So often I feel wrecked by foster care. By all that it entails. Taking children from their homes, their moms, their lives. Facing the traumas of why they were removed and the questions of where they’ll end up next. Knowing that none of this is ok and probably never will be.
I struggle to find hope.
And then this week. This week hope found me. It chased me down and didn’t let me go. No matter how much I squirmed, it stayed. It held.
It gave Little D a safe home, a good home, a better home with friends.
It gave him a new school with strong academics and dedicated advocates.
It gave him a new teacher who is seeking to become a foster parent himself.
It gave Big D a safe home, a good home, a better home here with us.
It gave him a new school full of strong academics and dedicated advocates.
It gave him his best friend from his old neighborhood now attending his new school.
As the days go on, the list goes on. Each one bringing a new happy coincidence until I have to stop.
Stop doubting. Stop fearing. Stop fighting.
God is here. He is.
I may have met my end. But He has not met His.
Sometimes, some days it doesn’t seem as if He comes and I don’t understand that.
And yet, I cannot deny that now He has come. In more ways than I can count.
I have so little left. But I have “Amen.”