When Everything Inside Me Screams, "NO!"

Photo via

I get them ready for this last step in what they call "transitioning."

Bathed, hair combed, clothes on, shoes tied, breakfast eaten, coats zipped up...

Every selfish thing inside me is screaming, "NO!"

The oldest one walks to the transporter's car. Just like all the other times for visits. Except it's not like all the other times. The child that I have loved like mine for 78 days. This child that has slowly been learning to trust our family. This child who has loved having so many brothers and a sister. This child who went from barely touching the food at mealtime to happily eating almost anything set before them. The child who was so timid and shy and scared, now shining with personality and charm. The child who had no concept, let alone desire to pray before mealtime or bedtimes, now reminding everyone to "Pray Jesus" multiple times a day.

The sweet, innocent baby, buckled in the infant seat being carried to the car. Will they know how the baby likes to be burped best? What the nighttime routine is? How to hold and bounce and what to sing when the baby is fussy? What about the smiles that have just been learned? Will they appreciate them? Will they know that baby loves to snuggle every morning from about 5-6am?

And just like that, they are gone. These beautiful children that came to us as a "pre-adoptive" foster placement. The ones that we thought we would have the privilege of calling OURS. Gone.

Our family has missed these two precious children so badly. Our two boys we adopted almost 4 years ago were set into tailspins. The fear and uncertainty of THEIR place in our family was obviously (although maybe subconsciously) in question. All the reassuring we have done seemed to be irrelevant now. They KNOW the feeling of having everything they thought solid, to be shaken. Scott, especially, has distinct memories of being removed from various placements throughout his 4 years in foster care. 

Luke and I decided we didn't think our family could handle another round of fostering children who would leave. This work is too messy. Too painful. Too difficult. And the effect it was having right now on our children, not a good thing. Plus, what about us? Two pieces of our hearts just walked out the door. Two pieces of our hearts, gone. We do not enjoy this kind of pain. We do not want to have to do this again. We have one hundred reasons, not all are completely selfish, why we are dismissed from this painful work of foster care.

We were so thankful we had arranged our trip to South California to begin just 4 days after these children left. God clearly had a hand in orchestrating the dates months ago when the trip was planned. So sadly, off we headed for California. Some of the behaviors were so glaringly awful, we almost turned around and headed home... multiple times. But by the grace of God, (and some encouragement from my parents to continue on) we made it. Once some of the fear of being "dropped off somewhere" by the boys had dissipated, everyone began to relax and enjoy themselves. We had spectacular behavior for the remainder of our time in California... even through a couple days at the World Ag Expo in Tulare, 3 days at Disneyland, and 2 days at my grandparents cabin in the mountains. 

Re-entry at home was tough. Reality began to set back in and we missed the kiddos that had left so badly. Trey walked around looking everywhere he could think, calling the names of the missing children. Halli didn't want to have to sleep alone at night. The empty bottles, baby bed, blankets, and tiny clothes were reminders of what was gone. Itty bitty diapers and a pacifier were discovered in the diaper bag. The pain and loss was very real.

Then, of all things, just a few days after being home, my neighbor drops by unannounced. She, too, is a foster parent. In the back of her car, she had two BEAUTIFUL little girls. This lady has a heart to care for these hurting children like nobody I've ever met. She is an older widow lady who serves these children with such love, you can't help but love her for it. One of the girls she had had the past summer for a while before she'd been returned home. However, both girls were back and in her care. Two children with the level of care these precious little girlies needed was proving to be much for my neighbor. Knowing we have our foster license, she wondered if we would be willing to help her out.

Again, every selfish thing inside me is screaming "NO!"

I don't think I have ever struggled so hard with knowing how to proceed  in my life. These beautiful girls broke our hearts. Our children were pleading with Luke and I to take them. One child even sobbing on their behalf once the girls had left. Regardless our desire to help, both Luke and I felt so inadequate and very guarded about getting involved with these girls SO soon after losing our other two. After taking the weekend to pray about it, we both felt comfortable about helping our neighbor out by afternoon babysitting. The baby, "Sami" needs to visit the burn center to have some burns cleaned and re-bandaged every day, so we keep the older sister, "Elly" until that's finished, then "Sami" is dropped off and they're both here until after dinner.

What a blessing it has been!! I cannot even explain what it has done for both us and our children, how healing it has been to be able to love on "Elly" and "Sami" each afternoon and evening. Scott sweetly reminded both Luke and I that we could have said no to taking both he and Quinn because it looked too hard or like too much. And to think what we would have missed. God is so good and He is without a doubt, the Giver of Second Chances. Although it feels so painful to hold and hug another with we miss our other two, it is good. God is faithful and He never makes mistakes. He is gently leading us along and helping us through both joy and sorrow at the same time. We are called to love, so love is what we will choose... even when it's hard.

The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve,
and to give His life as a ransom for many.

Mark 10:45