“The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame.  You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.  Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.” Isaiah 58: 11-12

A blog post has been ruminating in my heart for a bit now, but today I felt a strong pull to write.  I’m still not sure what this will be about.  The scripture above has been on my heart a lot lately, it’s so weighty and chock full of promise.

Everyone who follows me on facebook will know that after taking our foster license off hold in early October we had a few placements to which we said yes but none of them resulted in a child needing our home, we were placed with a precious newborn baby girl directly from the hospital about two weeks ago.  I have to be purposefully vague about her story to protect her family’s confidentiality, but she has been so fun.  When Ryan and I stepped forward in obedience returning to our role as active foster parents, we really weren’t sure what it would look like and how we all would adjust.  It has been so sweet.  Our kids adore having miss N in our home.  She’s held pretty much non-stop and we are all drinking in her newborn sweetness.

Tomorrow she moves on to another home.  A suitable relative was found for her and we couldn’t be happier.  Her mom will have family support to raise her sweet baby girl, and N will have a forever family (should she need it).  Restoration for her family is sweet but always comes at a cost.  Two weeks of loving and attachment in our family – only ten days since she left the hospital – but we have been purposeful and all-in with loving these babies and she is no exception.  We snuggle, take lots of photos, shower her with kisses and keep her safe – pretty much everything we would do for any baby.

And so the flip side is that we will mourn – grief is normal and natural.  We knew it was coming – and honestly, I welcome the feeling because with it comes the knowledge that I have done my job as well as I could once again.  I loved her completely as her stand-in mama.  I have been on the verge of tears all day because I do love her.  Even in her going to a wonderful situation, we allow ourselves to feel sad in her going, knowing that we gave her every little bit of love that her fuzzy, downy soft baby head deserves.

And the other part, the saddest part, is that there will always be another baby who needs us.  Maybe not tomorrow, or next week, but the sad fact of our city is that there’s a giant need for other families like us.  People who will allow their hearts to break just a little by allowing children in, and giving them the love they deserve and need to be whole.  If you’ve ever been interested in foster care, Ryan and I are an open book.  Happy to share our experiences and what it takes to be licensed in Wisconsin.

Those tiny toes are why we do this.  Why we allow our hearts to be vulnerable over and over.  Because she deserves a mama that takes a million pictures of her at every phase.  A mama who marvels at her sweet tinyness at 2am when she needs her tiny tummy filled.  A mama who allows herself to feel broken – even just for this moment in time – at the thought of passing her warm little self on to another set of arms.

I know I blogged about this similarly in the past, so maybe this is just for me.  Getting my thoughts out is cathartic, even if it is just for me to look back on and validate how I was feeling.

Standing on His promises to guide us, satisfy our needs, and give strength to us as we outwork this calling on our lives to be doing the work of repair and restoration of these families by loving the kiddos that come into our home.