by R. Potatoes
It was a crazy busy Friday. I was out running errands when the case worker called, “We have a large sibling set that just came into DFCS custody. I don’t have any details on them but can you take some of them?” The answer is always yes.
Late that night, two completely traumatized little ones were dropped off with nothing but a grocery bag full of dirty clothes (two sizes too small). In a snap, we were thrust back into the stage of blow out diapers, large baby equipment, car seat acrobatics, bottles, tantrums, and very very very sleepless nights. Our extraordinarily tiny home became a revolving door of case workers, lawyers, and therapists. Our calendar was filled with doctors appointments, court dates, family visits, sibling visits, and home studies.
We were absolutely not enough (nor equipped) for what the next several weeks threw at us from every angle, but God was. Those sleepless nights – full of frustration and snide remarks over whose “turn” it was – slowly turned into the quiet time when we’ve prayed some of our most vulnerable prayers. We prayed for the endurance, wisdom, and strength necessary to parent and disciple these little image-bearers. God has met us there, every time!
Foster parenting has a special way of putting a magnifying glass on our fleshly sin: the kind of anger we have to work through towards birth parents and the broken system as a whole, the selfishness in mourning that we will not be around to experience the fruit of the seeds we are planting, the desire for appreciation that never comes, the envy towards people who are not called to this life and don’t have to expose their families to unimaginable brokenness and trauma. We are constantly repenting from these sins that marinate deep in our hearts. He consistently humbles us to our core, and gracefully meets us where we are.
No matter what season of parenting you are in, God is always there waiting for you to lean into Him. He promises to give us wisdom when we ask, so don’t leave his promises on the table.