It's A Boy!

Tonight, I'm "just" a mom. 

And it's absolutely wonderful.  Amazing.  A gift from God.

Actually, 4 gifts from God.  

Because one week and 2 days ago, Charlie went from being a "foster child" to becoming my son.

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     Four years ago, we began our journey of fostering with the desire to adopt.  While I know God called us to follow that path, I've grown in ways I never could have imagined--or, quite frankly, never desired.  Would I have said 'yes' to God if I had known it would take 4 years to adopt?  Would I have said 'yes' if I had known the journey would lead me to say, "Whatever you need, Lord, and I'll still foster even if we never adopt."? Would I have said 'yes' to not only sitting alongside a birth mother at the pediatrician's office to praying for her, to rooting for her as she took steps to regain her parental rights, to truly calling her my friend?

     No.  I would have said 'no'.  I would have told God that I'm not that strong, I can't do short-term placements, and I'm not willing to show others the grace & forgiveness that You show me.

  Goodness, God is patient!  And so very wonderful.  Because over the past four years, my heart has broken--and then softened--to not only the needs around me, but to the people who are doing what they can to make a difference.  I find myself praying for and being inspired by one of the sweetest families I have ever met, as they follow God's call to foster and not adopt.  I'm more aware of the families within my church and town who foster, have fostered, or have adopted (regardless of the child's birthplace).  I get excited--and then anxious--and then prayerful--as I watch a precious friend's "foster to adopt" journey take so many twists & turns, and I long for the day she gets to declare, 'this is my son.'

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Tonight, I'm "just" a mom.

And it's absolutely wonderful.  Amazing.  A gift from God.

But I cannot wait until I can once again be declared a "foster mom"....whatever the outcome.

His Nickname isn't Simply a Nickname

Chip.

It's the name I suggested to Mike when a precious foster baby entered our home.  A baby who already had a name.  A baby we didn't know would one day become OUR son.

Chip.

"Are you sure it's a nickname for Charles?' Mike asked when I mentioned it.

Yes, I was sure.

Chip.

A cute way to describe our sweet, tiny, Charlie.

"I like it." said Mike.

Chip.

It was the name of my classmate's brother.....and was my brother's classmate.  The name he was called all the time, except for formal, official things.  The name that, for the past 12 years, has gone hand in hand with his given name, Charles.

Because, in every newspaper article, memorial, or other tribute, the young man who lost his life when the World Trade Center Towers collapsed is recognized by both his given name as well as his nickname.

Chip.

Would I have come up with this nickname regardless?  Maybe. But, I'm not really sure I would have made the Charles/Chip connection if I hadn't remained so aware of it these past 12 years.   

The "offhand" knowledge of a nickname that works for a child named 'Charles' contains a story that will truly allow our family to Never. Forget.

And it fits our little boy perfectly.

The Weight of Saying "No"

Today, I am a foster mom who is overwhelmed; brought to tears and on my knees in prayer.

I have spit-up on my sweater; I haven't gotten a full night's sleep in 7 months, and I'm holding a crying baby as I type.  But these things aren't the reason for my tears; they do not play a role in my broken heart.

Why the sadness?  Why the heavy heart when all in my life appears to be going so well?

Because two weeks ago I said "no".  No to the phone call asking us if we'd like to adopt two more boys.  Two boys, ready to be part of a forever family.  Two boys, ages 17 months and 7 months.  Two boys who deserve a loving, caring home.  Two boys who need know the security and comfort of a family.  Two boys who need Christ's love poured out to them on a daily basis.

I cannot stop thinking about those boys.  Can't stop praying for them, or wondering if we made the right decision.  If we need to change our decision.

We've prayed so long for God to grow our family through adoption.  And, God has graciously answered our prayers--we have just begun the adoption process for our foster son.  He is 8 months old.

And, as my husband gently pointed out, "LeAnne, that's 3 boys ages one and under.  We would need to buy a new car. We have a small house, and that is a huge undertaking.  I'm not sure you could handle it alone everyday when I'm at work and the older kids are at school."

I know Mike is right.  One thing that is so difficult as a foster parent is the balance of being in continual prayer for whatever God calls you to and flying by the seat of your pants.  Through our various "yes" and "no" responses over the past 3 years, Mike and I have balanced in a way that lets me know God's leading is playing a role in our decisions.

I called our licensing worker today to check on the boys.  After all, it's been 2 whole weeks.  They should have a home now, right?

No.  No home for these two boys.  They will soon go on the Waiting Child list for the state of IL.  I told our licensing worker I had been praying for the boys.

Her response? "PLEASE keep praying.  And if you know of anyone who may want to be a foster parent, PLEASE encourage them to take those steps."

WOW.  It was all I could do to not begin sobbing before the phone call ended.

So, I will continue to pray.  I will become more bold in my response when people make the off-hand comment, "oh, maybe we'll foster when our life is a little more calm".  

I will not stop praying for these boys.

And, I am grateful that while saying "no" to the 2 boys, it caused Mike and I to realize we would not have hesitated in saying "yes" to either one of them.

Maybe God is preparing us for something after all.

The Power of a Written Letter

Last week, my family lost one of our dearest friends.  For nearly 20 years (before her illness took away her ability to speak & have mobility), she and my mom shared moments of joy, laughter, stress, sorrow & concern.  My sophomore year of college, I was the concern.  My best friend was battling anorexia, and I was sinking into the muck and mire of depression.  It was the worst year of my life.  And then, one day, I got a letter---a letter that told how much I was being prayed for.  A letter that said she was keeping my mom company during my battle.  A letter that shared a prayer request about her own daughter.  A letter that brought hope. You know one of the hardest things since "Aunt Paula" died last week?  I vaguely remember throwing that letter out a few years ago. That letter had stayed with me through college, my wedding, becoming a mom, and many moves. But, I was in "clean & purge" mode, and had no idea that in just a few years I wouldn't have the person--and that I would give anything to have a "hard copy" of the love and prayers that radiated from her.  A grown woman wrote a letter to a floundering 19 year old, and the memory of it still sustains and encourages me. Don't ever underestimate how much a letter can mean to someone.   It is a precious way to build, maintain, and remember friendships.

The Refreshing Perspective of a Child

Today's travels included driving on a country road.  The kids and I passed by corn, farm houses, and the occasional dilapidated building.  And on one building, in spray paint, were the following words:

Kaitlin:  "Mom, I don't get it."
Me:  "That saying?  It means without God in our life, we won't have peace in our life.  But, when we have God in our life, even when things aren't easy, we can still experience His peace."

Kaitlin:  "I still don't understand."
Me:  "If we have God in our life-----

Kaitlin:  "Mom, I totally understand the saying.  But I do not understand why a Christian would vandalize a building!!!"

What do you say to that!?  Love my girl!

My Foster Parent 'Faith Walk'

After our third child was born, Mike and I made a decision--if God called us to have any more children, we would adopt.  After several years of prayer, we knew our calling:  foster and adopt a local child.  We have now been licensed foster parents for over two years.  So, how many kids now live in our home?  Three--the same three we've always had.  Here we sit, our family of five, and wonder if we chose the right path. Used the right agency.  Made the right decision.

Billboards screamed "Foster Kids are Our Kids!" The tears welled, my heart ached, but the phone didn't ring.  The goal of being a child's forever family remained nonexistent.

How could God call us to something and not use us?  But, you see, God has used us--for while no one else lives here right now, we have had the opportunity to foster four children.  Temporary placements--not our plan, but each time that was the outcome.  Four lives that forever changed our inward focus on self.  Four lives that very likely will play a role in what vocations my children pursue.  Four lives for whom we continue to pray.  Not one, but four.

When our journey began, I never imagined I could be "strong enough" to be someone's momma for just a brief moment in time.  But, God has stretched me. Used me. Grown me. Changed me.  I guess we followed the right path after all.

Guess Mom was Right After All

I love my mom.  And, when I grow up, I hope I can be like her.  Patient.  Humble.  Genuine.  Joyful.  Selfless.  Steady.  Smart.  Fun.  Involved.  

Above all else, she is quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry (James 1:19). Because of those qualities, I can look back at my life and see the humor my "know-it-all" attitude has added to her life over the years.  Here are a few examples:

When I was in grade school, I wanted my name to be “Jill Smith”.  Nothing misspelled, nothing mispronounced.  Do you know how many ways there are to spell LeAnne?  Leann.  Leeanne.  Lian.  Leanne.  LeAnn.  Leighann.  Leigh Ann.  Lee Anne.  And, whatever way my grandma chose for that year's birthday card.

• I will never give my child a name that can be spelled more than 1 way.
• What did I do?  Named my kids Kaitlin, Connor, and Kylie.

And, while I didn’t consider my last name anyone’s “fault”,  I could never figure out why “Ivaska” was so hard for people to spell or pronounce.  

• I can’t wait to have an easier last name!
• What did I do?  Married a Klopfenstein.

When I was a senior in high school, I was determined to go to Ithaca and study journalism. 

• I am going as far away as possible.  I would never go to college around here!
• What did I do?  Went to University of Iowa--2 hours away.  Completed my last 3 semesters of college at Bradley--and lived at home.

When I was 17, my mom said to me, “What is your future husband going to think about how messy you keep your closet?”

• My closet will be clean when I’m married.  That has nothing to do with how I keep my closet now.
• No comment (Although, I really wish I had responded with “I’ll marry someone who doesn’t care about the mess in my closet” because then I'd have gotten it right).

I’m the oldest of 4.  And, with 4 kids in the house, I was called Laurel, Joel, or Mark more than once.

• I will never call my kids by the wrong name!
• Sigh.

So, for all the times I erred and my mom's silence--and patience--proved her to be correct, I'm glad she put up with me.  And, I hope I can give my kids the same chance to look back and see that mom was right, after all.