living in my greatest fear

my greatest fears

1. snake bite

2. shark attack

3. one of my children being kidnapped

4. becoming a foster parent again and having one of the children leave after i’ve completely fallen in love with and become extremely attached to them

i’m fumbling through fear number four.  the weight of it often hits me as i make my way up the stairs and round the corner to our bedroom.  i’ve nearly collapsed several times.

foster care is meant to be temporary.

reunification is almost always the goal.

potential heartache is inevitable.

but Jesus calls us to follow Him, so we do.

i had a meeting this week, making a transition plan for our littlest man. a three day visit this weekend, which we’ve done before.  a five day visit for next week.

five days.

my heart is breaking.

our days are numbered.

the pain of that reality is sharp.

i don’t know how i’m continuing on in this everyday.

i think it’s got something to do with wanting to be obedient to my Father.  but this is not obedience of my own will.  i think it’s got something to do with Jesus living in me.

i’ve asked Him to break my heart for what breaks His, and He is.

he fell asleep in my arms the other night, right after finishing his nighttime bottle.  i didn’t want to put him in his crib.  i held him for 45 minutes.  when i finally laid him down, i stumbled to our bed and wept.  i cried myself to sleep.

i’m trying to take in as much as i can.  to smell him, to memorize the feel of his little body being held in my arms, to listen to his breathing right after he falls asleep, to video his babbling so we won’t forget what it sounds like, to feel his hand rest on top of mine and his other hand rest on my cheek as i feed him his bottle.



this love is big.

i don’t want to let go.


he stays, for now

he’s here.

he’s sleeping.

he fell asleep in my arms as i stood on our front porch and sang to him “Jesus loves me” and “it is well with my soul”.

“and Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight”

my faith.  Lord, increase my faith.

this world of foster care.  there is so much we cannot share.

we go back to court in about 30 days.  the plan is for custody, for all four children, to be determined that day.

a lot can happen in 30 days.

a lot can go right.

a lot can go wrong.

God already knows.  He’s already there.

and now we know we have at least 30 or so days to continue to love these children out of the love Jesus has for us and they have 30 or so days to still be together.

Jesus, help us do this well.

“The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
His understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and to Him who has no might He increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.”
~isaiah 40:28-31



He knows

today is the day we find out the next part of the story.

this afternoon i go to court.

does the baby stay?  or does he go?

does he leave today? or do we still have some time to love him and whisper the name of Jesus in his ear?

he’s sleeping right now, totally unaware of all that is going on.

in our minds, there are so many ways this thing could go.

in reality, there is one way.  and it is God’s way.

and His way is best.  no matter what.

no matter what we think.

no matter how we feel.

no matter what we want, or what we don’t want.

this story is His.

we are His.

these children are His.

for My thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways My ways, declares the Lord.
for as the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are My ways higher than your ways
    and My thoughts than your thoughts.

~isaiah 55:8-9


i trust You

during our meeting i held it together as best as i could.  i cried a bit, but didn’t want to let it all start to come out there.

when we left, i told josh i didn’t really want to talk about it yet because i knew i’d fall apart.

we walked to my van and his car.  he wrapped his arms around me, kissed me on the head, and told me he loved me.  the emotion of it all started to catch up with me and it took a few seconds before i could mutter back, “i love you too”.

i climbed into my giant van and began to cry.  the cries grew louder and louder.

“no, no, no, no, no,” i began to almost yell, over and over again as i hit the steering wheel with my fist.

“no, no, no, no, no”.

i started to drive.  i was so upset i wondered if i should wait a bit, but i didn’t want to sit in that parking lot any longer.

i drove and cried and said no so many times.

when i got to our exit on the highway, i felt a sense of calm come over my heart.

three months ago i was telling God i didn’t trust Him.

but on this day, after receiving this heavy and heartbreaking news,

after telling God no,

i was able to say outloud,

“i trust You”.



when we’re told the plan is for them to leave

we had a meeting.

we were told the plan is for them to leave.

and to be separated.

one to one parent, three to the other.

it’s the news i never wanted to hear.  the news i’ve prayed i would never hear.

yet, i heard it. and it hurt.

exactly three months ago today i wrote about being in the middle of things and now we may be close to the end.

for the baby, the end could come as early as tuesday.

my heart is broken.  my heart is heavy.

every single thing we do with him over these next few days, could be for the last time.

playing with him.

taking him for walks.

feeding him.

changing his diaper.

bathing him.

talking to him.

singing him to sleep.

this is the sacrifice i didn’t want to make.

this is the pain i didn’t want to feel.

we told our big kids last night.

they cried so loudly we had to tell them to quiet down.

that’s how great the potential pain of him leaving is.

it is loud.