The First Steps

I went to a meeting last night.  An informational meeting about foster care.

Because I wanna be a foster mama.

This summer will mark 19 years since I first felt the tug to mother the motherless.  I was barely 17, but I knew it was something I’d wanna do someday.

About three years ago Josh agreed, we need and want more children in this home.  And for the last three years I’ve been trying to get our house and my shiz together, thinking everything had to be just so, that I had to be just so, before we could add a child (or two or three) to our home.  However, I’m realizing I’m never gonna have my shiz together.  Ever.  And this house will never have its shiz together, either.

So I went to the meeting.  I had my questions answered, found out more information, heard stories, and wept.  I get weepy when I think of a child without his or her parents.  A baby without his mama.  I cry for that mama.  I cannot imagine my children being apart from me.  I’m sure she hates it too.  But while she gets the help she needs to be stronger for her child(ren), I want to help take care of her little for her.  And if the case is that she can’t ever have her baby back, then that baby will have a home here with us.  A forever home, a forever family.

For years I had heard that to foster, each child must have his or her own room.  This deterred me as we have only a three bedroom house and already two children of our own.  I found out last night that that wasn’t true.  That with the square footage of my house, we could welcome in two, if not three children.  My heart about came undone.  The tears sure did.

I had someone ask if I was scared.  Yes.  Of all the things.  Of going on Wednesday to the mandatory 3 hour orientation meeting and finding out that this isn’t for us.  Of going to the meeting and finding out it is for us.  That a child will come into our home and into our hearts, and then have to leave.  But for however long we get to have that child in our home, I want him or her to know they are wildly loved.

Yesterday my girls were so excited about me going to the meeting.  Alison asked if I’d be bringing a baby home with me.  “Please Mama.  I want a brother or sister.”  These girls of mine have been begging for about a year for us to foster/adopt a child.  They ask weekly when someone will come to live with us.  My husband doesn’t show his excitement quite like us three girls do, but I know he’s happy too.

Our life is a good one, not a perfect one by any means, but there’s lots of love here and we want to share it.  

I thought about not sharing this, about keeping this mostly to ourselves, but I think asking for your prayers is a better decision.  So if you think of us, will you please pray?  I wish I knew what specifically we needed prayer for, but at this point, I’ve no clue.  I just know that we’ve been blessed like crazy, and it doesn’t feel right keeping these blessings to ourselves.  I’m so hopeful that one day soon another kiddo (or more) can come live on our mini farm, in our crazy house and love life as much as we do.

7 thoughts on “The First Steps

  1. ‘Wildly loved’, yes! Wildly, Fiercely, and Completely loved. So excited for you Mama! You’re perfect for this! Flawed, broken, and inadequate? Quite possibly so. We are needed to be this way to do this hard glorious work. This I know for sure, you are perfectly BRAVE and full of LOVE! Can’t wait to hear more of the beautiful adventure ahead.


  2. Absolutely will pray. And can I make a book recommendation? Read The Language of Flowers. Beautiful book about a foster child learning to trust again.


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