The Blessed Burden

I firmly believe that God hand picks certain individuals to whom He reveals certain aspects of His heart. Parents, in general, are some of those individuals. Once you become a parent, you most definitely understand a little more about the ridiculously irrational unconditional love of our Heavenly Father. But, I also understand that there are certain people that are just simply privy to more of God's heart. Certainly He reveals Himself to all of us in different ways - but as I worshipped beside one of my dearest friends this morning, I encountered a revelation that moved me to tears. 

This friend and her sweet husband have said yes to one of the hardest things I think I could ever imagine. Not only have they said yes to loving other people's children as their own, but they have said yes to loving children that, if we're being quite frank, don't seem to deserve it. Knowing this precious friend, I'm certain she won't mind me sharing just a bit of what she deals with on a mostly daily basis. These children she has said yes to loving have, without a doubt, wreaked havoc in their home. Holes in the wall, broken beds, torn off blinds, pee and poop in the bathroom (not inside of the fixture in the bathroom to which it belongs), just to name a few. And then there's the spitting, the name calling, the cursing, the screaming, hissing, or growling, and the threats made. Most people would have said, "See ya!" by now. They would have picked up the phone and unashamedly pleaded, "Please, come get this child!" And to be honest, most wouldn't blame them. 

But...they haven't. They have stuck it out and have fought and are fighting for these kids. They aren't just fighting for the kids in a physical sense (for proper psychiatric care, medical care, education, and adoption) but they are fighting for their very souls. As I stood next to her listening to her quiet sniffles as she broke down and cried out to God as she does every day, it became apparent to me that God is revealing Himself to her in a way that I imagine very few are privileged to. The way that she loves those children despite all the chaos and discomfort and emotional stress that it causes has to be the closest earthly example I have seen to how God loves us. 

Oh, friend. How he loves us so. Like those precious children, we can be some of the most burdensome creatures. Our Heavenly Father loves us like crazy and He daily fights for our souls. And yet, so many of us spit in His face, we take it out on Him when things don't go our way. We curse Him and yell at Him and make it nearly impossible to love us. And yet, He does. He loves us so much He sacrificed His only Son. 

I believe my dear friend is getting a sneak peak into the mind and heart of our Heavenly Father as He loves and fights for us. She has such a burden on her shoulders as she tries to love these precious kids to the Father. I can't help but feel though, that what she has is one of the most blessed burdens imaginable.

Love you, sweet friend. And to any other heroes out there loving traumatized children and the children that seem the most unlovable at times, thank you for fighting and loving in and through all the crazy. Your obedience does not go unnoticed.  

Image retrieved from: www.santabanta.com

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

As far back as I can remember...I have loved Christmas - everything about it! Decorating the tree, taking down the yearly decor to put up the gobs of Christmas decorations, looking at light displays, singing Christmas songs, baking (lots and lots of baking), and most importantly, the entire reason we Christians even celebrate the holiday - remembering the birth of our Savior in a humble stable surrounded by animals and hay and everything you would not expect for the King. I absolutely adore this time of year. It is cliche, but I truly do enjoy the sights, the sounds, and even the smells associated with Christmas. God knew what He was doing (obviously, He's God - so duh!) when He paired me with my sweet hubby who shares my passion and adoration for all things Christmas. I mean, when searching for our first home to purchase, how it would be decorated for Christmas was at the forefront of our minds. The planter shelf our village sits on during Christmas was what sold our house to us in the first place. We saw it and simultaneously thought it would be perfect for our ever expanding Christmas village. Yes, we love Christmas. 

How we would "celebrate" Christmas never really occurred to us though until I became pregnant. All of the sudden, we had a little one to think about and we had to decide how we would do Christmas as a family. It seems to me that in recent years (and maybe it's only recent to me because now I'm an adult with responsibilities) there is a growing controversy among Christians over "how" to celebrate Christmas. Do we decorate a tree? Do we sing certain carols? And perhaps the most controversial, do we allow our kids to believe in Santa? The tree and songs has never been an issue. I've always seen the Christmas tree as a foreshadowing to the tree that our Savior would give His life upon. My favorite ornament is even a large nail that hangs near the trunk of our tree unseen by guests as a symbol of this foreshadowing. But Santa? That's been a topic of conversation since Gabriel was born. Do we as Christians allow our child to believe in a fictional character who brings gifts? 

I know several people that have decided for their family that the answer to that question is a resounding "No!" And that is absolutely fine. I mean it. If that is what you have decided for your family, then I applaud you and respect you wholeheartedly for your decision. However, after much discussion, thought, a little research, soul-searching, and of course, prayer...my hubby and I decided that allowing the belief of the big guy in red is okay for us - as long as we can somehow tie even him back to Jesus. I'll be honest, I struggled with this. I didn't want to "force feed" him some fictional character. I didn't want to go through elaborately thought out lengths to "convince" my sweet boy that he was real. I simply wanted to make it fun and at the same time, point it back to Jesus. 

My husband and I brainstormed and we talked and we researched and last year shortly after Christmas I found what I was looking for. I wish that I had thought it up on my own. I wish I could take full credit for it. But I cannot. I ran across a woman's blog who tied in Santa and even the Elf on the Shelf guy and pointed both back to Jesus. 


I know there are mixed emotions about the Elf. Some absolutely love the guy and go all out in their elaborate attempts to create a mischievous elf that comes alive at night to cause trouble and wreak havoc. Listen y'all, I'm just not that creative and honestly, I'm a little lazy. So I'm most likely not going to be creating "flour angels" on my kitchen counter with the elf. Not my style. But we rather enjoy the little guy. I know some of you say he's creepy and perhaps when used the way he is "supposed" to be used, then yes, that's a little creepy. But we actually don't prescribe to the whole "he's watching you" sort of thing. He's a good friend of Santa's that spends some time with our family during Christmas. He does tend to be a little naughty but it's up to Gabriel to teach him about obedience and the grace of Jesus. Gabe received a letter from Santa on Dec. 1st that accompanied Peter the Elf. In his letter, he talks about the myth of the naughty and nice list and how he gives gifts no matter what just like Jesus loves us and gave the gift of Himself despite how good or bad we are. In the letter, he talks about grace and unconditional love, and learning how to be obedient. It was a joy to see his face light up when he saw that Santa Claus had written him a letter and he thought it was so cool that Santa said he knows Jesus. So while he may find Peter in some precarious situations over the next 19 or so days, Peter is not watching Gabe to see if he behaves. It's more like the other way around. 

The other tradition we have started and I have already grown quite fond of is Advent. I've been interested in this tradition for quite some time. The Catholic church down the road always places a huge Advent wreath replica outside during this time and each week a new "flame" gets added to the appropriate candle. Then a few years ago when our church was in its baby stages and we met in the evening, we would visit other churches on Sunday mornings to see how they did things and what we would want to incorporate into our new church. We visited a small church called Journey one Sunday morning in December and they included the lighting of the Advent candles in their service. So it's been in the back of my mind for some time. This year I finally did the research and looked up the meaning of the Advent candles and found scriptures to read each evening. I love it. Last Sunday evening we gathered around the Advent candle holder my husband so graciously made and lit the first candle together after we prayed. I explained what the candle stood for (hope) and read some scripture. Gabe was totally into it. I don't think I realized how in tune he was until I quizzed him the second night when we went to light it again. I asked him what the candle meant and he told me, "Hope!" Then I asked him where our hope comes from and he proclaimed excitedly, "JESUS!" It was a proud mom moment. 

After we light the candle, I let Gabe take down the countdown/activity card from the wooden tree my talented husband also made. The first night we had my niece over too so they both got to make an Advent wreath craft and they both enjoyed it. The second night we welcomed Peter to our house with the letter from Santa and the following morning he was found inside one of Gabe's shoes "sledding" down his toy racer slide. The 2nd morning Peter was playing a round of Candy Land with some other holiday creatures that normally hang out under the Christmas tree keeping the cat company (who every year thinks that the tree skirt is her new bed). The other morning, he was taking a swig of water from Gabe's favorite cup. It's simply fun! Just like he plays with his other figurines and creates little story lines for them, he does the same for Peter and I see no harm in imaginative play. 

With all of this said, I know several amazing parents that don't do the whole Santa and/or Elf gig and that, as stated before, is completely respectable. You do what works for your family, ya know? As for us, we're going to be keeping the jolly ol' guy around here and as Gabe grows older, we will begin the process of explaining the real story of St. Nick. And when he asks that age old question, "Mom, Dad, is Santa real?" Well, we'll tell him the honest truth - no matter what age he is. My hubby and I talked about the fond memories we have of believing in Santa Claus and we simply desire for Gabe to have those fond memories as well. But make no mistake about it - he will always knows the reason we celebrate because in everything we choose to do - Jesus will always be at the center - at this time and ALL year round. 

Surrendering My Fear

As parents, we have a plethora of responsibilities when it comes to making sure the little people that we are in charge of turn out to be big people that can take on the world. As Christian parents, those responsibilities go a little further to make sure that we turn those little people into big people that can take on the world without the world taking them.

I won't lie. My biggest fear as a parent is that when my son is old enough to decide, he will decide to walk away from the Lord. There. I said it. It's out there. I've never really confessed that fear before but there it is. As I continue to dialogue with other parents, I find that my fear is not so abnormal after all. As a matter of fact, it seems to me that a vast number of Christian parents have this exact same fear. But, why? Why, if we are living our lives as much in fellowship with Christ as we see possible, are we so afraid that our kids will turn out any different? I know for me, perhaps, it is because I've seen it firsthand. I've seen the offspring of an amazing Christian couple do a complete 180 from loving and proclaiming Christ in high school to being completely God-less as an adult. It truly makes no sense. I mean, let's be real here. I have no problem understanding the child of hypocritical parents walking away from the faith, but one whose parents are faithful and have trusted the Lord their entire lives? How does a person walk away from that?

In my "Parenting by Design" devotional, it talked about this a couple of weeks ago. One of the most poignant things that stuck out to me was this: "We can't force our kids to be godly. But we can be godly parents." And that is just it. Sure, you can force your kids to attend church or youth group. You can force your kids to bow their heads in prayer at the dinner table. You might even be able to force your kids to hang out with other kids of Christian families. However, you will never be able to force your kids to be godly. But you can be godly. You can set the example. 

I may not be able to control how my son turns out spiritually. But as long as he lives under my roof, I can be a godly parent. I can extend grace. I can serve those less fortunate. I can love unconditionally. I can cry out to God on my knees and allow him to witness it. I can study God's word and allow him to be a part of it. I can teach him memory verses. I can tell him how much Jesus loves him. I can make as many moments as possible teaching moments where I intertwine his actions with God's love. I can teach him to pray. I can read him bible stories. Most importantly, I can live out my faith everywhere I go so that he never sees me as being one way at church and another way at home. I can be a woman full of integrity and honesty. A woman of humility and a gentle spirit. A woman who submits to her husband and treats him with respect. I can and will do my utmost to be that woman so that he knows and understands what it looks like to follow Christ. 

Most importantly, I have to surrender this fear I have to the Lord and trust that He is in control. I must trust the promise that if I "train up a child in the way he should go, when he is old he will not depart from it." So, starting today, I shall surrender this fear. I shall lay it at the cross. I may have to do this daily, and maybe more than once a day as he gets older and tougher challenges occur but my deepest prayer is that my precious son will grow to be a servant leader who loves God and loves people. I pray that over him and surrender all the rest. 

I leave you with a snippet from today's devotion...a perfect end to what I've been hashing out over the last couple of weeks:
"The greatest gift we can give our kids is the example of a deep relationship with God and a desire to know His truth. The 'solid food' of spiritual maturity will overflow into our parenting as we tap into God's wisdom. Grow in spiritual maturity by making it a priority to spend time with God."

Yes. Just, yes. 

Image retrieved from www.kingjamesbibleonline.org

Pick Up, Clean Up

Every day, at some point, I utter the same few words to my precious son: "Gabe, you need to clean up your room" or "Gabe, you have to pick up these toys before you get anything else out."

Usually, without fail, his innocent little voice will follow: "But mommy, I need you to help me."

I tend to see this as his clever way of getting ME to clean up instead of him. In my ultimate mom wisdom, I think I have figured him out and am wise to his cunning ways. "I did not help make the mess, Gabe, so I am not going to help you. You made the mess so it's your responsibility to clean it up." This, of course, is usually followed by wailing and gnashing of teeth. Okay, not really, but the whining does commence at that point and after much bribing encouragement, he gets the job done.

But I had an epiphany of sorts the other night. A revelation, perhaps. Call it what you will. It was a word from the Lord. The cycle began yesterday late in the afternoon when he wanted to play with his play dough but his room looked like two grown sumo wrestlers held a match in there. I began my usual way: "You can play with your play dough as soon as you clean up the mess in your room." This time, he actually went in there and I thought, "VICTORY!" But it wasn't two minutes later and he was back out.

"Mommy, I really need you to help me." Heart. Melt. How can one say no to that sweet little pleading? Stay. Strong. Needless to say, I followed him into his room just to supervise the cleaning process. Something hit me, however, as I sat on the floor of his room watching him just tinker with the toys strewn around his floor. Isn't that just like you and me? Don't we makes messes of our lives at times? Some are small and not that dramatic and so we are easily able to pick up the pieces and put them back together. But then there are those times that we make bigger messes. And then we stand in the middle of our self-made mess staring at the rubble around us and wonder, "Where do I begin?"

In that moment, many of us cry out, "Lord! Help me! I need You to help me!" And then the Lord replies, "Nope! Sorry! You made that mess on your own. It's your job to clean it up!"

No...it doesn't go quite like that does it? He doesn't turn His back and leave us to fend for ourselves. He jumps into the middle of the mess with us and begins to guide us through. He shows us where to begin, what to pick up first. He helps us clean up the life mess that we've made through loving correction and instruction. I realized that my sweet 3 year old represents us in that scenario. He may have made the mess but he is now overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. His little mind wonders, "Where do I even begin?" And because he doesn't know what else to do, he calls to me or to daddy, "I need you to help me!"

So in that moment, I began to show him where he could begin. "Start with the animals and trees that go in this bucket." He picked those up and then we started on his legos. "Okay, pick up all the green ones and put them in your lego bus." The time passed and the room looked more like a bedroom than a scene from Twister and when he was all finished, we high fived! What a teaching moment for this mama! I don't ever want my son to feel abandoned when he's asked for genuine help. That's certainly not what our Heavenly Father does for us. 

Image retrieved from Google Images

"Comfort Must Fall"

I've never been drunk or hooked on drugs. I waited until I was married to give myself away. I grew up in the church and have had a relationship with Christ for as long as I can remember. I have never truly been rebellious.  I don't cuss. I'm generally picky about what I allow myself to watch on TV and the dial on my radio never changes from the JoyFM. For the most part, I look and act the part of a pretty good Christian. 

But I'm the most dangerous type of Christian. 
...
...
...
I'm comfortable.

The comfortable Christian.

In all honesty, there are two types of dangerous Christians. There's the type that is dangerous to the enemy's plans - those are the ones out there on the front lines of the spiritual battlefield seeking justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with their God. Those are the ones stepping out in faith, walking on the deep waters, trusting that God will never let them go. Those are the ones doing this life while loving irrationally, giving sacrificially, and truly being the hands and feet of Jesus wherever He tells them to go. That's the kind of dangerous Christian I WANT to be. 

But that's not the case. I'm the one that's dangerous TO the cause of the Kingdom, not FOR it. 
There are thousands upon thousands of us - living the Christian life - generally good people who truly love the Lord and love to see people come to Jesus and love to be in God's House surrounded by other believers but when it comes down to it - we like the comfort American Christianity has to offer. 

I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being complacent. I'm sick of talking a big game and then shrinking back into the shadows of a comfortable Christianity that gets me nowhere. I'm sick of saying that I'm ready to "launch out into the deep" like I know He's called me to do while still wading in the shallow waters. I'm sick of thinking and saying and never doing or going. I'm sick of the spiritual paralysis that slowly creeps in and wraps itself around the courage and boldness of the comfortable believer. 

I don't want to be the Christian that prays before meals or gives a little cash to the man holding a sign on the side of the road or reads my verse of the day on my BibleApp or goes to church on Sunday mornings and sings at the top of my lungs with tears streaming down my face and then turn around and say that's enough. It's never enough. 

God has called me to a life of sacrifice - a life of boldness - a life of living out my faith in the dark corners, deep valleys, and  dormant lands of this earth. I may not know all the details of this calling but I know it's big and I know that sitting in the place of comfort and complacency is not going to get me any closer to that goal. I have to stand up and knock comfort on its derriere. In the words of Louie Giglio, "COMFORT MUST FALL!" 

In the spirit of confession, I must confess that this is terrifying for me. And what for? I've watched several of my friends pursue the cause of Christ through difficult and downright dumpy circumstances and have seen the Lord provide peace and mercy and grace in the midst of it. I know He will do the same for me. 

I have the opportunity to go to Haiti in January. I planned to go next summer originally but the opportunity came up sooner - much sooner. When the dates first came out, my very first thought was, "Oh, I'd have to take off 5 of my 8 sick days and then that means that I'd only get paid for 3 days of sick pay at the end of the year, and that's a lot of money to give up." Honestly, that was my very first thought. But when I told my friends that I wasn't going to go, my reason was because I felt that taking 5 days off in January was doing a disservice to my kids. I said it because I wanted to believe that was the reason. And perhaps that would have been a good reason - but truly, my reason was selfish. And in true Father fashion, the Lord wrecked me for it Sunday morning. I can't even remember what song we were singing but the dialogue between Abba Daddy and myself went a little something like this: 
 God: So, be honest, my daughter.
 Me: What are we talking about?
 God: The real reason you said no to Haiti.
 Me: What? *cue the tears*
 God: It's not about your students.
 Me: *tears streaming now* I want it to be. 
 God: But it's not. Your reasoning is selfish.
 Me: But Lord, that's a lot of money. We can use that money.
 God: Yes, but I can use you. I find that more important. 
 Me: *water works central*
 God: I don't care about the money and your kids will be be fine for 5 days. I want you in Haiti.
 Me: Why me?
 God: Why not you?
 Me: *no words, just tears, and a constant stream of "I'm so sorry Lord."

So there it is. I'm completely terrified and I have no idea how I'm going to raise the full amount (about $1,600) in that short amount of time but I know that God has called me to this and when it's His will, He will make a way. I'm taking a huge step here, a huge leap of faith, and in the process I'm taking comfort down. As I step out on the deep waters, I'm leaving comfort in the boat.

Will you, my precious readers, pray with me? Pray for the Lord's provision and for the preparations of my heart that He is already beginning. Bless you, readers. And thank you. 

Conviction, Confession, Calling

For the past month, our pastor has been preaching a series about discipleship and what it truly means to be a "disciple of Christ" rather than just a "Christian." It's been convicting, challenging, and life-changing...in more ways than one. 

Let me back up a little bit before I get into the nitty gritty of my post.

A couple of weeks ago, it hit me while in the service that I allow too many distractions into my life. When I got home, I promptly deleted the facebook app off of my phone because I constantly waste precious time on it...time I can't ever get back. I did load it back on my phone mostly for the notifications I receive regarding my Thirty-One Gifts business but when I notice that I start wasting time just scrolling through, I put the phone down and try to focus my attention on other much more important things around me. 

It was that same day that in the middle of some personal bible study, God revealed something quite shocking to my heart - - - I have pride. I am, in fact, a prideful person. Talk about a blow to the gut! I had never realized that about myself but as he peeled away the layers, so to speak, it became more and more clear how prideful I am. I realized that I actually enjoy the spotlight. I like to have the attention on me more so than I should and I like to be noticed. And sometimes, I compare myself to others in order to feel better about myself spiritually. That is not an easy thing for me to confess. In that moment of recognition and conviction, He also spoke quite clearly to my heart: "I cannot and will not give you more responsibility for My kingdom until it is 110% about Me and you seek only MY glory and not your own." 

...W.O.W....

You'd think that would be enough...but in the same night, He spoke even more to me. I was reading through Luke 5 on the Bible app on my phone and the words of Jesus in verse 4 jumped right out at me: "Launch out into the deep." I knew when I read those words that God obviously meant something by them so later on, I opened up my actual Bible with physical pages so that I could read through the context again and underline those words but when I opened to that page, those exact words were already CIRCLED. Now, I don't circle stuff very often in my Bible and I certainly don't remember circling those words but I knew without a doubt that God meant something extremely important by them FOR ME. As I prayed through those words and what they might mean for me, Hillsong's 'Oceans' started playing on my Pandora station. Coincidence? Ha! For those of you unfamiliar with the song, I think the following lyrics should suffice: "Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, that my faith would be made stronger, in the presence of my Savior." 

All I knew was that I am meant to go deeper. God wants me to go deeper. But what those deep waters were, I really didn't know. I've been praying through it and discussing the possibilities of the meaning with my hubby. 

Last week I spent time in Columbus, Ohio for our Thirty-One Gifts National Conference - - - which was amazing. It spoke to my heart on so many levels, not just about how to better my business but also about how to better myself as a wife and mother and friend. It spoke to my whole person. I felt God speak to my heart about what that "deep" might be. As I pray through it and receive more information through research, I will reveal what that calling might be. But, I want to confess something first...that takes me back to the whole "disciple of Christ" topic. 

I want to first preface this part of my post with my belief that alcohol in and of itself is not wrong or sinful. The bible speaks against being drunk and commands that we remain "sober-minded." But for myself personally, I have had the conviction that I should not drink - period. This past week, I went against that conviction. And perhaps I should have felt the tug of the Spirit the first night when I had sangria at the hotel or the 3rd night when I ordered sangria at an Italian restaurant...but it wasn't until Friday night when we "celebrated" the end of a fabulous conference by going to a bar that the Spirit really got me. I ordered my very first martini and I danced with the absolutely fabulous and fun girls I was there with but something inside me kept whispering that I did not belong there in that place. I kept trying to push the voice down but that precious voice of the Spirit got louder and louder the longer I was there that by the time I finally left (12:30am) I was wracked with guilt. I didn't feel well and it had NOTHING to do with the alcohol and I knew it. It was guilt. Because honestly, what business did I have there? 

Here's where I'm going with this and I don't want anyone to take this the wrong way because I am really just writing about how I felt about myself. This is all about my convictions that are of course God-given but...not everyone else is there and I am not anyone else's judge. So please, please, please do not take this like I'm pointing any fingers at anyone because I'm pointing all 10 of them at ME! But as a DISCIPLE of Christ, I am called to be set apart. I am called to look different from the world and as I have already confessed through tears a few times to my mother and husband and bible study group, I did not look any different Friday night. No one in that bar could see any difference between me and them. I am supposed to be light wherever I go and I was not light at all in that dark place. The question I kept playing over and over to myself was this: "How can I, as a woman of God, ever justify being in a place like that acting just like everyone else?" And Lord knows that is the last place I would want Him to find me when He's ready to call His people home. We sang the song, "I Exalt Thee" on Sunday morning and with tear-stained cheeks I begged God to forgive my actions that in no way exalted Him Friday evening. You know what He said to me? "Child, you were forgiven before you ever stepped inside." The grace and mercy of my God is astounding and I don't deserve it. 

With all of that said, it's a great thing I'm reading Steve Furtick's "Crash the Chatterbox" right now because it would be very easy for the enemy to use my guilt to keep me from the calling that God has for me. But I am not going to listen to the lies of the enemy - - - I'm shutting that inner chatterbox down and I will use this experience as a catalyst for what He has planned. 

So, with all that said, I am using my convictions to confess and to move forward with my calling. 

Here's to launching out into the deep...

Blessings!

Foster Parenting: From the Outside Looking In

I am not a foster parent.

That's how I feel I need to start out this post because I need to be clear about the fact that I haven't the slightest idea how they feel and what they go through. But I am really good friends with some foster parents. And it has me looking at those who choose this particular ministry in a whole new light. 

I've been sort of like the creepy stalker friend who has been around from almost the start of the process and watched this foster thing unfold from the sidelines, praying and cheering on my two precious friends.

I've never really been exposed much to the foster system. I've known people who have fostered in the past. For some, it actually turned into adoption. For others, it turned into having a piece of their heart removed from them or having to make the difficult decision to let someone else take the reigns. I cannot imagine the emotional roller coaster these special people are sent on when they take the leap into the unknown and decide to become foster parents. 

Who knows whether God will ever call us to become foster parents. I pray that if He does, then we will follow. For now, He has called us to "take care of the orphaned" by coming alongside those that do to be there for them in the dark hours, and believe me, there are some pitch black dark hours in this ministry. He has called us to "take care of the orphaned" by loving on those kids and showing them the light of Christ. He has called us to "take care of the orphaned" by praying fervently for the kids and their new parents (as well as the ones now considered unfit by the system), to bring meals when things get tough, and to lend an ear for the weary mom (or dad) who is trying to figure out what works.

The system is certainly flawed. That is a fact. Ask these fostering friends of mine and they will be first in line to tell you. But you know what's not flawed? The love of Jesus. That kind of love is perfect and whole and liberating. I have been blessed to be in the front row of what some might call a crazy circus, to see that love poured out on hurting kids. I've seen the sacrifice of Abraham, the patience of Job, the wisdom of Solomon, the wrestling of Jacob, the strength of David, and the obedience of Daniel all rolled into a few amazing stories of foster parenting. 

In my past writing, I've used the word "foster" as synonymous with "encourage" or "cultivate" and so it made me consult the dictionary to see what exactly its definition was. I decided to check out the famed Oxford English Dictionary and this is the definition (in verb form) that I found: 

"To supply with food or nourishment; to nourish, feed, support."

I looked at this definition for a while and ya know, it just doesn't do the action of fostering justice. Sure, part of their jobs is to provide food and clothing and a place to sleep. But it's so much more than that. It's not just the task of fostering kids - it's more what they foster in the kids that matters.

They foster spiritual growth - teaching these children about who God is and what He can do.

They foster peace - teaching them how to handle their emotions in a controlled way.

They foster patience - in the kids' lives as well as their own and the lives of their homegrown kids as well.

They foster gratitude - showing them how to be grateful in all situations and for all things.

They foster joy - because to have joy in the midst of this depraved world is necessary.

They foster trust - in their broken world, no one has been there - it's a building process - and it might be a long one, but it must be done.

They foster hope - so many of these kids lost hope a long time ago - foster parents can help find it again.

Most importantly, they foster love - the love of the only One Who gives them the strength to carry on - Christ. Without love, these precious people could not do what they do each and every day for kids that have been entrusted to them. 

It strikes me that God calls on people in so many different ways. I really believe that if God sincerely calls you to foster (or adopt), then you must really have a heart like His. It's one thing for Him to entrust our own children to us, but to choose you to entrust someone else's child to your love and care is a call like no other. 

So to foster parents everywhere, you are seen. 

In my eyes, you are warriors. You are champions. You are conquerors. You are heroes. Don't give up the good fight. You have people cheering for you. And more importantly, you have a God that called you to this battle to fight for His children. Don't give up. Don't back down. You've got this! Well, HE'S got this!

Image retrieved from: www.conservativedailynews.com