Waiting

Our houseful of little people!

It’s a bitterly cold Tuesday morning and I’m waiting. The previous week we had gotten another call from the county. They had a sibling group of three needing a home. Would we be willing to take them?

I call Kyle with the details, already knowing what his answer will be. The joke between us the past few years as we’ve opened our home to foster kids is that it’s a good thing the county calls me and not Kyle. He’d say yes all the time, in every situation.

This weekend as I was planning for more kids, setting up beds, pulling out extra bedding and towels, buying more groceries and making sure there are enough night lights I wonder and worry: God, am I up to this challenge? Will I be able to handle these extra children? Will I still be able to do all the things I enjoy?

And I wait for an answer. Silence. I read my Bible, pray, read devotions. And then this morning I am struck between the eyes: In everything, give thanks.

Give thanks.

Lord, thank you for the gift of these children. Thank you for the gift of being able to care for them. Thank you for their parents, their teachers, their school that we get to drive them to each day. Thank you for allowing us to love them, even for a time.

And as I give thanks, the worry lessens. My concerns lessen. I come to God with open hands, waiting for him to fill them. I’m reminded that over the past five years we’ve had fifteen children come into our home. I pull out my photo album of all their pictures, smiling at the reminder of their little faces, quirky personalities, unique qualities. Some came for weeks, others months, and some have come to stay.

Give thanks.

I’ve heard the comment more than once over the past several years that Kyle and I must be wired for this, taking in children not our own. I’m not sure that we are. I get annoyed with my kids, argue with them, and get frustrated as much as anybody else. I read status updates on Facebook and think there are moms much more adept to handle children than me. So why do we do this? Why do we care?

“Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you. “ James 1:27

Take care of orphans. I cannot deny the truth of God’s word. For some this means adopting from our country or abroad, for others it's sponsoring children, volunteering with kids, or opening your home to your children's friends who need a stable place to turn toward. For us, this is done by bringing children into our home through the foster care system. Is it messy? Yes. Do I hear stories that I’d rather not know the details of? Yes. Do my children have an understanding of things that they otherwise wouldn’t if we didn’t open our home? Yes.

And yet we step into the muck that is this world. We run to it, not away from it. And although at times I would rather shut my doors and keep everyone I love locked up tight and safe inside, I know that God is out there. He is in the middle of people’s brokenness. And he’s calling us, beckoning us, to come outside with him.

I am not anybody’s savior, but I know the One who is.

I am not gifted for this work. God gives me what I need along the way. And I, imperfectly, love the least of these.

And so as I sit by my window, waiting for the children that will come to our home in the next few hours, I give thanks. I give thanks for new beginnings. I give thanks for that which I do not yet know.