Change

Since the moment we became “The Peace House,” I knew it would end in goodbye. I would call them mine, treat them as mine and love them as mine. But I also knew I would spend every day preparing them for a time when they would no longer be mine. And now, for many of them, that time is almost here. After years of waiting, we can now count on one hand the number of papers remaining before one, two, three, and then four and five, will leave with their forever families. (Six and seven will still be here for awhile.) We have been waiting, praying, begging God for progress such as this, but now that we are so close, I’m finding that the words needed to describe my feelings are somehow just out of reach. 

In a single moment, I can feel the absolute impatience over how the final days of waiting for one more paper are stretching out, and yet dread the moment when we will find out it’s finally done, because somehow, that will make it real. And they will leave. 

A day can seem endlessly long and amid the tantrums, tears and struggles, I tell myself to treasure every moment, because soon I know they won’t be here anymore. 

And I am so thankful for that. These babes who I love with my whole heart will finally get to go home, to their forever families, who have been waiting and praying and begging God for this moment to arrive. It is beautiful and it is redemptive. It is purposeful and incredible. It is a holy miracle. 

But it is also so painful. Because I know that oh so soon they will no longer yell my name when I get home from the office, or join me on walks outside the gate. They won’t rest their heads on my shoulder or come to me for comfort. I will no longer be the one to pray over them each night, tell them I love them and kiss their little cheeks. 

That undeniable privilege will go to their mommies and their daddies, the beautiful people who said yes to these little ones that I love so much. And while it hurts knowing they will leave so soon, I have so much peace knowing these families and seeing the undeniable ways that God has prepared each child for each family. 

Foster care is hard. I knew that, but I didn’t know that. I’ve learned it over and over, and I’m still learning it. But it is also the best thing I’ve ever done. The ways in which these kiddos have helped me learn, grow, love and be better are innumerable. I have learned on a deeper level how a parent and child relationship mirrors God’s relationship with us. I have been beyond overwhelmed with the hard stories these children bear, but I have been privileged to play a small part in the redemptive work God is doing in their lives. I have failed more times than I care to admit, but I have learned to lean into God’s grace and forgiveness in a whole new way. 

I am so proud of these kiddos. They are braver than they know. They are more beautiful than they know. They are more treasured than they know. And I will always and forever be grateful for the role each of them have played in my life. It might be the hardest thing I have ever done, but I wouldn’t change a thing. 

Pray for us. For the five precious kiddos leaving (relatively) soon. For their amazing forever families. For our team of nannies. For the two kiddos who will still be here with me when the dust settles and their five best friends have gone home.


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