Are you tired of hearing about this? I feel like everyone around me is tired of listening to me constantly talk about our fostering. Few people ask about it, and of course, it’s at the forefront of my thinking and praying, so if I am in a conversation with anyone for longer than 2.2 seconds, then that’s of course where the conversation turns for me.
I have to talk about it. I am so excited at this amazing journey that God has placed us on! I feel like it’s our Mission. I’d love to still do mission photography, I’d still love to go anywhere on this planet on a mission trip, but I feel so strongly that God has been building this, and preparing us for this for so long, that I can think of nothing else. I am in AWE. Complete and utter awe that God would grow us and mature us for this. It’s more than my human words can say. THIS is our Mission. I don’t have to go anywhere else. I don’t have to get on a plane and travel for hours. I don’t have to learn a new language. I don’t even have to have shots. And like a very wise friend told me, maybe it’s not for us to be the missionary…maybe we are to RAISE the missionaries. And I’m so perfectly alright with that.
I think my heart is just full.
And I’m trying not to think of the scary parts that everyone seems to want to share with me: the what-ifs, the unknown, and the nightmares of others. We are doing this for such different reasons than others I know have done it for. We’re not doing this for money, I don’t need it. God has blessed us, we don’t have too much that we forget where we came from and forget God. And we don’t have too little that we are corrupted and steal. We have enough for each day. I am satisfied. So we don’t do this for money. We don’t do this for some emotional need for a baby. They don’t stay babies. They turn into opinionated 5 year olds that won’t wear the cute, matching clothes that you pick out for them. They turn into 12 year olds that text on their phones constantly and forget the world around them. And they turn into 15 year olds who don’t turn their school work in and may, possibly be failing one or more of their classes…..except athletics, of course. That grade is a perfect 100%!
We feel passionately that this is our Mission. We are to help heal the hearts of the broken.
I’m praying that God will raise up around us a support system where I may not be seeing it. I don’t want to constantly have to be telling everyone around me about it, I feel like I’m boring everyone and/or begging prayers for us. I am just praying that God will ensure we have a strong support system for us by placing us on their hearts. (Does that sound selfish? Needy maybe? Yeah….probably a lot of both….) I just know that we will need it, and I don’t want to go into this alone. We’re going to need prayer warriors, and I don’t want to ASK people! HAHAHA
(I’m a little desperate aren’t I? LOL)
So, right now, we are sitting in the middle of more paperwork to finish and turn in. And one of those very important papers for us to turn in is our Child checklist. This is who we are willing to take. We can be as specific as we want to be! SERIOUSLY. The age we thought we wanted, God may be leading us into another direction, and I need clarity. I have to have an age. Birth to whatever. It’s the whatever that I’m waiting to hear about. My heart easily says birth to 18, however, we all know that’s just not practical. LOL My heart has never been very practical, that’s why God gave me Mike. He’s my brains when my heart is not practical. So, I’m praying desperately for an age, and for the child/children God has in store for us.
I don’t want MY heart, I want His. I don’t want MY desires, I want His. And I don’t want MY plan, I desperately want His…..even if it seems a little scary and maybe even a little lonely sometimes. We are willing, we are available, and we are ready. Where we are not ready, I pray He prepares us…and the child/children.
So many things to pray for, so many things to look forward to, and so many fears to pray He quiets for me. But we are so very close. So……very…….close.
My heart is full.