philosophical than you're looking for. If you want straight info - just ask Beth (aka follow her Instagram stories).
Comments
Post a Comment