Although it still didn't seem "the right time", I could no longer turn away vowing to visit again. It was past time to answer the gospel call of faith giving birth to sacrificial service. Not out of duty, but because it was no longer possible to find contentment in my own comfort. The call had been getting steadily louder over the years and I couldn't pretend it was for someone else anymore.
This began the more intentional conversation with my husband and praying. Lots of praying. The conclusion we reached together was to begin the process of looking into getting licensed for foster care. This process was more lengthy for us than some, partially due to switching the party through whom we were licensed early on and partially, if I'm honest, due to the fears ever hovering under the surface of my thoughts.
Some people seem to undertake foster care from a selfless place of overflowing love for children in need. While I certainly have a softness toward those in need and am more than willing to get involved, this isn't a weekend project or an occasional letter to a sponsored child overseas. I longed to be one of those who, full of idealism and excitement, dives in with gusto to make a difference in the life of a child. I even sort of talked myself into thinking that's how I felt, until we got licensed. And calls with referrals began coming in at a rapid pace. And we had an overnight "trial" with two children that would be our first placement.
I managed to fool myself pretty well until that overnight. Then I panicked. "What are we doing?!" "We can't do this!" "How can I handle the energy of these two little ones?!" "How will we still manage to homeschool...or do anything for that matter?!" "We just went through all the time and training to get licensed and now I'm gonna cave. I'm going to give up. I'm going to back out." "Does anyone get this far and realize they just can't do it?!" These are a few of the near hyperventilation-inducing thoughts streaming through my consciousness on the day we took them back to their shelter mom, a place one had been living for seven months and the other three months. What is supposed to be short term emergency care until placement can be found in a county overrun with need, but pretty barren when it comes to loving homes ready to care for the needy, ends up being anything but short term. I couldn't even look shelter mom in the eyes when we left. Couldn't bring myself to quietly indicate to her these two souls were more than I/we could handle.
The car ride home was a mixture of sadness and relief. I thought that was it. I told myself we wouldn't back out of foster care, but this just wasn't the right placement. I called our caseworker and spoke to her about our concerns. She was very understanding and gracious, but also gave possible solutions to our issues. She wasn't pushy, but also didn't let us back out rationalizing all the reasons this wasn't the right "fit". She gave us a couple of days to think it over.
It was then that I had to come to terms with my own selfishness. Our caseworkers solutions resolved all of our issues, but instead of that bringing relief, I remained panic-stricken. I began to face the fact, perhaps really for the first time, that I have been a tremendously selfish person with my time, my routine and our finances in many more areas than I had previously recognized. While our concerns about our family, homeschooling, etc were valid, the real reason I did not want to accept this placement was because it was going to take a huge amount of my time and energy. It seems funny to even type that. I did sign up to be a foster parent. What did I really think was going to be required? All I can say is, it's one thing to know it intellectually and it's another to know it to the core of your being that your life is about to turn upside down.
We spent a lot of time praying and reaching out for prayer in those couple of days. However, ultimately we did exactly what I knew all along God was calling us to do. Leave our worries of, "How am I going to do this??", behind. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Trust Him to supply our every need, physically, emotionally and spiritually because the truth is I can't do this. But He can, even through a selfish, broken person like me.
When I was in college (and not following the Lord I might add) my mantra during particularly stressful projects, exams, etc was, "I'm not gonna die from this." It was surprisingly comforting to remind myself the stress, though real, wasn't fatal. A dear friend going back to school many years later enjoyed my mantra when I shared it with her and found it to be biblical. Psalm 118:17 says, "I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the LORD." I think it may be my life verse.
We accepted that placement, our first. A month out from it, I'm so very glad we did. More to come on that and recounting the deeds of the LORD, but that is for another post.
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