You know why I love this picture? It's cute. And we are young and in love.
You know why else I love this picture? Because we are walking on a train track. Boldly. Hand in hand. You know what comes on train tracks? Trains. We are walking into the abyss as if to say "Bring it on, Train. We are going to keep walking this path even if you come. Even if we get flattened, we are going to keep walking forward."
That's how my life feels right now. It feels like Otha and I grabbed each other's hand and decided to walk the track of foster care, following God's call in our life.
And we have been hit by trains.
Multiple trains.
Our little one is back in the hospital. Again. Round three. Her body is fragile, mirroring the fragility of my emotions. As she physically struggles, I struggle to cope with the unknown that we have invited into our life.
I want to step off the track to process our new life. I want to scream "I need more time to figure out how to mother this little one who came to our family so unconventionally!". I want to sit and pout like a two year old. But there is no time for that. We are pushed forward by a calling to fiercely love this tiny girl.
I wish I could take another "train track" picture, but one reflecting the state of our life right now. Imagine tattered clothes, dirt, blood, and bruises covering my body, and a serious limp...mmm, like a double limp... and my hair is torn... and I am missing an arm (my left arm, so I can still hold Otha's hand with my right arm)... too much? You get the picture? You would look at the picture and say- "Those gross, nearly-dead people got hit by a train, and they are still walking on the obviously dangerous train track. Crazies."
You are right. We are crazy. But I would not go back in time and make a different decision. This has by far been the most challenging season of my life, yet the most rewarding. The kind of rewarding where the Lord comforts me in the darkness where I am sobbing and questioning His plans. Where I learn to receive from the Lord and others because I have absolutely nothing to give, nothing. Where I have to face the ugliest parts of my soul, and still somehow believe that the Lord loves me unconditionally. I am experiencing kingdom life, or in the words of my dear friend Lisa... Real life. The kind of life that sometimes (always) looks like dying.
And that's how it feels- like dying. Like getting hit by train after train.
Yet we still move forward because the Lord is good. And He gives life.
If I hear one more person say "I could never do what y'all are doing, that's way too hard", I may or may not punch them in the face. We are not super heroes. We are not endowed with special foster care parenting abilities. We did not run out of all other easy life options and foster care was the only option left. Did you not just hear how I am bruised and bloody and broken?? I cry all the time. I wrestle through horrible thoughts and emotions everyday.
Just because something is hard doesn't mean it shouldn't be done. The true, life-giving kingdom can be found in the most uncomfortable and challenging places. I am not saying: everyone should do foster care. I am saying: don't avoid what the Lord is calling you to do because you are scared. As I have learned all too well the past nine months, fear is a terrible companion when trying to follow the Spirit. So kick fear in the gut and really ask the Lord what He wants from you.
Then grab the hands of your people. Step on that train track. And walk into the unknown, for that's where real life is waiting for you.
