Many people show interest in our fostering experiences.  I am thankful that this is true because it is a very important part of my life and experience over the last year.  It has consumed much of our emotions, energy, prayers, hopes and fears. But it has also brought so much laughter and joy and depth to all of our lives.

We recently said good-bye to our foster daughter as she reunified with her family. It was an exciting time because it is so beautiful to see a child with her birth mother, who loves her so deeply. But it was also hard because it meant she was no longer in our home full-time; we were losing the baby that had been part of our family for the last 3.5 months.

When I talk to people about foster care, the most common statement I get is something like “wow, I don’t know if I could do it because I could never let go of the kids.” If I am honest, I do get tired of hearing this. I think it is intended to be complimentary in some way, but if I am in a bad mood, it comes across like this: “you must be less attachment-oriented and able to love less-deeply than I if you are able to let go of these kids.”  I know that is not really the intention of the statement, but It has nevertheless caused me to process the required willingness to “let go” involved in foster care.

The truth is that good foster parents (and I’m sure any will tell you) do love completely, deeply and sacrificially. We treat our foster children as our own children for as long as they are with us. We seek to address their unique needs and be students of their personalities and temperaments, just as we do with our birth children. We long for them to feel secure and loved, and desperately want to see them doing well emotionally and socially. When we do come to the place of letting them go, it is not weakness, but in fact takes great strength. Granted, we have no say in the child’s destiny, but we do have the investment of having poured ourselves into this child, and there is a deep bond there. What we also have, however, is the choice to believe that birth families are incredibly important—they really matter, and a child should be with his/her birth parents if they can be safe and healthy there.

I have now said good-bye to 3 children that were part of my family for a time. The two boys we had in Arizona for 3 very intense months (before we found out we were moving and they had to be transitioned to a new foster family), and this precious baby girl who has now reunited with her family. So my perspective on letting go is wrapped up in both looking back at that loss that occurred last Spring as well as the one that is very new.  I will briefly share how each has affected me.

Baby girl: I have to admit that part of my coping with the very recent loss is my hope of continuing relationship with her family. In other words, it isn’t really good-bye forever.  I am so thankful that the Lord has blessed me with positive interactions with her family, and I care very deeply for them as well. I have already been able to hang out with them once since she moved back home, and it was a special time.  I hope we have many more chances to hang out and continue to build those relationships. Now I know that I can’t put too much weight on keeping long-term relationship, however, because things change and people move, etc.  My deeper peace in letting go of her is grounded in two things. First, many studies have shown that security, attachment and consistent adult interaction greatly matter in the life of a little one, even for a short period of time.  It can help build a foundation for a child that will help him/her later succeed in life and have healthy relationships. So my role in a baby’s life, even if she doesn’t remember us at all, is important.  Second, and perhaps more importantly, having seen and loved her little emerging personality, I can pray with specificity that God would shape and mold her and bring people into her life to encourage her. That gives me hope.

I also have hope that God still has another child for our family.  Baby girl has left a bit of a gap in my life. I love my birth children and my life is full with them. Yet having held and nurtured another baby for a time, despite the extra craziness that it brought, has left my arms aching for another. I am trying to entrust it to the Lord each day, and to pray for the perfect timing and the right child that we can bless and love next.

The two boys: Last April, we said good-bye to the two boys that had been with our family for 3 months. That doesn’t sound like very much, but it was an intense, “all-in” time for me. I had no idea what I was getting into when I said yes to taking them, but they changed my life. They were so beautiful and broken and longing for safety and security. It broke my heart that, though I was able to gain their trust and saw them begin to feel secure with us, I then had to leave them behind…  My heart still aches (perhaps even more now than at first) for them and for their pain. I look at their picture in my house every day, and I pray for them. What makes it worse is that, although I was able to write to them and express continuing affection for a time, they have since been moved and I now have no way of keeping in touch. That means my only connection to them now is my memories and my prayers. What this has done for me is make me examine: Do I really believe that prayer matters? Do I believe that there is hope that God will provide and work in their lives and bring safe people into their lives that they can trust AND that prayer can be part of that being accomplished? Yes, I do, because God has said that he responds to our prayers and that prayers are powerful and effective (e.g., Js 5:16; Ps 28:6; Ps 34:15; Ps 65:2).

Nevertheless, in the midst of the sadness of loss, there is joy and hope. For me, this hope and joy is grounded in the fact that I believe God is sovereign and loving. I can trust that He cares for these children and their families even more than I do. That doesn’t mean everything is going to turn out “just fine,” but it does mean I can entrust them to Him and the act of doing that is significant. It matters. My continuing prayers for them and my longing for them matter. The love and care that I poured into them during the time they were with me mattered too—imprinting on them an experience of healthy relationships.

There is also joy because my life was touched. I was allowed those months of learning and growth. I was given the gift of connection to and understanding of cultures different from my own. That is a huge gift, because it breaks down the misconceptions and beliefs I might have about certain cultures and socioeconomic realities without even having realized it. There is also joy because my birth children’s lives have been touched.  Our children are able to see all people as special, no matter how different from us. While we were already trying to teach them this before doing foster care, they are learning this in a deeper way now than I could ever teach them with books, words, and even cross-cultural experiences. They see brokenness in people, but they also see the hope that we have in Christ to redeem all of us and give us a forever home.

I have to admit that I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with conferences. As a staff person with Cru, we do attend a number of them each year- a couple for us as staff to be trained and encouraged, and a couple for students that we help to run and attend with our students. What I love about conferences is that they really do provide little greenhouse moments for students to grow, and we get to be there with them and help to make it happen. I also love that we get to hear wonderful speakers that challenge us personally too. In addition, we get to continue to build friendships with other staff families, and the kids get to see their staff friends and play together.  It is like our second family.

What is challenging about conferences is driving long distances with the family to then camp out in a hotel room, using our plug in skillet to make meals with, and keeping a busy schedule each day. Then inevitably, once we get home, someone gets sick (haha).

This Winter Conference was a particularly blessed time for me, however.  First, we were able to spend some quality time with a few of the NAU students who came out. I love those girls very dearly, and it was so fun to have some heart to heart talks in person again. Second, Jeremiah was able to connect with and pray with several of the Davis students who went as they processed what they were learning from the great speakers, who shared on living for what is eternal, walking in the power of the Holy Spirit, and seeing and enjoying God in our daily lives. Third, I loved spending time with some of the other staff moms from the region, and laughed and cried with some of them as we talked about our children and the ups and downs of life and ministry. There are even a couple other staff couples involved in foster care in some way, which was encouraging to me.

Fourth, I had the great privilege of giving a seminar on “Living on Mission in Graduate School and Beyond.” Ever since starting law school, I have had a passion for encouraging and challenging students who are pursuing careers—particularly in medicine, law and academia—to grasp and embrace what it may look like to prioritize the Lord and live as His ambassadors while pursuing excellence in their fields. There is so much joy in dedicating our accomplishments to Him, surrendering our lives and desires over the course of a lifetime (not in an instant), watching Him transform our hearts and use us for His glory.  I love to share my journey and what I learned about accomplishment, pride, brokenness, ministry and seeking the Lord in all things.  I had a great group come to the seminar, and it was fun afterwards to have questions that went both to the practical ministry aspects as well as the heart issues we discussed. I pray that the students there were as encouraged as I was by the time with them.

We continue to pray for the many students who were impacted by the conference, that they will return to their campuses and both continue to internalize what they have learned as well as pass it on to others.

The legal work I have been doing with Cru is both interesting and challenging to me. It has stretched me a bit this semester in terms of my time and emotional energy, particularly when combined with moving to a new city, joining a new staff team, and starting foster care again. Yet it has been rewarding and exciting at the same time. As Cru, we have been facing challenges from policies (often at very large public and private universities) that make it difficult to preserve our identity and mission because student organizations on such campuses may not require that their leaders believe the group’s mission and messages and may not require that those leaders teach the group’s beliefs as true.

I am so thankful that I get to work in the area of First Amendment law and religious liberty.  I love thinking about complex and intricate theories that often don’t have clear definitions or boundaries. I enjoy this, perhaps, because I am—on the one hand—an academic-type. Legal theory and philosophy and culture observation and analysis are endlessly fascinating to me, and I often wish I had more time to read additional books and articles analyzing historical trends and current cultural climates and how they affect the evolution of the law (and particularly constitutional law).

Yet those very aspects that make constitutional legal theory so intriguing also make it at times maddening. This is because I am also particularly pragmatic, and that makes it challenging when I simply can’t predict what direction the law will go in a my area of law—meaning I am left with thinking over and over again in my head about the various possibilities and how I will help Cru navigate through the various challenges that will flow from the different scenarios. This discomfiting lack of clarity in some of the law means that advising our staff on different campuses around the country when they face legal access issues can be either simple to resolve through direct communication with administrators, or effectively more like a PR campaign that I am suddenly an advisor for, giving talking points and preparing our staff for delicate conversations. In the case of the latter, resolution may or may not come, and I agonize right alongside our staff as we wait to see how everything will play out.

What I love about being engaged in a very practical discipline, however (where my help and advice directly impact our staff on the field and their ability to continue reaching out to students with the good news of the Gospel), is that nothing remains purely theoretical. That is exactly why I went to law school instead of a PhD program, so it is exciting that the Lord has allowed me a niche to serve practically within the law, even while I am still a mother of young children. When I talk about theory, my mind is spinning out all the various real-life implications for ministry; and often very nuanced implications, since I have the privilege to also be participating in on-the-field ministry at the same time. I don’t claim to be an expert, but I do understand what ministry to college students entails.

Through working in this area of the law, I have also been able to get to know wonderful and talented people who are working on these issues in many organizations. This past week I even had the chance to meet up with some of them in person on the East Coast—a very helpful time (thanks to Jeremiah and family and friends helping out watching the kids).

One of these days, I will write more about some particular theories in these areas that intrigue me, perhaps highlighting some scholarship from friends and colleagues in this area, while still grounding it in the real-life implications we face as Cru Chapters across the country. In the mean time, please continue to pray that our Chapters will graciously represent and communicate the Good News of the Gospel to students, even as many of our groups face restrictions.

Our Fall Retreat with Cru at Davis was this past weekend. We had a great time. We just took two kids (Isaiah and our foster daughter), while Judah and Bethany had a sleepover with their cousin.  It was just two days/one night, in order to encourage students with midterms coming up to still come—and they did; we had about 100 students there. It was great to have some time to get to know more Davis students, as it has been a bit of a whirlwind trying to get to know the movement here, and challenging to remember names. We enjoyed hearing from Matt Mikalatos and his wife, Krista, as our speakers. In his unique powerful and funny story-telling style, Matt brought to life for the students what God’s love means in terms of both responding to it on a personal level as well as responding to it by wanting to tell others about it.

It is funny how different the retreat was than our NAU retreats. In Flagstaff we had a smaller group of students, we knew every one of them, Jeremiah and I had our hand in every aspect of the retreat, and we often were in an informal setting—camping or at a church in a nearby town. This one was at a retreat center, and I didn’t have to focus on preparing food at all…

One of the ways we were able to serve at the retreat was through leading worship. It was fun to be able to play my violin with Jeremiah leading. In the last few days I have been reflecting on why I love to worship with my violin.  There is something about playing my violin with worship music that allows me to stop focusing on myself and my surroundings and allows me to enter into worship more fully. In a sense, it allows me to feel like I am in the music—part of the praise drifting up to the Lord’s ears. It is hard to explain why it is more intensely personal for me than when I am singing with the group. I think it is because it allows me to bring my own expression to the songs, joining with the beautiful corporate praise and adding a new layer to make it more complex, more full. I also hope that, as I pour myself into those little notes flowing from my fingers and focus my heart on seeing and being in awe of God’s beauty, that it also allows others to see His beauty more fully—for it is He who made music and designed expression itself for our enjoyment and His. Another thing I love about it is that each time I play and improvise, following Jeremiah’s lead, I am weaving something a little bit new and different, listening and reacting and feeling the movement of the song—building with it, driving forward with it, melting away as it resolves… Moment by moment worship.

Another thing I was reminded of at this retreat is how having a baby with you breaks down barriers. Not being an extrovert, that initial approach to new people is still not easy for me. But when I am holding a baby (in this case our little foster daughter), girls just approach me and smile at me. This reality reminded me of the Spring Break trip to the Dominican Republic when Judah was a baby—I had no trouble finding Dominican students to talk to.  The girls here also loved meeting and holding the baby (when she wasn’t trying to get down to crawl around the floor), allowing me to talk to them.

Overall, I think the students had a great time, and were encouraged to see God more clearly. Isaiah’s favorite part was seeing Banana slugs, with listening to the talks coming in as a close second.

As many of you know, shortly after we moved to California, we began the process of re-licensing for foster care here in Yolo County. We have been licensed for over a month now, and received our first placement 3 days after getting our license, right about the time the students moved in and started classes at UC Davis. It has been a bit crazy, but we are thankful to be able to serve in this way again. Our hope remains to eventually adopt, but we now understand more fully the importance of providing security and love to these children for a season while hoping that, if possible, they can return to their biological families. I have also grown in my compassion and love for the birth mothers—they so often do deeply love their children, but are either trapped in addiction or abuse, and/or have never seen health or appropriate parenting in their own lives. We are not against them.

The emotional ups and downs of being a foster parent are strong. I am quickly growing in a deep love for this child and I get to treat her as my child–snuggling with her, feeding her, playing with her, laughing with her… Yet I get to take her to visitations with her birth parents several times a week (a juggling act schedule-wise in and of itself), constantly reminding me that she is not mine, that I don’t know how much longer she will be with us, that I will likely never know how she will turn out as a child, teenager and adult. I get this little snapshot of her life, in which I can pour in as much stability as possible—a little foundation of health (not perfection, mind you, but health).

Another aspect of the emotions of it for me relates to my position in it all. I have done nothing wrong, and yet there is a sense of nervousness for me in dealing with the government. It isn’t entirely rational—I have worked for the government before; I have good position before the government; I have been approved as having a safe, exemplary home for children. Yet the authority and power of the government is so great, and the power of a foster parent to have any voice is so nonexistent, that it is nevertheless intimidating to be involved. Until I get to know the social workers and others involved in the case, there is a trepidation and uneasiness in my heart—a fear that I will do something wrong and someone will be mad at me (OK, my sin issue of people pleasing is tied into this too). Interestingly, this fear is greatly diminished once I get to know the social workers involved, because I then can believe that they know my desires in the matter are good. Nevertheless, the experience of feeling that initial trepidation gives me more compassion for what the birth parents must be going through. The government is a great power that has just intersected their lives in a very negative way, and they have to work hard to re-gain a good standing before that power, something that likely is more than some of them can bear emotionally. Keeping that in mind allows me to let the birth mother’s critiques about a tiny little dry spot on the baby’s skin to roll off my back. She is not trying to critique me as much as trying to preserve some sense of involvement and control in this roller-coaster of a process.

Another new reality of this experience has been a little taste of what it means to be a multi-cultural family. Having a little baby who does not match my skin color has been interesting. Thankfully, where we live it has been a positive thing. I have enjoyed the fact that I have more meaningful interactions with strangers of color—it is as if having a child of color with me breaks down invisible barriers that were present before, and people approach me and talk to me. I know I have much more to learn, but it is exciting.

As much as I want to have a multicultural family long term (as prayerfully we will be able to adopt a foster child at some point in the future), having a child of color even temporarily has made more real for me the fears that I won’t be able to provide connections to a child’s birth culture that he/she needs. I have several good friends from different cultures, but I want more. Yet I don’t always know how to pursue that. I know how to be colorblind functionally—I smile at everyone and see a unique individual in each face I pass. But that is different than having real connections with particular cultures. That is something that takes tremendous intentionality. And I don’t want a child to resent not having more connections, or coming to the place where she is expected to know things that she doesn’t because she was raised by Caucasian parents. I don’t need to worry about this, I know, but it is an awareness I have.

I will continue to be a learner and see how God will use this in my life for as long as we are called to care for the children God brings into our home.

I really started knowing God for real my freshmen year at Cal Poly, back in 1996. I had attended church before that, but had no relationship with Him. Since then, I have loved drawing near to Him, worshipping, serving, reading His Word and learning.

I have been given the opportunity to take that knowledge of God to a different level than has been possible before, through beginning a M.Div program through Western Seminary (being able to attend seminary is one of the reasons we have moved to California).  This summer, I got to take introduction to Biblical Interpretation as well as a class called Learning to Love God and Others, which is an introductory class in Spiritual Formation (how we become more like Jesus). Both classes have been great, and deepened my desire to study more what it means to know God and make him known.

Reading and applying and speaking the Bible accurately is a passion of mine. We do not know God except what He has revealed to us, and that revelation is most clear and accurate as found in His Word, the Bible. I believe that it is in knowing God that all of our human desires are met at their deepest levels. I read verses like Jeremiah 2:12-13 

“[12] Be appalled, O heavens, at this;
be shocked, be utterly desolate,
declares the LORD,
[13] for my people have committed two evils:
they have forsaken me,
the fountain of living waters,
and hewed out cisterns for themselves,
broken cisterns that can hold no water.”

and wonder, how has God made himself to be this fountain of living waters? What does it mean to hew out cisterns for ourselves. I love the imagery of the poetry found here, and it speaks to my soul, inviting me to draw near.

I hear Jesus’ offer, “[37] On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. [38] Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” (John 7:37-38). I interpret this to mean that God DOES have fullness for us found in Christ. I want that fullness, and I ask, where is it found? In Jesus Himself.

That is much of why I loved my Biblical Interpretation class. It was academic for sure, but for the purpose of hearing the promises of God in the Bible clearly and accurately.

The second class I took, Learning to Love God and Others, was FANTASTIC and what I believe I want to focus on more and more and more in life, how to move from a broken sinner, far from God in the experience of every day life, and moving towards someone who is mature in their faith, knowing what to do with your brokenness in light of the grace of God as seen in the cross.

We looked at how Christians have thought about spiritual formation and knowledge of God throughout church history. It was great and I want to study it more and more. We read 2 books that I want to HIGHLY recommend: Water from a Deep Well by Sitser and Christ Formed in You by Brian Hedges. I also recommend Practicing Affirmation by Sam Crabtree. The Christ Formed in You will probably form much of my discipleship with believers after they have gone through initial follow-up courses. It’s absolutely great!

I’m simply writing this to say, thank you to all who support us, who know us, who pray for us. I don’t know where a seminary degree will lead us, but I’m thankful for the opportunity to use the mind and heart God has given me, to be trained up in theology and practice of ministry, and to learn more about the God who made us.

PS. I’m taking Theology I this semester, I’ll let you know how it goes.

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us. Selah (Psalm 62:5-8 ESV)

I am so thankful that God is my strength and my hope. No matter what I face, I have a refuge—security, hope, love. I love that I can lean in to him, and I will not fall because He is so strong and powerful. Yet He still personally knows and loves me such that I can “pour out my heart” before him. Amazing!

Now, I am not talking about the kind of “Lean in” described by Sheryl Sandberg and others—this is not about any social agenda or about placing my identity in something I control or can accomplish. In fact, I like to avoid the posturing that goes along with the dispute between “stay at home” and “working” moms, and I seek to support my friends, who all face varied challenges and stresses.

I do think, however, that leaning into the Lord is related to “leaning in” in other relational contexts. We absolutely need community, and should accept and embrace the support and help others can give. I have noticed this to be true particularly in the foster parent community we are getting to know here in Yolo County, CA, as we re-license for foster care here. It is a beautiful thing to admit our need for support and help and to find it in like-minded people. It has been great to jump right in and get to know people in this community right after moving to Davis. We are also in the process of deciding what church community here we want to plug into. It is a big decision, because a church family is important, helping one another pursue Christ and serving one another in love.

Yet God is the only one who can handle the full weight of our lives—nothing surprises him/nothing is too big for him/nothing is outside of the realm of his grace and mercy. In many things related to transitioning, I find that I occasionally hit that point where I lack the energy to keep pushing forward, and can feel tired and overwhelmed. Not depressed or wanting to give up, but just missing the known and simple things that come when you have been in a community for a while. When I feel like that, I am glad God is sovereign and that He is my refuge. Knowing that enables me to relax and enjoy the fun that is going on right now around me—the kids jumping in the sprinklers when they come on to water the grass at night; the laughter at Pippin jumping on a grasshopper and batting it around; the conversations with a UC Davis student that our kids already love; a good connection with a neighbor whose kids are close to my kids’ age; watching our kids play with their cousins; getting to know a believer in the Foster care classes who grew up half a world away, and is sharing about her culture and her faith.

God is good, and I will have the strength to face each challenge that comes, because I have a refuge. So whatever happens with the next foster child we care for, whatever energy and time it takes to do the increasing amounts of legal work for Cru that is coming up for me this fall, whatever ministry challenges and joys arise as we serve with our new staff team, whatever studying for seminary classes entails for Jeremiah… We have a refuge. I shall not be shaken. I will worship the Lord!

Well, transitions are never easy. I am finally starting to show signs of stress related to all the things I may or may not have processed that have been going on—strange dreams, nibbling my nails, mouth sores. I think the whole ‘preparing the house to sell’ thing was the final straw for me. But it always points me to the fact that perhaps I am not remembering to preach the Gospel to myself daily…since my tendency is to carry the weight of everything on my shoulders instead of rejoicing in the fact that I have a sovereign Lord who knows my thoughts and my needs before I speak them, and who will provide, even if through difficult circumstances.

Good-byes are hard. And there are far too many involved when you are leaving a place you have lived and loved and ministered in for seven years–The place we have raised our children so far, and where two of them were born. Many of those good-byes feel even more drawn out because it is the expectation of the good-bye yet to come.

There are also fears that go along with good-byes. Some of the thoughts that go through my mind include: Do they know how much they mean to me? Do they know how much I appreciate the impact they had on my life? Do they know how much I care? Did I do enough to love and serve and help that student grow? Or those foster kids? Did I both live out and speak the Gospel to that friend who does not yet know the joy of a personal relationship with Christ?

Some of the good-byes involved in this whole process are the following:

1. One of the hardest good-byes was to the two Foster boys we had in our home for 3 months. I became very deeply attached to them, even over that short time, and it was hard to let them go, especially knowing that it was because of our move that they had to transition to a different home. I still think about them all the time, and they had a great impact on my life.  I don’t know what their future holds, though I know it will not be easy. I also don’t know if I will ever see them again, though I have been writing letters to them, and left them with many pictures, hugs, memories, gifts and prayers. I am glad they are with another foster family that will take good care of them for now. And I am glad we had special times during our camping trip with them the weekend before they transitioned–I especially treasure the little hike and all the little explorations and mini-adventures accompanying it that I took with the two boys and Judah while Jeremiah took Isaiah, Bethany and all the students on a longer hike.
2. I have also had to say good-bye to the hope of adopting an Arizona child in need of a forever family. That has been painful to let that go after having gone through the whole time of preparation. But we will begin again in California, and it certainly was not in vain—we were able to serve, and God used it to teach us even more about his heart for the broken and helpless, and about our own need for Him.
3. Just two weeks after saying good-bye to the foster boys, we had our End of the Year BBQ for our Cru movement here at NAU where we said good-bye to many of the students we have been pouring into over these last 4 years since we started the more traditional Cru movement here (after having been with Lifelines for 3 years). It was very emotional knowing that we may not see some of them until heaven, but it was incredibly special sharing with one another what God has done this past year, and being specifically encouraged by many of them with stories of how God has used us to help them grow and desire to know Him and live their lives for Him.  Many tears were shed—good tears.
4. Saying good-bye to our church family is also difficult. We have spent more than 4 years in the church family of Flagstaff Christian Fellowship (FCF), and it is definitely home. It is home because we have so many dear friends there who know us, love us and challenge us; it is home because we know and love the staff and fellow volunteers, and deeply respect their love for the Lord and their examples of servant leadership and sacrifice; it is home because we enjoy serving there; it is home because our children have been growing up in the Lord there (Isaiah has gone from being bored to listening carefully to Pastor Cole’s sermons and is finally starting to sing songs during worship; Bethany loves Sunday School and talking about what she is learning). We do trust that God will provide a new body of believers to fellowship with in Davis, but we will always be so thankful for the impact FCF has had on us [Just as we are still impacted by our First EV Free church family from Sioux Falls, SD, and our time there].
5. It is perhaps strange that a building would be hard to say good-bye to, but it is hard to leave our house too. It is the first and only home Jeremiah and I have ever owned. We moved in with a 1 year old and with prayers that it would be a place of love, welcome and ministry. We even prayed with our realtor that God would use it for His glory and protect us from harm. I am so thankful that it has been a place of safety and love for students (many have called it their home away from home—one of them said it will be so weird to see it and know we are no longer there).  Our home has been the setting for so many late night conversations, sleep-overs, dinners, worship nights, leadership meetings, and even a few baptisms. It has also been a place of love and laughter for our children as well as for our foster kids this year. What a blessing—God is so good. He answered our prayer in a way that also refined, stretched, and deeply blessed us. We pray and trust that God will provide a great place to rent in Davis that will be able to be used in similar ways.  
6. We have so many dear friends in this beautiful town of Flagstaff, it makes me sad that I am not very good at keeping up long-distance friendships…I know I will not have regular personal communication with many, but I am so glad to have had them touch my life—so many in profound ways. And I look forward to keeping in touch however we can.  I have learned much from my friends here—about parenting, generosity, sacrifice, servanthood, patience, endurance, love, and ‘green living.’ There is no way I could say thank you enough.

Although these good-byes, and more, are sad and cause my heart to ache, yet I rejoice. I am so thankful that God knows our paths and directs them. I would not change these years in Flagstaff—not even the anguish and tears that were involved in various steps along the journey here—because they have become part of who I am, and part of what God is going to use to help me minister to and love people I have yet to meet on the next stage of my journey, back in Northern California.

So we are excited for what is ahead, and we will fix our eyes on Jesus, and not on anxieties that might be tied to things past, present or future.

Now that it has been a couple months, I have some more thoughts about being a Foster Mom. We can definitely see God’s hand in it all–to grow us and to help these little ones have some stability and experience consistent love and attention. My prayer is that they will continue to grow in the ways we have seen them grow when they leave us.

One thing I did not fully realize was how quickly I would become attached to these children. Even though life is much more chaotic for me with two more little ones, and our house does not always sound peaceful with more little kid arguments than before, I do not want to quickly let these boys go. I love seeing all 5 play well together and starting to share and encourage one another and watch out for one another. It is super sweet.

I also did not expect just how affectionate they are and how much they just want to sit with me and have my individualized attention. They very quickly embraced calling me “Mama Lori,” which is sweet, and they love reading books and giving hugs and sitting on my lap (although the battles with Judah over who gets to sit on my lap are sometimes tiring, especially when it is at church during the service—haha).

Being my first time at this, I am afraid that they will feel confused and abandoned by me when they move on from our home. They are so used to hearing me say I love them, and I just pray that they don’t think that was hollow talk—I do love them so, but I know they will not be with our family long-term, so that is hard.

I think the bottom line is that I have to do what I can and not worry about what I can’t control. I can control whether my parenting is consistent now. I can control how I react to disobedience, and how I help them grow in developmental tasks and learning to care for themselves. I can control the love and affection I pour out on them. I can talk about how I want them to know they are safe here and that we want to bless them and that God loves them and wants them to come to Him just as they are. But ultimately I have to entrust their little lives to God, and pray that He will guide their steps in safety and hope.

Another thing that I have spent significant time thinking about is how kids with Trauma in their lives need special attention and care. While I am trying to treat the foster boys just like I treat my own birth children in many ways, I am giving them an extra dose of gentleness in how I execute discipline. I have realized that often lying is a reaction to a feeling of having no control, and trying to control results.  I have had a no-tolerance stance towards lying with my birth children, but have had to learn with these boys to try to get down to the deeper issues behind the lies before I can just nip them in the bud.  Fear is a strong emotion, and patterns of defensiveness and protection do not disappear overnight.  So compassion and expressing understanding, yet being firm and giving better choices seems to be a better path.  We still do time outs and natural consequences for misbehavior, but I spend more time working through how to calm down and self-soothe, and spend more time talking after a consequence about why it was important and how much they are loved, and why I care more about their growth than about just letting them have what they want. I certainly don’t claim to be doing things just right and am learning day by day, but I am thankful for an extra helping of Grace from the Lord as I seek to direct their little hearts toward health, truth, and wholeness.

I am pulled in so many directions, yet I would not trade this experience. I am confident in God’s sovereignty in each choice we make and am thankful that He is with me as I walk this road of life, work, marriage and parenting.