What An Opportunity

So there’s this game - “Never Have I Ever.” People play it to get to know each other better. You complete the sentence with something you haven’t done and then everyone has to say if they’ve done it or not. I think sometimes there are points involved, but honestly the game confuses me a bit so I’m not sure if you want points or if they are to be avoided. The reason I bring it up, though, will hopefully become clear. I suspect that, before COVID 19, many of my (and many of my friends) “Never Have I Ever” answers may have looked a little different than some of yours. 

Maybe someone would have said “Never have I ever…”

Gone to the grocery store and not know when I could go again. 

Spent weeks in a row without leaving my neighborhood.

Not known when my kids would go back to school.

Looked at the food on my shelves and wondered if it would last long enough.

Wondered if I or my kids could get healthcare if we needed it.

Tried to explain to little souls, without scaring them, that it isn't safe to go somewhere fun and it won't be for awhile.

Read government alerts telling me to travel while I still can, because soon, the option may not exist.

Realized so fully that I am definitely not in control. 

At some point in the last couple of years, I have lived each of these experiences. My friends here have lived each of these experiences. Our Haitian coworkers have lived many of these experiences and So. Much. More. 

And now, what an opportunity, friends, because so many more of you have now lived these experiences too. What an opportunity for all of us to see how similar we are. What an opportunity for compassion and empathy. What an opportunity to see more clearly into how many around the world live. What an opportunity to realize our weakness and trust in God’s strength. What an opportunity to learn and grown. What an opportunity to change for the better.

I know that it’s scary right now. It’s overwhelming. It’s unknown. 

But God is sovereign. He is not surprised. He will bring us through.

This will end eventually. And when it does, may we understand each other better. May we remember. May we be better.

I Am A Mom

See, I’m guessing a lot of people clicked on this expecting a big announcement of the familial sort. There isn’t one. Well, not in the traditional sense, but maybe in an eye opening sense nonetheless. :)

I am a mom. I have been for years. At the moment, I have six kids. Six kids who I feed, bathe, pray over and put to bed every night. But unless you’ve been to COTP, you haven’t met any of them. They’re not my forever, but they are very, very much my kids. (Side note: I can’t adopt for 3 more years, but if you're between 30 and 50 and love Jesus, you're a perfect candidate, so please ask me for more info on my little loves with special needs. Don’t make them wait that long.)

Several of the other missionaries and I were recently talking about elements of our life that make it hard for other people to relate to us, and vice versa. And the “mom factor,” is one that has really stuck with me. Because, although no one calls me that, I am a mom. I can’t travel with my kids or show you their pictures on Facebook. So many decisions regarding their lives are out of my control. But, I couldn’t possibly love them more. I fight for them (and with them.) I hold them when they cry. I celebrate their success. I want more for them. I want better for them. I want Jesus for them. I want an end to injustice for them. I want all of the things a mom wants for her kids. 

I have a little boy. He’s five. I’ve made every. single. one. of his birthday cakes. Because right now, I’m his mom. And he deserves that. He’s stuck in a system that has failed to advocate for him. But he has me. So I will be his mom, his biggest fan and his go to person, for as long as it takes. One day, I’ll let him go. But he’ll take a huge part of me with him. Because that’s what kids do to their moms when they leave. 

He’ll have another mom, and I am already so thankful for her, because she will be what he needs, she will be his forever, she will be his family. She will love and lead him well. She will be his mom, his biggest fan and his go to person, for ever and always. 

I have a friend here. Her foster son died. She was his mom. She cared for him through months of pain and sickness. She loved him well. She held him. She celebrated each little success and cried over every setback. She was his mom, his biggest fan and his go to person, for as long as it took. His forever home is heaven, but here on earth, he had a mom. 

I have another friend here. She’s an adoptive mom, but before that, she was a foster mom. Before it was "official", she was already a mom. She fought for her kids, she cared for her kids, she spoke life over her kids. She was and is their mom, their biggest fan and their go to person, then and now. They have a forever mom, but before that, she was their foster mom.

We’re not their first and we’re not always their forever. But we trust that God is redeeming the lives of these little ones we love so dearly.

So you see, there are all kinds of moms. Some are forever and some are just for awhile. But every single one matters. Even though we may not always wear the title of mom for our kids, we will always be a part of each other’s stories. And, as is the case for every mom, we will always love them. 

Children of the Promise has given explicit permission for the posting of photos on this site.  Photos taken of children in the care of Children of the Promise are not be posted publicly without explicit permission given by Children of the Promise.

Christmas Ponderings

We just finished the Christmas season, and I’ve been thinking a lot about Joseph and Mary. 

I’ve been finding their story very relatable to my life and this intense thing called foster care. See, Joseph and Mary willingly stepped into a messy situation that they didn’t really understand.  Their willingness to do so must have made it so hard for them to relate to those around them. They were no longer a typical couple with a typical family. People must have had trouble understanding. Even those who meant well probably couldn’t relate. And probably Mary and Joseph didn’t even get it half the time. But they were willing to do it anyways.

Obviously Jesus didn’t come with the same behavioral baggage that many of the kids we care for do and he didn’t experience trauma that wired his brain differently. Instead, he was born to heal this brokenness, but the stakes of parenting him were still very high. And caring for Jesus came with some promises. Some of these were beautiful, like “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High,” but there was also a very painful promise given to his young mom: “And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Here she was, doing this beautiful work that God had chosen her for, now knowing, without a doubt, that it would hurt like nothing had ever hurt before. And yet she did it willingly, because everything was at stake. 

I’ve now had eleven different kids move into the Peace House. The second “wave” was, in many ways, harder than the first. Because, oh, my soul had been pierced with the departure of the first precious five, and I know that the departure of each of these new little ones is the eventual goal. In order for them to fully know healing and redemption and family and Jesus, they must first come, and then they must go. Because they don’t belong here, they belong with their families. While the parallels are obviously not direct, and I am sure I am nowhere near as worthy as Mary, I am thankful for her example of parenting faithfully, even when it didn’t make sense. Her example of parenting even when she knew it would end in pain. Her example of parenting only to give away her precious baby. 

There is no doubt Mary was blessed by God. There is no doubt that being a foster parent is a blessing. May we continue faithfully, proclaiming that we are the Lord’s servants as Mary did, even though we know that this is soul piercing work.

School Christmas Program - Angel, Inn Keeper and Wise Man

We're still working on our group photo skills... 

...but at least we can dress up. :) 

Children of the Promise has given explicit permission for the posting of photos on this site.  Photos taken of children in the care of Children of the Promise are not be posted publicly without explicit permission given by Children of the Promise.