Christmas tunes played softly in the background as I rocked the little guy; letting his body lay on my legs and cusping his head in my hands. He was out cold but I decided to take the opportunity to talk to him. As I played with his black tight curly hair (who can honestly resist that hair?) I told him how handsome he was and how he was going to grow up to be a smart, standup guy. I told him he didn’t have to end up like his parents, who were both in jail.
And then she appeared.
We checked the paperwork and the carseat and he was on his way to his temporary foster home. I had just given a newborn to a woman in her early 60’s. It made me question why younger people weren’t doing foster care. They seemed more apt to handle the lack of sleep and demands of a new baby. On my way home that night I contemplated whether a nurturing loving stable home could eliminate the nature of addiction and abuse and change the trajectory of child’s life. I made a mental note to look into foster care someday.
And then I left on the Race.
When I first got home, (five months ago tomorrow!?!) as I contemplated what to do next I struggled. Struggled is the nicely packaged way of saying I stayed in bed for close to two weeks watching Netflix avoiding the inevitable (my future) which when I attempted to face it brought on tears, an increased heart rate, headaches, and frustrations. It wasn’t pretty and bless my mother for offering to buy me another pair of pajama pants since she hadn’t seen them off my body since I landed and hoped I hadn’t changed for lack of options. For the record I have more than one pair. Moving on…
See the thing is Salliemae was beckoning me with her vomit inducing figures and I felt like my hands were being forced in a certain direction. I didn’t want to get a job in the States and have my life go back to being a 9-5, or what ever wacky schedule a nurse works. I had seen too many things over the past year. I couldn’t just resume life like they didn’t exist. I felt this overwhelming burden for my life to count for something bigger. I felt needed and alive overseas. And so I battled with God. Bless Him for being patient with me as I ignorantly and impatiently talked without listening and asserted my way.
Eventually I did leave my bed. I met a friend at Waffle House who was struggling as well. As these words left my mouth I came face to face with my own reality;
“You know what? It’s easier to run back overseas. A different country every month, living out of a backpack, eating ethnic food, those things have become our norm. So of course we want to go back, we feel safe in those environments now. But remember back to the things the Lord told you on the Race. Remember what He was leading you to next. Chase after that. “
It was easy to say these words to someone else. It involved them taking a risk and doing something. I could sit in my pj pants and continue to be at a standstill with the Lord.
That’s what I planned to do.
However, the memories from Nepal, a month that radically changed my life and dreams, came flooding back and I knew action was inevitable.
On top of a mountain in the foothills of the Himalayas I heard the Lord say;
Motherhood is not going to look like what you planned. Not at first anyways.
Come again? He couldn’t possibly be asking me to do what I think He was asking me to do.
I tried to push foster care as a single lady out of my mind but my resolve was wearing down with each baby I held. Which was a lot because we’re like magnets. I’m drawn to them and they fit magically in my arms. But stubborn is my middle name and having a plan is my game so I fought a good fight. Until…
A week or so later I sat in his living room listening to his story chomping away at my chocolate chip cookie without a care in the world. Then I heard him say “the opportunity presented itself for me to love and care for this orphaned child. I didn’t feel adequate because I was no married (no that isn’t a typo) but I knew God was asking me to care for him. So I did. Then I get married to my beautiful wife and now we care for thirteen children.” I choked on my cookie because right then I KNEW I could run but I couldn’t hide. I wasn’t even suppose to be there that day but a teammate was sick so I went to interview this man. And right there in the middle of a mint green living room as I sipped tea and ate a cookie the Lord spoke to me.
If he can do it then you can do it.
Knowing my tendency to run from things I think I might fail at or that deviate from my plan I decided to start saying “I think I’m suppose to be a foster mom when I get home” out loud to my teammates. I called it accountability. Really, I think it helped me come to terms with it.
Apparently someday would be coming quicker than I anticipated. When we had Internet I began doing some research. As I read about the needs of the American system for “orphans” I knew I wanted to take on the medically fragile babies since they are the hardest to place. I knew from the hospital I had a weak spot for drug babies because they need a lot of cuddling and are often seen as a nuisance, but not to me.
Suddenly it hit me as I sat in the booth as though it was a revolutionary concept, my life could count for something bigger.
Right here in my own backyard.
I just had to do something. For me that was a very specific thing; foster care.
Shortly after I wrote my last blog I found a pediatric nursing job. I’m not qualified but I applied anyways. I was hired on the spot. When I took it I did not even realize that this job is a divine answer to a prayer I didn’t know my heart was praying. This job qualifies me to care for the medically fragile down the road. No wonder the doors to the jobs I was qualified for kept shutting.
Caring for the orphans seemed less intimidating overseas. They weren’t hard to find and I had all the time in the world to love on them. Fostering will require a little bit more of a sacrifice.
There are moments when it seems terrifying. The questions that others have asked plague me sometimes; can you emotionally and financially care for a child? How will you balance a job and a child? Shouldn’t the children have two parents? Will someone want to date a girl with a baby? On a good day I confidently answer those questions with conviction and assurance. On a bad day I doubt and try and hide it as I answer. Those are the days He whispers the same thing He said to me a year ago;
If he can do it then you can do it.
What I realize now is that instead of being “stuck here in America” I have been given a platform. I can make a difference here. I can feel needed and alive here.
When I spoke about the Race at my church back home I emphasized at the end that while I am very privileged to have been able to go overseas one doesn’t have to go to a foreign land to do what I did.
Each of us have been given a unique sphere of influence right where we are.
We can clothe the naked, feed the hungry, visit the lonely, care for the orphaned, and invest in the least of these…
because…
they are in our neighborhoods, at our schools, at our jobs, standing at the end of streets with signs, in nursing homes, caught in a system too inundated to properly care for them, and in our churches.
I’ve found myself getting frustrated with Christians (myself included) who flippantly say they “have a heart for” [fill in the blank] or are burdened/heartbroken for [fill in the blank]. Then do absolutely NOTHING about it. Have you ever heard the saying “actions speak louder than words?” Well, it’s true.
My heart is for the orphans. Unless my actions match what I say they are simply words. Empty words. And so I have applied to be a foster mom to the orphans of the living (they have parents but have been taken from them because of neglect/abuse or were abandoned) right here in America. I want to be a woman of my words.
I may not be able to change the world. But I can change somebody’s world.
I know it sounds ideal and I am fully aware that what lies ahead can be very messy. The pictures may not show it but it wasn’t always beautiful overseas. Loving was messy. Investing was messy. We had to sacrifice at times. However, I can’t imagine allowing the messy parts to prevent me from doing something. Those kids I fell in love with and held for endless hours have inspired me to do something.
My questions for you are….
What/who do you have a heart for? Are you DOING anything about it? Whose life are you going to change?
Don’t know where to start? Befriend someone. Listen to their story. Invest in their life. I have found once we have a face to an “issue” we can no longer just do lip service. We are moved to act because someone we are invested in depends on it.
Also, I very much appreciate prayers as I start this process and prayers for the little lives I’ll (and my roommates) have the privilege of loving in the coming months.
