The Call

Last night our city held its annual Christmas parade. The festive, community-building tradition overtakes our town. Broad Street parking is filled early in the day by pickup trucks positioned so family and friends have tailgate "stadium seating" for the big event. Folding chairs start lining the center median hours in advance.  Marching bands and Shrine clowns abound as more than a dozen blocks are occupied by float lineup. Hundreds of participants buzz during the final fluffing on locally made flatbed floats full of tiny mites football players, Girl Scouts, pageant queens and church nativities.

I had to have Kate downtown for a theater rehearsal right in the midst of the madness one hour before the parade's start. As I was navigating the re-routed traffic on my way home I had a flashback to this very night and exact street two years ago when we got the call asking if we would take the baby sister of the two little girls we were already fostering. It was a gut-wrenching question because I knew how challenging it would be. Saying yes meant SIX children under the age of twelve for the foreseeable future--including all day every day for Christmas Break.

I remember my prayer, alone in the car, before I called Ryland to discuss. I was grateful for the countless detours because I needed to drive in the dark--counting the cost. I knew the right answer was yes. But I was afraid.

This is the fostering journey. Counting the cost but walking in obedience--frightened, aware of the risk but trusting that God will be with us--strengthening, helping and upholding.

When people speak of foster parenting they often say, "I could never love a child knowing they would leave. I could never let them go." But I am learning the key to Godly parenting is remembering they are not your possession--they are His.

We have had seven foster children come and go now for periods ranging from 4 days to 18 months and each have left a piece of themselves indelibly marked on our hearts and family life. The precious little girl we had in the Fall is now with a wonderful long-term placement and I am able to communicate regularly with her new Mama. It is a gift to find my role in that scenario as a fierce prayer warrior who knows and adores the child, able to encourage her sometimes weary new family through this transition.

Last Wednesday I ran into the 7 year old boy we had at the beginning of the Summer. He left our home under very difficult circumstances that still sting my heart. Our 'accidental' encounter included big, warm hugs with the boy and his birth Mom. It was a reminder that even after a child leaves, the story goes on and our lives may continue to intersect.

Earlier this month we had the privilege of providing respite for a foster family from our church. I was nervous about hosting a 15 year old boy we had never met, but he was truly a gift. He and my husband have developed a friendship that has continued despite his departure.

All these threads--their lives and ours, seasons of various lengths are being woven together in a tapestry. From our position, up close and in the center of the action, we lack the perspective to see the bigger picture but we trust the Master Weaver whose movements are perfect and full of purpose.

We are in a holding pattern with fostering right now. The combination of some extended travel plans over the next few months and issues within our family that required some focused attention, have led us into a sabbatical season. But I am beginning to feel the stirring again, the call of the Lord to prepare to get back in the game is getting louder in my heart. Frankly, it is followed by questions, doubts, selfish objections as I count the personal cost and fear.

Which brings me back to the flashback of my phone call.  The calls never come at convenient times. I received our first one during the last innings of a playoff baseball game, one in the middle of the night in Israel, another while I was weeping in my driveway after hitting my beloved pet. True obedience doesn't get to be on our schedule.

When we get a phone call for a placement we have no idea what awaits us on the other line--the breadth and depth of circumstances which have brought this child into care. Their gender, age, and name are about all we have. We do not know how long they will need to stay, what issues they bring with them and how God will use each of our lives to sanctify and shape the others. But I am learning there are things we DO know when we get those calls. God will be with us. He is enough. Nothing is wasted. Hearts will be changed.

In light of this almost-Advent season I thought of the 'call' Mary received via the Angel Gabriel's visit to announce she was being entrusted with a child.

I re-read the story from Luke 1in the Message translation this morning and several portions struck me in a new way.

29 She was thoroughly shaken, wondering what was behind a greeting like that. But the angel assured her, “Mary, you have nothing to fear. God has a surprise for you...

Because of where I am in my parenting journey, I realize this is the call we get with each of the children God entrusts to our care--whether through our womb or some other way. Even if our children were 'planned,' He has surprises for us. 

It is sobering and humbling to watch our children's lives unfold. It is a messy and glorious process. I long to respond to His Call with less tight-fisted attempts to control and more submission and trust. The older I get the more I find, I don't want to miss the adventures God has planned for me--even the ones that are painful and difficult. The adventures that leave the scars seem to be the richest ones.

So, we are resting up. Enjoying a restorative break but listening for the next call and praying we have the faith of Mary to respond. 

v 37-38 Mary said, "Yes, I see it all now; I’m the Lord’s maid, ready to serve. Let it be with me just as you say."