Taking Care of the Least of These

It came and it went. It was busy. We had a little house guest. She was adorable and we were privileged to provide respite care (respite care is any time a child in the foster care system is placed in a home for more than 72 hrs but less than 14 days) for her. She came to us because her rescue family (foster families that provide care for Little Footprints are called rescue families because we are participating in "rescuing those being led away to death; holding back those staggering toward slaughter" Proverbs 24:11) went out of the country. It was great. It was exhausting. 


I am so tired. Adding a third child to the mix and one who is only a few months younger than Shiloh proved to be much more difficult than I anticipated (isn't that just like it always is?). She and Shiloh of course wanted my undivided attention, which with two one year olds and a three year old was never going to happen. Plus my unruly boys rubbed off on her and by the time she left she was crawling around the house screaming at the top of her lungs following the two boys as they ran around the house screaming at the top of their lungs. It was noisy (ok my house is always noisy, what with Boker and his very annoying barking and Lilah who barks to protect us if it gets too quiet and Jude and Shiloh always yelling and wrestling, really what is one more added to the mix?). 


There were lots of failures. I mean I think I must have prayed a million times for forgiveness for being impatient. I must have thought a million times why did I ever do this? And is this what the rest of my life is going to be like even if I never foster again because our third child is going to arrive in march? And the answer is: I have no idea! But we will foster again and I hope one day to adopt also. I want tons of children in my house. Reaching the point where I want to give up and cry because I feel like a failure in reality is great, because it is in those moments that I KNOW Jesus is real and that he loves me and that he is there for me. I may not be perfect but he is. And I may not be strong enough to handle this but he is. 


I am not fostering because it is glamorous (any parent knows it is not glamorous to change diapers, be spit up on, listen to screaming, etc). I am not fostering so people with think I am super great (because I am not). I am not fostering for any reason other than I love Jesus and want to obey him and join him in taking care of the ones who can't take care of themselves. Jesus calls his followers to deny themselves, their wants, their hopes, their dreams, their comforts, their will to follow him. Jesus is working on me and I know he is going to keep working on me until the day I die but I hope that I will one day hear him call me his beloved and that as in Matthew 25:34-40:

      "King: Come here, you beloved, you people whom My Father has blessed. Claim your inheritance, the Kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of creation. 35 You shall be richly rewarded, for when I was hungry, you fed Me. And when I was thirsty, you gave Me something to drink. I was alone as a stranger, and you welcomed Me into your homes and into your lives. 36 I was naked, and you gave Me clothes to wear; I was sick, and you tended to My needs; I was in prison, and you comforted Me.

    

    37 Even then the righteous will not have achieved perfect understanding and will not recall these things.

      

      Righteous: Master, when did we find You hungry and give You food? When did we find You thirsty and slake Your thirst? 38 When did we find You a stranger and welcome You in, or find You naked and clothe You? 39 When did we find You sick and nurse You to health? When did we visit You when You were in prison?

    King: 40 I tell you this: whenever you saw a brother or sister hungry or cold, whatever you did to the least of these, so you did to Me."




But then again I may hear, "you corrupted that sweet little girl, she now runs around screaming, refuses to sign please for her food and bottle, she won't lay down without a fuss anymore, she got licked in the mouth by the dog - repeatedly, knocked over by unruly boys, got hit and learned to hit back"...and the list could go on and on...