the precious mundane

Me - "How can I spend every day with you but miss you so terribly?"
Baby - giggles and grabs my face

Don't let an unexpected medical emergency {no matter how minor} be the tipping point... the kick-in-the-butt reminder to revel in the preciousness of the mundane.

I am SO grateful to be nearing the end of recovering from this event and that my mommy-duties have increased daily... but may I share what has been the hardest part of this ordeal?

Missing them so much when they are here with me every day...

Not being the one squatting the baby to sleep or feeling the inevitable soreness in my legs when he finally rests his eyes.

Not pulling the toddler out of bed when she calls in the morning, "Where are you, mommy?"

Not rubbing butt cream all over the babies bottom when it's red... that's what mommy's do.

Not being at church the first time the two year old left the sanctuary for children's church instead of the nursery. There will only ever be one "first".

Not turning around in the passenger seat to watch their raspberry competitions in the back seat.

Not scooping up and comforting the toddler when she wakes up crying from who knows what.

Not sitting on the floor to practice pulling-up-to-stand with the baby.

Not picking up her fit-throwing self and placing her in time out.

Not crawling around the floor with the baby and big sister when she yells, "'mon mommy!"

Not picking up twenty-two pounds of the sweetest baby on the planet to kiss his cheeks, buckle him in the car, take a family photo, change his diaper, travel the house with his cuteness attached to my hip. My hip misses his frame so very much.

Not squatting down to help her get dressed, put her shoes on, use the potty, play with her toys, pick up her toys.

These mundane parts of everyday life that I didn't even realize... how could I not realize?

They are so precious. Each one is fleeting and so. very. precious.

My heart is heavy for the mommies who have a more difficult road to walk, who would read this and beg for my two-three week recovery over their own journey. Please know that if this is you, we are covering you in prayer as you miss your babies so desperately. I have seen only a glimpse of your path, and my heart weeps for you.

Friends and mommies, please enjoy each moment with your children, please know that each one is a gift. A precious everyday opportunity to love your children by treating the mundane... the diaper changes, the bath times, the school pickups... like a winning lottery ticket.

Watching somebody else do these things for me when I have so longed to do them myself has humbled me and blessed me. My beautiful sister who is a phenomenal aunt has done this job so well, she has celebrated the mundane with her niece and nephew and has opened my eyes to a world of precious mundane moments I've been missing all along. I will miss her SO much!

...but I believe I have four days before I can pick up that twenty-two pound hunk of sweetness and I do not believe I will put him down for days!

And just like that...

Mercy started school last week.

Let me repeat that.

My 2 1/2 pound baby girl walked her 2 1/2 year old self into school last week.

How can this be??

Of course I cried. I did not expect myself to...

...but something about watching her walk into the school with her teacher and not even look back when she waved goodbye... something about that got me.

She's just a big girl now, doing big kid things like all the other two year olds.

I hope I haven't missed a minute.

...and I grieve knowing that I have.

This week, as I lie here recovering from surgery watching my amazing husband and sister take care of these babies who are barely babies anymore has made me terribly aware of how much I've missed.

Sweet baby boy crawled up to my feet and plopped his little bottom down. He looked up at me smiling from ear to ear as if to say, "Here I am!" Oh how I wished I could scoop him up!

Tooth #4 must have made it's appearance when I blinked at some point, he showed me at dinner through his big not-so-gummy grin.

Moments later, I said "no" to my precious Mercy and I broke.

"Help, mommy!"

She was getting out of her chair at the dinner table and I couldn't help with this simple task.

It's amazing how much you realize you've taken for granted when you can't do even the simplest things to help your children. To me, this simple task was a giant. It was a "help, mommy" denied, a moment lost, a chance to meet this one simple need one more time. Before I know it she won't need help getting out of that chair, she'll be bouncing out and running for toys. How many times have I encouraged her to do it on her own because I was busy doing whatever... cooking, dishes, cleaning, eating, texting, being lazy...

How many times has baby boy needed to snuggle and I've not been there to hold him close? How many firsts have I missed because I was looking the other direction? Did I miss his very first crawling step because I was reaching for the camera? Have a noticed every different smile and precious face he has made, knowing that our days together may be numbered? Have I enjoyed every sweet moment shared between he and Mercy, cherishing these days of them being 9 months and 2 1/2 years old?

Tomorrow they'll be older, tomorrow they will be learning new tasks. He'll be walking soon and she'll be reading. The days of carrying him on my hip and reading book after book to her are quickly coming to an end. They will need me less and less and I must hold onto these minutes before I miss one more.

When I broke at the dinner table tonight Mercy saw my tears.

"Ok, mommy?"
"I'm ok, sweetheart."
"A hug, mommy?"
"I would love a hug, baby."
"Ok, I get down and hug you, ok?"
Daddy helped her down, she ran around the table, hugged my neck and whispered in my ear, "ok, mommy. ok."

Oh sweet girl, I promise to stop taking our minutes for granted. I promise to cherish your hugs, your needs, your wants, I promise to hear your voice and treasure each word. I promise to experience every minute with your baby boy like it was our last minute with him, cherishing each one to it's core and creating memories with you both that will last when the minutes pass. I promise to put the dishes and the laundry off when I need to, to put the phone down, turn the computer off, read books, play outside, listen to y'all squeal and giggle and enjoy your raspberry competitions agains each other. I promise to learn to tickle you as laughably as your daddy does, and to sing with you until my voice is gone.

The minutes are passing too quickly and I've missed too many already.
I promise to make our next lifetime of minutes count, sweet babies.

Friends, these days with our little ones are going too fast.  Can we take a break, s l o w down for a minute? When our lives are spinning let's be available to each other with gentle reminders to pace ourselves. Let's commit to praying for each other and holding each other up in our parenting journeys, to loving each other and not judging. Let's make a commitment to encouragement and let's appreciate the minutes we have before they are gone.

Why consider foster care? Because we are broken

Our journey through foster care has been refining and revealing of so many 'heart deficits.' The further we get into this the more clearly we understand the risk we have taken in loving a child who may leave us one day.... and the more clearly we understand why God has asked us to.

My hope when we originally sought foster certification was to grow our family by adopting a child through foster care. I believe fully that if the Lord allows it this may happen one day with one or more future foster children, however, adoption is no longer the reason we're doing this. Foster care is the reason we're doing this. Foster children are the reason we're doing this. Birth families are the reason we're doing this. Broken families, broken hearts, broken lives, grace, LOVE, redemption... that's why we're doing this.

The families and children affected by our foster child's situation have molded our experience and changed our hearts. These people matter. Their hearts matter, their sadness and brokenness matters. Baby boy's heart matters and his sweet mama's heart matters too.

When we as a community of believers say that we can't do this because we could never love a child who may leave us one day, we're not only saying "no" to the children in foster care, but we're saying "no" to their mamas and daddies who need to be loved and prayed for with the same fervency as their children... to the brothers and sisters who grieve for their siblings who are growing up without them... 

These are people who need grace and healing just as much as you and I do. These are broken people. And I'm a broken person, a broken mama.

If this foster care journey has taught me anything, it's that.
I. Am. Broken.
I. Need. Jesus.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me."

Folks, Jesus is the only way we can do this. His grace, so amazing, poured down on this wretched heart of mine, rescuing me from a pit I didn't even know I was in. Grabbing my heart held hostage by sin, cleansing it with His blood, making it His own, revealing the needs of the world and His children to me, to us as His children, burdening our hearts for these families who are as broken as I am, held hostage by their own sins that may look different from mine but are no different to our great God, using this heart that He has cleansed to reveal His cleansing grace to families who are grieving and need to feel His presence.

When we got into this I never imagined falling in love with the families of our potential foster children. How blessed I am to have one specific person on this journey to remind me how important love is. How much beauty and grace and preciousness I would have missed out on if I had closed the door on loving these people we have grown so close to.

How much truth I would have missed out on. Truth about myself, the condition of my heart, my need for healing, the piecing together of the brokenness that I wasn't even aware of. Self-righteousness, ugliness, and the filthy selfish desire for my own fulfillment despite the pain of others.

This is not about gaining a child for our family, this is about gaining a family for our family. This is about sharing our hearts with families in crisis and building relationships, sharing grace, sharing Jesus. Ten years down the road if we have one twelve year old daughter and a network of families who we have loved, witnessed reunification, seen the grace of God work through our little family, and are able to maintain those relationships and encourage and point towards Christ, I believe we will have done just what the Lord has asked us to do. I believe we will have experienced the greatest grief and most beautiful joy simultaneously and I believe it will have been worth it. I believe our hearts will have broken and been mended time and time again by our great Physician, more and more pieces put together with every child we care for, showing us who He desires us to be and how He desires us to love.

Friends, will you pray for these families with us? The mamas and daddies, brothers and sisters, grandparents, each heart involved these children's lives, that they will find the healing and peace that only Jesus Christ can give, that they would experience His presence each moment of each day and that they will know without question how very loved they are. And will you pray for my heart and your heart too? That we will recognize our brokenness, our need for healing, peace and the experience of God's presence daily. That our hearts would be broken for families in crisis and would be moved to do whatever God would ask us to do, even if that means risking our own hearts so that families can grow stronger, know Jesus and raise their children to do the same.


**This post is part of a series of posts aiming to answer the question, "Why did you choose foster care?" If any of these words or these posts spark an interest in your heart to consider foster parenting, please contact me or visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

Why consider foster care? Because their hearts matter

"Guard your heart," they said.

I almost bought into it too...

...and I understand where they're coming from.

Protect my heart. It's the only way. Love half-way so that my heart can't break. If I don't let myself love this guy with all the love in my heart, there is less of a chance that I'll hurt in the end.

I know they're just worried about us, worried that our hearts will break. They love us, they don't want to see us in pain.

This little man who we have fallen so deep for... To think about him leaving... is heart breaking to say the least. How can I keep myself from feeling pain and mourning for a lifetime when he's gone? Simple: I can't... not happening.

The risk we take in foster care is falling in love with a child who may leave our home one day...

Yes... scary, heart breaking, risky... so risky that some of us close our eyes to the realities that children are facing in our communities... Sometimes I feel like the risk to our hearts is so much that we've forgotten the hearts of those who are truly at risk in these situations....

The hearts of the babies, children, and teenagers in the system who have been neglected, beaten, broken down and... forgotten about.

Forgotten about by everyone they've ever cared about, and forgotten about by those of us who say we can't take care of them, "it's too risky, we would love them too much, get too attached."

Guess what, friends who would love them too much, these kiddos need YOU. These kids need somebody to get too attached, someone who's heart would break for them. Do you know that many of the children in foster care have never experienced someone loving them that much? Someone loving them so sacrificially that they would risk their heart breaking just so they could pour too much love into their hearts?

We must remember the hearts of these kids. Their hearts matter.

Maybe even more than our's...? Definitely in a different capacity than our's.

This, friends, is a heart issue. And a big one.

We know our hearts matter, of course they matter... but let's not worry about our own hearts. Our hearts are filled with the love of family, friends, our Savior and Creator, and our love for each other. If our hearts break, it looks like we've got a pretty awesome support system waiting to take care of us and love us through the pain.

We must refuse to go half-in for these children, and their families, who may have little to no support system, and we must refuse to leave them in the hands of families who will not love them too much (read this and this and let your anger move you to action in our community!)

As a community of believers, will we choose to give these children only some of our hearts so that the rest of our hearts won't feel pain..? Or will we go all in for them?

Give 100%, friends. These children need every ounce of love in our hearts to be there for them now, and even when they leave. They need us to be family who will mourn for them and miss them every day for the rest of our lives. If these kids leave their foster homes and one day find themselves in a dark place and a sad environment, they need to know we loved them so much that twenty years later, we're still praying for them and loving them.

I am SO blessed to have a close friend and former foster mama model this for me. Just last week she showed me photos of her foster son who is a grown man now, who still calls her "mom" and calls when he needs her love. And she still prays for him, all these years later.

While I understand the concern, I urge you to be less concerned for our hearts and more concerned for the hearts of these children in foster care. If our precious foster son goes home tomorrow, each of these 181 days we've loved him will be worth every ounce of pain we will experience from losing him. We would do it one hundred times over.

Can I take a minute to relate this sacrificial love to all of us?

How sad would our lives be if we held back on loving people because of the risk we take in losing them. Isn't this a risk in all our relationships? Are we promised tomorrow with any of our loved ones?

When Mercy came ten weeks early and Chris was told that she might not make it through the night, did we decide to guard our hearts in case we lost her? NO. We went ALL. IN. More in than ever, loved her more than we knew how, cherished all of our seconds with her knowing there may not be as many as we hoped. She needed us more in those days than ever. This baby boy needs our whole hearts, not the guarded versions. He needs us to love him too much today, and I think we need him too.

I think we need him so we can better understand our heavenly Father's all-in love for us.

What if He held back on loving us because of this same risk, or because He feared becoming too attached and losing us?

What if the fear of us turning away from Him stopped Him from sending Jesus here to rescue us?

What if He guarded His heart when we were at our worst, in our deepest need of Him?

"We love because He first loved us."

1 John 4:19

Oh, and He loved us so much, friends. SO much more than you and I could ever deserve or even begin to understand. There's no {worldy} sense in it, yet there was never a second thought. Only love. All-in love for a bunch of broken, hurt, damaged hearts who would turn and fight and walk away. That's me and that's you. Let's offer the love He has shown us to those He has put in our care. Let's be more concerned for their hearts and less concerned for our own.

For God called you to do good, even if it means suffering, just as Christ suffered for you. He is your example, and you must follow in his steps. 1 Peter 2:21 (NLT)

**This post is part of a series of posts aiming to answer the question, "Why did you choose foster care?" If any of these words or these posts spark an interest in your heart to consider foster parenting, please contact me or visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

Why consider foster care? Because we have room

Why did we choose foster care?

Another simple answer...

We. 

Have. 

Room.

When we moved to Louisiana seven years ago I accepted a job at a state funded group home. I worked there for nine months... Those nine months were absolutely life changing. They were my first real exposure to the world of foster care and the children in the system. We cared for children from about eleven to seventeen. Traumatized, hurt, angry, damaged by the things they had experienced in their lives so far. Longing for love, but understandably guarded. When they allowed me to love them, that was the greatest of privileges. These kids changed me. Completely. And I'm SO blessed to have been able to keep in touch with several of them who have continued to let me love them and have loved me back in a way that humbles me and brings big weepy tears to my eyes.

I want to share an experience with you... One single day at work that changed our lives and our future for good.

Christmas day, 2008. Chris came to work with me, there were eight kids who had nowhere to go on Christmas. No family, no aunts, grandparents, no mama or daddy, no willing previous foster home... nobody.

I look back on that day, on the tears, the fighting... there were TONS of gifts that had been donated, and I wondered for a moment why these kids were so ungrateful... they threw things, they yelled, the color wasn't right, it wasn't the brand they hoped for... didn't they realize they were getting gifts?? From strangers who cared about them?

I quickly realized where the grief poured from.. while their friends from school were in their homes opening gifts from their mama and grandmama, they were in an institution opening handouts from strangers...

Christmas. Day.

These eight children very literally had nobody.

...and did I mention it was Christmas??

Nobody should have nobody on Christmas!

Chris and I went home that night with a new understanding of the calling the Lord was placing on our lives. We walked into our three bedroom home and we knew.

These kids needed somewhere to go, someone to love them on Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, weekends, Thursdays, Mondays, every day, every hour and every minute.

And we had room.

When I left my job several months later we quickly sought foster certification. For the next several years until our daughter was born we welcomed these teenagers from group homes into our life and our home on holidays and weekends and whenever we could. We cooked with them, prayed with them, had family dinners, watched movies, opened gifts, played games, LOVED with every ounce of our hearts because these kids are SO lovable. We loved each one who spent time with us and we will love them forever.

Each of these moments were gifts from the God who called us and prepared us. I will never forget some of the experiences we shared with these precious ones and how He used them to mold me into who I am today. They showed me that not only did I have room in my home, I had even more room in my heart.

And even after Mercy came into our lives and filled our hearts so full, those sweet ones who have kept in touch continued to remind me of how much room there was to love, and even one more little heart ready to share her love with the world.

As Mercy grew over the course of that first year, I would walk into that empty bedroom and just wonder who would fill it. I often prayed for our future foster children in those moments, not knowing if they had been born yet or when we would meet them. I prayed that our hearts would be prepared, I prayed for their safety, their hearts, I prayed for their parents and I thanked God for giving us room to grow our family, even if only temporarily, through these precious little ones in foster care.

Three bedrooms, still only two were occupied.

Three hearts, so roomy and so ready to love.

...and friends, that's about as simple as it gets.

We have room, so we said yes.

And oh how very blessed we have been by saying yes to this sweet little man who has filled our home and our hearts over the last five months!

Do you have room? ...in your home? ...in your heart?

If you have some empty space, will you commit to praying that the Lord show you ways to fill it that will honor Him? It may not look like foster care, adoption or respite care, but if it does please continue to pray, contact me or other foster parents and organizations in your area, seek information and pray. Don't. Stop. Praying.

**This post is part of a series of posts aiming to answer the question, "Why did you choose foster care?" If any of these words or these posts spark an interest in your heart to consider foster parenting, please contact me or visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**