One year ago today I received a phone call that would change our lives. I had agreed to another placement with Safe Families after telling Matt "This case is perfect - the mom is just in labor and needs help for about 2 weeks. It's an open and shut case." We still laugh about that comment. I can remember the phone call like it was yesterday, the woman from Safe Families asked me if I would rather take the 1 year old boy or the 2 year old girl. It didn't matter to me - it was fun to have a little boy around for a change, but then we had all those girl's clothes and toys... so girl it was. It seemed like a simple choice, inconsequential. After all, it would only be for a couple of weeks.
Matt was the one who picked her up. I called him while he was in the car with her to see how things were going and he warned me, "Oh, Noel, she's so cute! We are in big trouble because we are just going to love her!" It was a Monday. She loves to hear the story, which I think she still remembers parts of. I know she remembers Matt picking her up, and he loves to recount their trip to the grocery store on the way home where she talked non-stop for hours! (He likes to exaggerate) And all through the grocery store she talked and talked without taking a breath: "can I have a cake can I have a candy I love cake! I love candy! Oooohhh look at that it looks yummy can I have some it looks so yummy I love cake and candy! can I have some?!!!!!!!........" I wasn't there so I can't verify, but I have to say I tend to believe the story. She talked to me from the moment I helped her take her coat off, through the multiple baths I had to give her to try and wash the gosh awful mess of gunk out of her hair (I ended up having to cut a chunk out), while I put on her pjs and rocked/sang/read to her until I finally put her in bed. At which point she screamed for what seemed like hours, only stopping when I checked on her and tried to rock her to sleep.We had no idea that a couple of weeks later, the morning after we had filled out adoption paperwork to begin the process of adopting a baby from China, we would get another call. This time to tell us that the little girl that we fell in love with instantly would be leaving our home for a foster home. They didn't have to ask us - we knew immediately that we were supposed to be her foster parents. We were ready to travel across the world to rescue a little child in need of a family, when God had already put one in our own home. And the rest is history.
It's been a year since that Monday, and while she still talks nearly non-stop all day long, she no longer screams when I put her to bed at night (I finally figured out she was afraid I was going to leave her. As in alone. In the house. While I went to the grocery store or something. Sheesh!)
People are always asking how we do what we do and the truth is often times I hate foster care. But I love this little girl. So I endure the system with its failures and limitations and I remind everyone within the system who will listen of all this little girl has gone through and continues to struggle with in hopes that they will have to listen and make the right choice for her eventually. The maddening thing is that we are always being told "It's still early. These things take a long time." As if a year of living two lives and never knowing where you belong isn't punishment enough for a little girl who's only mistake was being born into a home that couldn't or wouldn't take care of her. But the courts and the powers that be don't rock this little girl when she's scared to see her biological family. They don't (still) have to explain to her that when she takes a nap, they will still be there because they don't leave preschoolers home alone. When she panics and asks if she had breakfast today and it's 3 in the afternoon, they aren't there telling her for the millionth time that in this house we eat 3 meals a day. Every day. And we don't run out of food or forget to feed children. And when she wakes up screaming, they aren't the ones rocking her and promising her that the monsters in her past don't know where she lives and can't hurt her right now. They read neatly typed reports of what we say she says happened to her, they don't have to hear the stories from her tiny mouth and shaky voice. Today they didn't have to tell her that she has to go back to wearing pull ups because the last round of visits and bad memories has completely undone the toilet training(s) I've done with her. I can't help but wonder, if the people who made the laws and executed them were the people that cared for the children those laws most deeply affect, what would change? If they saw faces instead of statistics, would they look at me, shrug their shoulders, and say "it's still early?"
I could soapbox for hours, but I'm assuming I'm preaching to the choir. And it should be noted that the system is flawed because it's run by man and mankind is flawed. However there are great people working in the system - social workers and lawyers and foster families who fight hard for these children every day. The greater truth is that 3 years ago when this little girl was pulled from her home she was placed with a family that taught her about Jesus. And today she is in a home that does the same. God has a plan for her and won't let her go. Sometimes people ask me how I can be so calm about all of this. How I can know that she may have to go back to her biological home, and know exactly what will happen to her if she does, and not lose my mind. All I can tell you is that she is God's child and He has made it clear through His Word, through His actions, and through the peace He speaks to me that He is in control. I want to rescue her. I want the system to wake up and protect her. I want her mother to make the right choice, let her go, and not let anyone else hurt her. But she is God's to rescue. And the more the system fails her, the more the family she was born into fails her, the more I struggle with the fact that I can't save her, the more it is clear that only God is her refuge. I pray and I know others join us that God will rescue her, and I have peace in this chaos because I know at the end of this story it will be clear that only He was her rescuer. No one else will get the credit and that will speak more clearly to her than paperwork signed by people who will forget her face and never hear her story. So we fight knowing that the battle is the Lord's. I felt like God gave me the story of the persistent widow in Luke 18. I hold tightly to verse 7 and part of verse 8: "And will not God bring about justice for His chosen ones, who cry out to Him day and night? Will He keep putting them off? I tell you, He will see that they get justice, and quickly." So I pray most of all for justice, and quickly.
I was talking to my mom recently and saying how I wish there were more families who would fight for these kids. And while we discussed all the great reasons that families like ours wouldn't want to throw themselves into the mess of foster care (I swore we would never become foster parents for those very reasons!), it got me thinking. First of all, we aren't foster parents because we want to adopt children who will fit perfectly into our family. We became foster parents because we believed God called us to be a part of His plan to rescue the little girl that was living with us. And while there are many, many difficulties and drawbacks, ultimately there is nothing better than being exactly where God wants you. More importantly, there is nothing more rewarding than being a part of God at work, and being used by Him to accomplish His plan. We use the stories of Moses and Jonah all the time as illustrations of how ridiculous it is to run from God's plan. Because we can skip ahead to the end of the story, we see how foolish it is that Moses tried to use a simple stutter to pass off the responsibility of leading God's people in a mass exodus out of slavery and into His promised land. God could have used someone else to accomplish the same rescue plan. But then Moses would never had felt God's power course through his walking stick to part the Red Sea; he never would have looked over his shoulder at the waves of people following him towards freedom; he never would have climbed Mt Sinai and seen the face of God and been so transformed that his face literally shone with God's glory. We don't limit God by our refusal to be a part of His plan, but we miss out on all that God will do in and through us if we lay aside our excuses and jump in. I think of all the times I've used Jonah as an (obvious!) example of why we should obey God, and how ridiculous it is to try to run from Him. But we know that whale's coming when we open the book - pretty sure if Jonah had been able to skip ahead he would have made a different choice. And hindsight being 20/20, there are so many times that I have ignored God's voice because I didn't know what was coming. Wouldn't it be great if we just did what we told our children and followed directions the first time? While I swore up and down we wouldn't do foster care, now that I'm in the thick of it and have hindsight and all that, I see things differently. Yes, it's messy and difficult and at times painful. And yes, we have plenty of other things on our plate without adding a traumatized child with way too much baggage. This year we have struggled with infertility, a miscarriage, and the possibility of our oldest daughter having cancer. We carry enough baggage. And while I haven't felt God pass through my walking stick to part the local body of water, I have watched Him transform a little girl. I have felt how powerful His words are when spoken in her voice. I have been granted more peace and patience and strength than I would have dared asked for. And when I look back, I have watched God's faithfulness prove true in our family over and over again. So while I hate this process, I am humbled and grateful to be part of God's plan. I'm not saying that God is telling you to be a foster parent. But I am telling you that here in this broken world in need of a Savior, He wants to use you to be part of His rescue plan. There is a job He is calling you to do, and you won't regret throwing your excuses out the window and jumping in.
More than anything, this journey of foster care has taught me to depend on God. And this little girl, who clings to Jesus and the hope He brings, has taught me that God will work in and through us if only we allow Him to. So happy one year anniversary, little girl. We are so thankful God brought you into our lives.
