Who Cries Over Spilled Milk?

Want to know who cries over spilled milk?

The toddler--because you dropped his  cup.

The infant--because you put her down when you cleaned up the mess.

The dog--because she had to have a bath, thanks to you dumping milk on her back.

But you know who didn't cry?  That's right!  Mom.  Mom stayed laid-back and perfectly calm.

Until…..

Until the toddler opened the canister of baby formula and dumped it on the floor because you couldn't get to him in time due to the fact you were feeding the baby a bottle to stop her crying that started because you quit holding her when you cleaned up the milk you spilled and was still screaming when you gave the dog a quick bath, so now you've finally focused on the infant and in the meantime the toddler (who is no longer crying because you already gave him more milk) is now rummaging through the diaper bag and

BOOM.
There goes the formula.
Time to get the vacuum.
And pray the mama doesn't cry.

For the Birthday Boy

Eighteen days from now, my youngest son turns 2.

A son to whom I didn't give birth.

A son who entered our home as a foster placement when he was 3 1/2 weeks old.

A son who is hilarious, spunky, sweet, and truly picked by God to be our son.

A son who will someday have questions about his birthparents.  Who will wonder why he didn't leave the hospital with his mom after his birth.  Who will wonder why he lived with two different relatives before he came to live with us.

Will my little boy be able to grasp that our saying "yes" far outweighs all the "no's" in his life?  Will he think his birth mom should've tried harder & fought more for him?  Will he grow to hate the court system?

Within all the questions and "what-ifs" one thing is clear:  MY JOB IS TO PRAY.

Pray this little boy will know how very much we love him.  That we--his family--practically forget he's adopted.

Pray I can explain to my son that his birth mom--out of her love for him--voluntarily chose for us to become his forever family, because we could provide for him in ways she could not.

Pray he will know that his relatives--out of their compassion for him--each took him into their homes, yet sadly had to say "no" due to finances and other circumstances.

Pray he will see that the "the system" is a group of  people who--out of their concern for him--made safety, security, and stability their top priorities.

And my biggest prayer?  That I can teach my son not only how much God loves him, but that God has amazing things in store for him!

Eighteen days from now, my youngest son turns 2.

And I will thank God for one of the greatest gifts I've been given.

Happy Birthday, Charlie!  I love you!

Serving within the Wait

Last night, Mike asked how he could be praying for me.  And I shared.

I shared how God’s growing me--and moving me--towards something ‘more’ within the Foster Care Community.

I shared I’m not quite sure what that role looks like.

I shared that God doesn’t want me to run ahead of Him.  That right now, I need to remain bridled to Him and allow Him to teach me and grow me.  That right now, I need to work on being obedient and faithful.  That right now, I simply need to be content with my life--today’s life--no changes, additions, or “if onlys”.

I shared that I can currently do some neat things within the wait; wonderful, “behind the scenes” things that appear so little, yet can bring so much hope and encouragement to the people who ARE doing the ‘more’ within the Foster Care Community.

Perhaps my role will always be the “little things”.  I don’t know.

But I do know this:  God, for reasons I can’t quite figure out, has chosen me to have a heart--an ache--for foster care.  And it’s an ache I cannot ignore.


Prayers appreciated.

Precious in His Sight

"Aunt LeAnne, is Charlie Korean?" the 4 year old asked after she kissed the baby's tiny toes. 

I looked over at the blue-eyed, blonde-haired infant.  Kendra was now kissing his cheek.

"No, sweetie, he's not Korean."

"Oh," she said, slightly puzzled.  And, without another word, she skipped away to see her cousins.

In that moment, it was clear--she gets it!  She totally, totally gets it.

Here was a girl who had no concept of race.  No understanding of nationalities.  No opinions on foster children or foster families.  No thoughts on domestic versus international adoption.

But what did she understand?  Some children don't have families.  And those children need someone who will love and care for them.  

On her mom's side of the family, her aunt, uncle, and cousins were waiting to bring their newest addition--a sweet, precious baby boy--home from Korea.  And on her dad's side, her aunt, uncle and cousins had just brought home their newest addition--a sweet, precious baby boy--who was their most recent foster placement.

As I look back to that day nearly two years ago, I realize that Kendra never asked why we sometimes had "extra" kids and why we sometimes had only "our" kids.  Another time, she was thrilled to have a playmate her age--his race, how he came to be "in the system", and why were we letting him live with us--never, ever mattered.

Kendra had taken the word "Korean" and determined it wasn't an ethnic description of her cousin, but represented a simple fact:  children without families need families.

As Kendra gets older, I know she will begin to see that life isn't quite that simple.  But, with her growth will come true empathy.  Her parents have lovingly embraced the adoption and foster paths of their siblings, and have created a wonderful foundation of acceptance for their young daughter.  I cannot wait to see how God uses the little girl with the open heart.

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.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

     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.'

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

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.