CASTING BLAME: There, but for the Grace of God, Go I."

Yesterday, I posted the story of God waking me up from a deep sleep prompting me to think about the possibility of accidentally leaving one of my little ones in the car by making me think I had forgotten my 5-year-old in the car the night before!  I hadn’t actually left him, but within 2 hours of being jolted awake with that feeling, my visiting 4-year-old granddaughter was actually forgotten for a few moments in the car after a quick trip to school for drop off. 

God knows me well.  If it had been a vague feeling about something that might happen in the future, I probably would have dismissed it as my thought. 

If I had actually left a child in the car, I like to think that I would have been prompted much sooner! But by making me stop, process and think about what I had done it was at the forefront of my busy mind.

When my son wasn’t at breakfast (which actually isn’t unusual), it made me ask for more detail and gave me the chance to talk to the kids.

So, because I was so checked into this crazy feeling, when it actually happened within a few hours, God had prepared me to act.

 

The truth is, even if she had been left longer, it was neither too hot nor too cold to cause any long-term damage to her body.  But it would have messed with her emotions. And it would have been terribly scary.

But God protected her.  If it had just been me or my husband, we could have forgotten her for longer.  I could have thought she was back upstairs in the playroom playing with her cousin’s Barbies.

When new factors are introduced - a grandchild that isn’t usually with us on a school morning and normally doesn’t ride along for the trip to school – it is easy to go into rote action mode, not really thinking about what you are doing, but just doing it.

Likewise, when you do the same thing over and over again, sometimes you actually think that you have done something, when actually you did it yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, but NOT today.

But your brain can play tricks on you.  And so can the Enemy. 

It’s not always about caring or not caring. 

It’s not always about loving or not loving.

It’s not always about selfishness or selflessness.

It’s not always too many children or not enough experience.

It’s not always about work or something else being more important.

It’s not about anything other than humanity.

When tragedy strikes a family, I cringe when people are critical of the parent(s). I can’t stand to see the daggars come out as people try to find someone to blame, as if that will solve the problem. 

Although it is certainly possible for some of these situations to be the result of abuse or neglect, the result of drugs or alcohol, truthfully, that isn’t the norm.

I know what abuse and neglect looks like.  I live with the consequences every day.

I also know what it means to be human.  To be overwhelmed.  To be lost in your own thoughts.  To make a mistake. 

And who is going to suffer more than the parent who makes this mistake?

The people casting judgment will forget the incident.

They will forget the name of the one who is now gone.

Their lives will move on as if nothing ever happened. 

Some of these people feel, “It can’t happen to me.”

“I would never let that happen to my child.”

“How could you forget your child?”

 How can you think that you dropped off your child at daycare when you didn’t?"

And it is these people that scare me.  The ones who actually believe they could never make this kind of tragic mistake.

I am an educated woman who has voluntarily dedicated most of my adult life to helping children.  I have more experience than most people.  I have more education and knowledge than many.  Yet, I could easily make a mistake that harms someone else.  And that scares me enough to be hyper vigilant and to listen to the promptings and intuitions that I am given.  

But if I ever did make this kind of tragic mistake, I would hope that people would consider my humanity and the bigger picture and not cast immediate judgment on me.

For the record, I’m not above reproach on the judgment problem.  I confess that on the same evening all this happened, I read about the Sommer Wilford, a Birmingham woman who supposedly watched her child burn in a car fire following an accident without telling the police or firemen her son was in the car.  They found his body after the fire was out.

The article clearly implied this she knowingly let him die.  It even mentioned charges of reckless murder.  And possible drug use.  Her wild hair and what looked like a smirk in her mug shot didn’t help her case.  Admittedly, I went in the precise direction that the author of the article intended.  Casting blame on the mom for ruthlessly watching her beautiful son die in the fire.  I even repeated the story to my husband.

But thankfully, I make it a habit not to comment publicly before I’ve done my own research. Out of curiosity, I checked out her young fiance’s Facebook page and found family portraits of a large extended family together with his handsome blonde-haired little boy. 

And this was his last entry.

Cody Allen February 28

People look if someone has shit to talk its (deleted his address) where I am I mean you people are clueless she didn't let him die she would never do that that baby was our world and it got taken from ous all of you saying dope was involve I can assure you there was no dope involved no one knows what happened bc guess why no one seen what happened but them and god So before you make all these horrible assumptions stop have some respect and dignity this news thing has taking it way to far and I will personally be putting a stop to it But no matter what is said done etc. nothing can bring my precious baby back he will dearly be missed and please All I am asking for is for everyone to stop until you find out the true story bc I don't even know yet but she was my better half and either of us would have done anything to stop this anything and yes No Matter what I will stand behind her till the end please pray for my family and stop the nonsense

Suddenly, Sommer Wilford wasn’t an object of blame.  She was a human.  With a story.  And a fiancé who believed in her. 

And that’s when I had to recognize that I was judging without all the facts. Perhaps she was under the influence. Maybe the tragedy itself caused her to go into a state of shock that caused her to dissociate from reality.  Or she could be an evil person who wanted her son to die. 

I have no idea what the truth will turn out to be.  And I’m not going to try to figure it out.

Instead, I will pray.  God the Father, wrap your arms around this family and their friends.  Reveal yourself to them during this tragedy.  Let their minds be filled with joy.  Protect them from the comments and people’s opinions.  If drugs or alcohol are involved, I ask that you remove addictions.  Keep the family focused on what is important.  Heal their wounds and surround them with others that will lead them to you.  

Amen.

"Thank God: I Can't Do This Parenting Thing Alone."

"Thank God: I Just Can't Do This Parenting Thing Alone"

By Anna Giattina Lee

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and my brain goes from 0 to sixty in 0.4 seconds.   

Yesterday, I woke up an hour earlier than normal with a panicked feeling that I had left my 5-year-old asleep in the freezing cold car overnight. 

I had driven home from church last night in our 15-passenger van filled with children that fell asleep during the ½ hour ride home.  I am fairly cautious because I am not dumb enough to believe that I would never get distracted or change my routine, accidentally forgetting a child in the car.

But after a mental playback in my head, I distinctly recalled giving him my ipad for his nightly video ritual.  I also knew that I had made a visual check of the many sleeping kids in the car when we got home from church and that with only one remaining, I saw my husband unbuckle the baby and out of an abundance of caution, I reminded him to make a visual check of all the seats one more time before closing the doors. 

Persuaded that this was not one of “those” times when I was specifically being called to act immediately, I was able to go back to sleep for another hour. 

As soon as I woke up, I went straight to the kitchen to begin making breakfast. I noticed that my 5 –year-old wasn’t in the kitchen.  So I asked where he was.  My husband said, “He’s still in bed.”

Unconvinced, I said, “Have you personally seen him because I woke up with the feeling that I had left him in the car.”

Pausing for just a moment, he says with confidence, “He is definitely in his bed.” A few others joined in claiming that dad was right and I believed them.

Realizing I had a teachable moment, I talked to the kids, including my 4-year-old granddaughter who had spent the night with us.  We talked briefly about watching out for each other to be sure that we all get out of the car. 

My 10–year-old asked, “What do we do if the doors are locked?” 

Almost in disbelief, I look at her and say, “You reach over and unlock the door. “

She laughed saying, “I’ve never thought about that before.”

At that moment I realized that the technology had skewed her understanding.  She always waited for me to unlock the doors and it didn’t occur to her that you could do it another way. 

My husband was not in the room during this conversation. It was a short conversation – more of a reminder than anything else.  

But my brain was clearly fixed on this idea.  Images of a child left in the car by her mother or father reeled in my mind.  I have done it myself  more than once – although for just minutes. I know one person who endured this heart-wrenching loss.  And as an attorney, I am always thinking about what is reasonably foreseeable.

Fast forward 30 minutes.  It is time for my husband to take the kids to school.  My granddaughter Ava asks if she can ride along. Five kids get into the car for the 2-minute ride to school.

Less than 10 minutes later, my husband walks into the house while I’m folding the laundry and comes directly to where I am. Without any thought, my first question is “Where’s Ava?” 

With a somewhat stunned expression, I see his brain trying to process what I’m saying.  I shout, “She’s in the car.  She’s locked in the car.  Run.  Run.  She is going to be terrified. “

My husband bolts to the parking pad, unlocking the doors with the remote and running to open the door.  Inside is our granddaughter, tiny tears just beginning to stream down her cheeks.  We grab her and hold her tightly, apologizing for leaving her behind. 

When she gets back inside, I rock her and tell her that everything is fine and that God has protected her by prompting me. 

The entire incident from locking her in to retrieving her occurred in less than 2 minutes.  But it was that two minutes that convinced me that God is looking out for his children far better than me or my husband are capable of doing. 

With the memory still fresh, we talk about why she didn’t get out of the car.  In her tiny little voice, she squeaks, “I tried, but Papa locked the door with the remote.”

I know that she had just heard us talk about this exact situation, but it was too abstract for her.  So we took her back to the car and showed her how to unlock the car from the inside.  And how, if the child locks were on, she could always get out through the driver's door.  Confident and with a smile, she came back inside realizing that she could escape if it ever happened again.

The whole situation is so predictable.  There was a change in my husband’s routine. The one he has followed for years.  An extra child.  Young.  Unusually quiet.  And one who didn’t know how to unlock the doors from the inside.

I don’t blame my husband.  And no one should.  There, but for the grace of God, go I. 

And I hope you know that is not the point.  Rather, it is to say, that this episode is one of many that persuade me that I can’t do this parenting thing without God.  It is simply too hard.  Too many things can go wrong. 

But he’s got my back. 

This isn’t the first time I have been awakened from a deep sleep by a compelling feeling.  And I’ve learned to listen.  I must.  Or I’m an idiot. 

Nappy Hair, Shredded Shoelaces and Financial Decisions: Learning to Be Happy With What We Have

Nappy Hair, Shredded Shoelaces and Financial Decisions:  

Learning to Be Happy With What We Have 

December 12, 2013

We were already supposed to be in the car on the way to church when my 7-year-old comes to me with nappy hair.  We took down her hair yesterday with the intent to wash and re-braid it. 

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, I spent last night in deep conversation with my daughter about some pretty tough subjects.  And today, her hair isn’t even brushed because even that would take 30 minutes and it really needs to be wet and reconditioned to do it well. 

To make matters worse, this same child shredded her shoelaces yesterday when she tried to get them untied after she played in the mud.  It wasn’t her fault.  They are designed to shred so we will have to buy more.  But I have only had $1.09 in my bank account since November 24, the day after my daughter’s beautiful wedding, and we try not to use credit unless it is absolutely necessary.  So buying new laces seems like a luxury.

So I make two quick decisions.  Let her go to church with nappy hair and hopefully find time to fix it before school tomorrow.  And meticulously braid the shoelace so that it can be re-tied. 

These were both choices. 

I could have chosen to skip church or buy new laces.  But I didn’t.

And life is all about choices.

Yesterday, I read that it costs $1.50 MORE per day per person to eat a healthy fresh diet.  That seems like such a small investment given the long-term benefits.  However, for our family, who already eats lots of fresh food, that translates to about $500 per month more than our current budget – the cost of pre-school for one of my young boys with some special needs.

Twenty years ago, when we were a 2-income professional family with three children, that was absolutely no big deal.  I could spend that much on clothes in one month. 

But our choices have led us down another path.

Quite frankly, I realize that we are so comparatively wealthy that the decisions I am going to write about look asinine to a divorced mother trying to raise 3 children alone, or to one of the poverty stricken families that our family engages with on a daily basis.  

We are not wanting for anything that we really need.  But in the social, financial, and neighborhood circles that are my life, we know that we are not the norm.

I guess my thoughts are really for those of us who have the capacity to make choices. I’m speaking to those of us (myself included) who recognize that sometimes we really aren’t making choices at all.  Rather, we have fallen into the trap of believing that we must or should have something to show for our hard work, our position of privilege, our education, or our training – even if that means going into debt to have it.

I dare to say that we aren’t actually choosing.  Rather, we have allowed ourselves to be conditioned by the world of marketing, fashion, privilege and planned obsolescence to believe that we actually need a fancy house, expensive clothes, a zillion extra-curricular activities, lots of toys, a new car every two years, and generally, the best of everything – or at the very least, the best we can afford or obtain on credit.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not criticizing those who make these choices.  I have made them myself more times that I care to admit.  I still do. But I’m trying to re-condition myself to understand the difference between want and need.  The difference between it would be nice and I can wait or forego it all together. 

I was raised with incredible opportunities.  My parents were not even remotely wealthy, but my parents modeled for me how to live frugally and without credit, while sharing everything we had and never asking for anything in return.  

Moreover, as far as I know, my parents never made a decision based on what other people had or thought about us.   We weren’t given the latest and greatest anything unless it was useful to our lives in some way.  I recall a blow dryer and a calculator as the really big gifts for the entire family one Christmas in the mid-70’s.  

We didn’t have a color television or the trendy toys.  We had baby dolls and erector sets and crafts and Lincoln logs and Legos and swings and sandboxes and trees.  (The fact that my father was an architect might have something to do with all the building sets.  I had never thought of that before!)

My mother cooked every night and we had visitors at our home almost all day every day.  Yet, she made one major monthly shopping trip (and smaller trips for fresh goods) and we rationed food.  She made the same amount of food every night – no matter who joined us for dinner.  And somehow, it was always enough.

With the help of my parents, I made a lot of good decisions when I was a young adult.  I was able to attend law school because my parents had the foresight to invest in my education throughout my life.  My first house (which my grandparents helped me buy) made a huge profit in a short time, which set the stage for our future homes. Even after I quit working to stay home, my husband’s career, his choice to quit renting space and move his office to the basement of our home, and the booming economy allowed my husband and me to invest in a much larger home that was custom built for our fast-growing family of birth, foster and adopted children. 

The story of our home is wonderful, miraculous and heart-warming in and of itself. Many people, including the builder and many of the sub-contractors, went above and beyond to give us exactly what we needed, as well as some of what we wanted, to raise our super-sized family. 

As a result, we live in a great family-oriented neighborhood with caring neighbors who look out for each other.  Our home is 6600 square feet designed to blend into our mixed income, but upscale neighborhood.  However, our home is furnished in what I like to call “Early American Thrift Store.”  I pinch pennies every day.  Yesterday, as I finished pre-cooking 40 pounds of potatoes that I got for $8.00 at Aldi and then washed 15 Ziploc bags to re-use, I ruminated about how time-consuming it is to save pennies.

Things are different than they were in the 80’s and 90’s.  The economy has tanked.  My husband has lost many of his clients, in part because his clients have lost their businesses.  We have chosen to care for 21 children and we financially support almost all of them in some way.

And instead of practicing law or teaching, I’m staying home always looking for ways to be thrifty and save money. (Now that I think about it, I would have to have an excellent job to justify the childcare expenses for our 8 children that would need childcare, so working isn’t really an option anyway – but it was when we had many fewer children.) 

Nonetheless, for us to have so many children and for me to stay home and forego my potential income, we have to make choices.  And we choose to make do.  We choose to scrimp and save. 

We choose to allow our nappy-headed girl with braided shoe strings go to church looking pretty raggedy. 

We choose to live in an upscale neighborhood where we are sure our children are safe and free to roam around. Yet, we choose to wear hand-me-downs,  clothes that are donated to us, and what we can find at thrift shops, consignment shops and garage sales.

We choose to drive older model cars until they literally can’t be driven again, and to leave the bumper hanging down on our ugly 15-passenger van, which was damaged by a hit and run driver in front of our house.

We choose to send homemade nutritious snacks (that the kids hate) to school instead of the more convenient, but expensive, junk food that they LOVE!

We choose to have 8 bedrooms filled with young children and many of our young adult children, who use the bedrooms when they need them.

We generally choose to give away everything when we finish using it, rather than selling it to make money.

We choose to have a family of 5 living in our basement with a make-shift kitchen and a half-bath with huge painter’s canvas stapled to the 2x4’s, because we spent our money on the toilet and sink and decided not to invest our resources in having it sheet rocked, finished and painted. (If we had more money, we would add a bathtub!)

We choose to allow our 5-year- old to wear pants that are 4 inches too short – not because he must – but because he insists on wearing the tan corduroy pants with pockets. 

We choose NOT to give our kids extra money in their lunch account for ice cream, and we rarely give them money for junk food except on very special occasions.

We rarely choose to eat out because it could easily cost $60-100 per meal to feed us – even at a fast food place,  although we hate that we miss multiple opportunities to socialize with our friends.

We choose not to give our kids money to spend every time they ask.  Ironically, as I type these words, my 6-year-old runs up to me from basketball practice begging me for money to get a drink from the vending machine.  With no qualms, I tell him to go get water from the fountain.  But my resolve doesn’t lesson his determination.  Even when he pleads that he is sooo thirsty and he doesn’t want water, and he’s hungry and he will find something "healthy" like chips, I stand my ground.  

Instead, we choose to give our children a very small allowance that forces our children to make choices too.

We choose to allow one particular kid, who shall remain nameless, to wear the same stupid shirt over and over again (washed daily) because it is his favorite.  Even though they have plenty of choices.  Even though it looks like he doesn’t have any choice.

I say these things not because I want anyone to feel sorry for us.  

There is absolutely no reason to feel that we are somehow missing something.  We have good credit.  We can borrow money.  If there is a real need – our parents or family or friends will help us – often without us asking.

Don’t get me wrong.  We feel grateful and honored and loved when people take the time to notice what we need (or want) and either ask us how they can help, or simply surprise us.

But we try not to live in expectation that this is how we will manage to keep up with society’s view of what we should have and what we should do. 

I don’t think it is an accident that we tend to surround ourselves with people who could care less that we don’t keep up with the Jones’.  There was a long period when I felt judged and guilty because it looked like my kids didn’t have equal opportunities – although I really think it was my insecurities rather than other’s actions that caused my feelings. 

The reality is that others know our situation and our choices and when our children are with them, some choose to pay for things that we can’t, or that we decide against.   I would never know about these acts of kindness, except that my children tell me.  These people know that we aren’t in a position to make the same choices or to reciprocate in kind, so when they choose to bless my child –  I have learned to feel grateful without feeling embarrassed.  I rest knowing that these friends are making their own choice and I don’t have to feel guilty because I don't provide everything for my children that they are providing for theirs.

I don’t worry that my kids are in need.  If there is a need that we can't meet alone, God will prompt someone to give us exactly what we need when we need it.  And if we are impatient and have a need, then we aren’t too proud to ask for help.

I don’t worry that my kids aren’t wearing the newest, most up-to-date clothing.  As an independent thinker and non-conformist, I love that they have each developed their own sense of style.  Well, I must admit I don’t always love the way they look and I would hesitate to call some of it a style– but it is a price I’m usually willing to pay --  unless they are going to a place where it is important to ME that they look a certain way.  Just so you know, I did have to draw the line at wearing underwear yesterday! One of my young boys decided that going commando was a good idea.  I had a strong opinion about that!

I don’t worry that my kids have already spent their allowance and don't have money to go to the movies, or the arcade, or out to eat, or whatever with their friends every time that they are asked. I’m training them to make choices and decisions for themselves.  I would love to have the money to freely allow them do more without worrying about taking money from the food budget, but like myself as a child, I think that our limitations force them to be more creative and resourceful and ultimately, more responsible. And I have witnessed the blessings of others as they give their time and money to us and to our children – not looking for anything in return.

I don’t worry because I know that I take into account my childrens’ emotional needs when making each financial decision.  There are times when one of my kids has an emotional NEED to feel special, or to experience something, or to try something out - and that is a priority.  So no matter how broke we are – I will make sure that we use our limited resources in a way that helps meet this child’s emotional and psychological well-being – to the extent that money makes a difference.

So, some days, hair and clothing gets missed, I forget to send in the 50^th white t-shirt for an art project, the nap towel gets forgotten, or we don’t buy the professional photos of our child’s first day of kindergarten and a photo with Santa, because we have chosen to dedicate our limited resources, like time, money, emotional strength, etc., to something we think is more valuable.

In the end, I want to be okay with what we have.  I want to be satisfied.  I don’t want to be trying to look for the next best thing.  I’m not there yet.  But I don’t want to try to keep up with the Jones’.  And I want the same for my kids.  I want them to be happy and grateful for what they have – even when it isn’t what others have.

That requires choices.  And we make them every day.  Some good.  Some bad.  Some wise.  Some not so much.  But in the end, we want to be known as a family that trusts God to provide what we need, even when it isn’t what we think we want. 

And that’s my approach to Christmas this year.  I want to go into that day satisfied with what we have, and knowing that what we are given is exactly what we need. And that is good enough for me. 

Answering Your Life's Calling

This entry originally appeared as a guest blog for Catie Lumpkin's ThisHighCalling.blogspot.com for Foster Care Month, May 2013.  Check out her blog!

Preface:  I am a 50-year-old mamma with 20 children that are legally ours and another 30 or so that have come through our home.  I grew up as a foster sibling to medically fragile children and then became a foster and adoptive parent when I married.  I have been living this lifestyle for 40 years. 

Sometimes, I feel that I’ve become too jaded and tired to recruit foster and adoptive families. But then I remember that in the face of thousands of obstacles, my husband and I continue to choose to follow this path.  That speaks volumes to me about our relationship to our calling.

I know that my views are not universal.  There are plenty of people who will tell you to do what feels good.  What makes you happy.  I disagree with that basic premise.  I don’t believe we were put on this earth to find “happiness” for ourselves based on whatever we feel at any given moment.

In that light, my words do not address the tremendous need for foster and adoptive parents of older children (which I define as any child old enough to remember details of their past).  The need is well-documented. 

If you are reading this and you are already a foster or adoptive parent, you are likely to understand, but may need conviction to endure this journey. 

If you are thinking about fostering or adopting, I challenge you to read all the way to the end.  My approach is not particularly designed to make you feel good about yourself or about the potential impact you might have on these children.

Likewise, it is not designed to dramatize the incredible needs through sob stories. They are too numerous to repeat here.

Instead, I have chosen to focus on God’s calling and the need for you to carefully examine whether fostering and adopting older children (or any children at all) is your calling. 

 Answering Your Life's Calling

By Anna Giattina Lee

Within a week of living with us, the truth spilled out from our new 6 ½ year-old daughter.  From the backseat of my Suburban she revealed with determination,  “I’m going to make you hate me.  I’m going to make you send me away.” 

She was too young to realize that she was showing her hand, but old enough to know the drill. 

If she can intentionally behave so badly that we have no choice but to fear her. 

If she can “act” her way out of our home before we have a chance to get to know her and decide that we don’t like her or that she is too hard to keep. 

If she can create and/or determine the events that make us send her away BEFORE she has a chance to care about us.

Then  - in some small way - she feels like she is in control.  And control is something she desperately seeks.

Unconditional love. Unconditional acceptance. 

How do you persuade someone to open up his home, his life, his family, his church, and his heart to lost and hurting children that need temporary or permanent care?

How do you ask someone to set aside there own desires and make what could be a long-term commitment to someone that they haven’t even met and may not connect with right away? 

In a country where we promise to stay in our marriages “until death do us part,”  yet even active professing Christians regularly divorce,  how do you communicate to another that unconditional love and commitment is a choice, but once given shouldn’t be broken?

How do you explain that - after a short honeymoon phase - for the most part these young people will act like they don’t want to be a part of your life;  they will challenge you, your patience and your self-control in hundreds of ways on a daily basis; and they are likely to reject you and your values for longer than you can imagine or justify.

How do you help someone hear the calling on his or her life, when it goes contrary to the “I deserve to be happy” American philosophy, and the “God wants me to be happy” Christian agenda?  

How can my commentary compete with famous evangelical Christians like Pat Robertson, who last August declared to a single woman with three adopted children that was having trouble finding a relationship: “A man does not want to take on the United Nations.”  Mr. Robertson went on to describe a dear friend that adopted “a little kid from an orphanage” that was brain damaged and grew up “weird.” 

How can I compete with the fear of weird perpetuated by famous Christians?

Before Mr. Robertson realized the error of his words, he continued, “You just never know what’s been done to a child before you get that child.  What kind of sexual abuse there’s been, what kind of cruelty, what kind of food deprivation etc., etc., etc.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HhyJpLIpRVA.  He concluded that thought saying, “You don’t have to take on other people’s problems.”

Respectfully, I say, “No sir.  We may have no idea about their past experiences. The kids didn’t make the choice to be abandoned, neglected or abused. And yes, even with our best efforts, they might grow up “weird.”

In his defense, Mr. Robertson did suggest that people can help orphans in other ways, “but that doesn’t mean that you have to bring them into your home.”

Unconditional love.  Unconditional acceptance. It’s a choice.

Looking at Mr. Robertson’s words in their best possible light, he unwittingly makes the point that you have to choose to foster or adopt. No one can make you do it if you don’t want to.  To that degree, I agree.

Absolutely, positively no one should foster or adopt if he or she is not called to it. 

Notice, I did not say “if you don’t feel called” to it. 

It’s too easy to deny the feeling to do something that is going to be hard and change your life.

So the real question is:  Who is called?

I wish I had that answer. But that is a question that I must defer to God and his Believer.

When people learn that we foster and adopt so many children, almost every person says the same thing, “I could never do what you are doing.” 

And I have a stock response. “Then don’t do what I am doing.  Do whatever God is calling you to do.  And I promise.  He is calling you to something.”

I know this is truth because of words like those found in Mark 10:45, “Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all.  For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

I wish I could cast my web of judgment and tell you directly that 

YOU should be caring for the orphans because knowing that there are no more lost or hurting children is a BIG deal for me.

But the call for all is to service.  What that service looks like will be different for each person because there are a tremendous variety of needs to be fulfilled.

The only thing I can be sure of is that God is calling more people to foster and adopt than are answering the call. 

We can choose.  We are given that privilege. But that choice requires more.  Unconditional love.  Unconditional acceptance.

As Believers, we have been unconditionally adopted into God’s family.  He is our Abba Father.  We are his children.  He loves us unconditionally.  But, as a member of God’s family, we are asked to set aside our own desires and accept God’s will for our lives.  God opens his home, his life, his church and his heart to the lost and hurting.

Like these lost and hurting children, sometimes in our struggle to walk with God we are angry or defiant and we don’t want to walk with him.  We blame him for our losses. We challenge his patience and wrath daily.  We often reject his values, just like stubborn children.

Are we any different from the children who test and challenge us and our commitment to them?

In my mind and heart, I believe that our Christian walk is designed to make us more like Jesus.  To follow his lead and his instruction.  To attempt, as best we can, to do what Jesus did.  If that is true, then how can we deny our role in caring for those who are needy?

After I wrote those words, it occurred to me to check the beliefs of my mind and heart with God’s Word.  I Googled “act more like Jesus.”  A verse came up that I had never noticed before in reference to fostering and adopting. 1 Peter 2:21-23. For what credit is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure? But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps.

You don’t get any special credit for enduring punishment for the consequences of your sin.  It’s expected. 

But if you do good and even in doing good you suffer and endure, God appreciates it.

The words that really caught my attention for the first time, perhaps ever, is that we have all been called to suffer. I tend to think of suffering as it relates to pain or loss.  But when I looked up the word, it also means, to “allow something, to be adversely affected, or to undergo something unpleasant.”

Somehow, these words in Peter explain so much about my not so popular views.

Unconditional love. Unconditional acceptance. We have a choice to accept our calling.  To suffer and endure.  To take up the cross.  To be more like the Savior we profess to worship.

I spent almost a month trying to figure out the words I wanted to convey to those who crossed my path. I didn’t feel like I was supposed to tell you about our foster and adoptive success stories, although there are quite a few. 

I didn’t feel like I was supposed to dwell on how good you will feel doing the hardest thing you will ever do.

I didn’t feel like I should focus on the rewards that come from following God’s calling on your life. 

Perhaps it is because I’m a little old fashioned and I really really really don’t like to reward my kids for doing what they are supposed to do because it is the right thing to do.

I know rewards work – it is called behavior therapy – but I despise rewards for what is expected or required in life.  It goes against everything I feel inside and everything I want to teach my kids about the value of doing what is good or right simply because it is good or right. 

My thoughts suddenly seem so clear. 

Fostering and adopting is not something you do because you will see results or benefit from it. It is something you do because you are called to do it. 

Sometimes, it feels far more like suffering that anything else.  But God has never failed to let me know that he values what I do.  Sometimes, that is shown through a changed life.  Other times, he shows me that if I do whatever I do for His glory, then I’ve done my part regardless of the outcome.

It is important to understand that you don’t have to know how to do this incredibly difficult job before you accept the calling.  You don’t have to have all the answers. What I do is not based solely on my experience,  knowledge or perfection.  It is messy.  And sometimes ugly.  I act selfishly more times than not.  And I get angry and frustrated and tired.  I want more time for myself.  I want the problems to simply go away. 

But God equips. God provides.  We are the vessel.  Ironically, God will work far more on Us and our character than We will ever do for the children he brings into our life.

All this takes me back to the story of when my newly adopted daughter challenged me at that stop sign during the first week she joined our family, I had very little experience with older children joining our family? But I knew what to say.

I glared at my 6 1/2 –year-old in the rearview mirror and said firmly, “You can make me angry and you can make me not like you.  But you can’t make me send you away.  We promised to love you and keep you and we will, no matter how you act.”

When I said that, I had no way of knowing the impact those words might have on her little mind and spirit.  But two years before she died in an automobile accident, she wrote some significant words in a Mother’s Day letter to me, “I still remember the first night I met you in Missouri. You didn’t phase me a bit. I thought you’d be gone in no time. I played that game way too many times, I knew how to win. But life has proven me wrong. I can’t win everything and I can’t do it all by myself.”

My heart’s desire is that you are convicted to think hard about your calling in this life.  I’m not trying to guilt you.  Nor to persuade you.  Because both of those will lead to a short-term commitment to whatever you do.

I want undeniable conviction for whatever your calling.

As a foster or adoptive parent, you will certainly need a deep-seeded desire and commitment to follow through no matter what.  And there are likely to be a whole lot of “no matter whats.”

It’s hard.  Very hard.  But I have NEVER wished that I was given another calling.

Post script: For other things to read that support my thoughts, here are a few sites to visit.

http://www.afamilyforeverychild.org/kids/AdoptingATeenager.php

http://www.adoptinfo-il.org/teensneeduncond/

http://www.adoptinfo-il.org/delayed-blessing/

http://www.adoptinfo-il.org/myadvice/

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1198914-5,00.html

http://lifelineadoption.blogspot.com/search/label/Domestic

http://www.davethomasfoundation.org/about-foster-care-adoption/

http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2012/09/25/factchecker-divorce-rate-among-christians/