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Archive for September 16th, 2012

Ready for a Second Dose

I know it sounds crazy and nonsensical to even think about fitting another child into our already hectic, packed life, but lately that is all I can think about.  I can’t stop thinking about a blond haired, blue eyed little boy sitting in a group home 40 minutes away from his sister.  When I was  eight and my sister was five, and anything happened to her, I was a mess.  I remember my mom having to take her to urgent care one night because she had a bug in her ear or something random like that, and I sat through all of dinner just boo-hooing because I was worried about her and needed to know that she was okay.  Any time something bad happened to her, it tore me up.  Oh, we’d fight over who got to play with what toy and which one of us got be the teacher when we played “School”, but I always had her back.  We were each others playmates and roommates and friends.  I cannot imagine if, at eight, I had to be taken away from my sister and leave her in a home with other kids and adults who were referred to as “second shift” or “third shift” workers and not “mom” and “dad”.  It would’ve eaten me alive to have to go two months between visits and not getting to be with her every day.

This weekend Half Pint’s little brother came to stay with us again.  When I went to pick him up from his “home”, he ran up to me, hugged me so tightly and said, “I missed you so much!  I just love, love, love you!”  He could not wait to come home with us.  And if that didn’t tear my nerves enough, the other three precious darlings in the room came up to me and clung to me and begged me to take them with me too.  This weekend was almost like a trial run.  There has been a lot of drama lately with the adoption process and certain people trying to poison the water so that these two precious kiddos don’t get adopted together.  Their to-be-adoptive mother and I have spent all week texting and emailing and praying our hearts out begging God to work something out so these two kids can be together again.  And when I get a burden in my heart and an idea in my head, I do not rest until it is finished.  My burden…my thought this week…Lydia’s brother.

I wanted to write down all the fun memories we had picking apples, hanging out with our neighbors, and just hanging out at home playing.  But mostly tonight I just want to write about how absolutely burdened I am for this sweet little boy.  Does he know tonight how much he is loved?  Does he know he is wanted?  Is someone tucking him in and reading him Bible stories and praying for sweet dreams as he rests?  Is anyone making sure he is held and hugged and spoiled?  Is anything causing him to belly laugh like he did all weekend with his sister?  Who carries him when he’s tired?  Who makes sure he’s getting a proper education and expanding his mind?  Does he know he is precious and valued?  Does he know how significant he is?

People tell me I’m crazy.  That they could never foster because of how hard it is to say goodbye.  I know that will be hard.  Painfully hard.  But it’s harder for me to sit back and know there are kids out there without loving homes when I have a home and a heart that is capable of taking care of them.  Lydia asked me today if she was still my favorite.  I got to explain to her how our hearts grow and how love is something you can never run out of.  Just because I love her brother does not mean I love her any less.  There’s not a cap on love.

People also tell me I’m too stressed already.  Can I really take care of another kid?  And as hard as it may be to see from the outside, and as stressed as I may appear to be, I can honestly say having two kids, while twice the work, gives me twice the joy.  It feels natural. It feels right.  I felt like our strange little family was complete this weekend, like it should be.  He belongs with us.  Yes, he will be one more mouth to feed, one more bed to make, one more kid to get ready in the morning.  He will be one more to pick up after school, one more to to tuck in at night, one more to teach about right and wrong and the love of Jesus.  But maybe, just maybe, we were meant for “one more”.

Right now I don’t know where he would even sleep, how he would adjust to starting a new school, and whether or not his sister is ready to be an “older child” instead of an “only child” again.  But I know I want him.  I know I want big things for him.  And I believe that God has a plan for him that is good.  Maybe, just maybe, we could be that something good.

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