You are My Sunshine

It's spring in Minnesota and this year all it does is rain. Every day. Cloudy, rainy, cold. The sun only peaks out about every 5 days or so for a few moments. The cows are getting stuck in the mud. Hardly anyone can plant their crops, and those that do are planting in the mud and praying they will still grow. And our bodies that craved the sunshine and warmth all through that longer-than-anyone-can-remember winter are still left wanting.
Our two littles are visiting their mom for two days. I was looking forward to being able to tackle some projects, fight with my washing machine and re-find the living room floor. And I have gotten so much done. I went to bad last night and still had energy left, what a weird feeling!! But the house is quiet. And even though it's easier, there's less joy.
Babies are so demanding, needing to be fed more often, held more often, played with instead of running off to play on their own. Its hard to take them anywhere, they get into everything, I'm constantly chasing them. They need sippy cups and outfit changes and of course those stinky diapers no one likes. But oh they are the joy of the family. I truly believe. This is why big families seem more jolly. Its one of those things you don't realize until it's gone suddenly. The way they find joy in the simplest things, in everything really. The way they love with their whole entire selves.
This is Gods gift to us, sunshine even on the cloudiest day. Amidst the brokenness and hurt of this world he sends a reflection of Himself, pure and ready to burst with joy and love and wanting to give it all to us. Can't see Him through the clouds? Don't worry, He's still there, and just to be sure we know here's a giggling baby playing peekaboo or even a teething baby who only wants to be held and go everywhere we go. This is His love sent down to us.
And oh how we need it. As badly as we all need the sun to shine, we need these little people in our lives to show us who God is and how He loves us when we have forgotten. To brighten our spirits and give us hope. To bring joy, sunshine to the endless string of cloudy days.
We forget this though. We see stinky diapers, and sticky floors and missed work opportunities and fill in the blank. And we wonder why every day is cloudy. And He longs to share His sunshine with us if only we would accept it.
All across our country we are in crisis, the news says. Millenials aren't saving enough money, Baby Boomers didn't plan well for retirement, and the worst problem of all, no one is having babies anymore and there aren't enough people for the workforce and to keep the economy strong. And God keeps wanting to send His love into our lives. He keeps pursuing us, keeps trying to break through the clouds. But we tend to run, to say "No" to His good gifts. We good Christians even, who have better things to do, long lists, things to accomplish, clean houses to feel good about, "enough" other children to care for. And yet, when the house is all clean, the sky is still cloudy. He keeps pursuing, He keeps giving himself to us in so many ways, but oh the sunshine that's waiting to burst into our lives if we would accept this gift He's waiting to give. And we won't get anything done, and the house will be a mess and our career will be on hold and if we're lucky we'll realize none of that matters as long as the sun is shining. Because can we ever have "enough" sunshine. Will there ever be too many children, too much Jesus in the world, in our lives?
You are my sunshine little ones. From the moment you entered our life more than 8 years ago there has not been a day that has been too gray. Thank you God for sending us sunshine, even on a cloudy day.

I Care: The Award that You Deserve

8 years ago Dan and I fell into the role of foster parents. Truly, I think we had always talked about adopting even before our miscarriages, but we never really considered fostering. And then Nathaniel landed in our laps, and we started doing foster parent classes and before we knew it, we had accidentally found our calling. What sometimes looks heroic from the outside, is really just incredibly simple. Things that God asked of us that we said yes to. They aren't always "normal" I suppose, but aren't always "impossible" either.
A few months ago, I got a call from a social worker at the MSSA, informing us that we were selected as Foster Family of the Year for the State of Minnesota. It is an incredible honor. And in the least disrespectful way, it also felt like a sucker-punch in the gut. Here are the thoughts swirling in my brain as I'm trying to digest the information from this call and not sound like a complete idiot.
First, clearly this committee has not met me in person...People who know us in person will laugh at us receiving this award. I mean, my friend and I used to argue over which of us was the winner of the "worst mom of the year" title. I am surely much closer to winning that one, maybe the numbers got mixed up?
Second, this is the sucker-punch part, we just said a painful good-bye to the 13 month old son we raised from birth. We are still grieving. We are in that post-transition "we hate foster care" phase and you have chosen this moment to say "sorry for your loss but here's an award to make you feel better."  Obviously, the selection committee didn't know about our loss and giving us an award was not meant to inflict pain. But our current situation made it hard not to feel a little hurt like an award was meant to fill the hole left by his absence in our family.
Third, part of the nomination included our "adopting a child with special needs." This always throws me off because Bella is so incredibly normal to me. I just don't feel like she has special needs. And I know when people make me really think about it I realize that she's not talking much yet at age 4 and she still needs more medical care and more help with some things, but I would guess those that know her well would agree that she's pretty much just a normal kid.
And maybe that's really the bottom line of my hesitation with this award. It hasn't ever felt to us that anything we have done has been extraordinary. Ok, I know taking in 3 babies who turned into 3 one year olds, parenting 3 toddlers, and now having 6 kids is not everyone's idea of normal. But what I mean is what might seem impossible from far away, really gets very simple when faced with a decision to care about someone. And when that decision quickly turns into life as you know it, you find yourself doing something you used to look at from afar and think you could never do.
Of course, I know when I take a step back that being foster and adoptive parents is different in a lot of ways. I know we deal with birth families, and lots of questions and hurt feelings, effects of trauma and abuse and drug and alcohol exposure, and of course the eternal unknown and worry of "will I be able to protect this child who has come to trust me to do just that?"
But those things all slowly just became our normal. And a lot of other foster and adoptive parents deal with those things with much more skill and grace than we do.
I didn't tell many people about the award. I suppose because it seems a little silly to us to be honored for doing something we consider so normal, and maybe we feel a little undeserving, and maybe a little bit because of that sucker-punch piece as well. But I'm sharing it tonight, well because it got posted on facebook and I can't keep it a secret anymore...but also because I realize the very ordinary reason we won this award and the plea I'd like to make for you to join us.

The only thing we did to win this award was CARE. We just care about the kids who are strangers when we get a phone call, and need to become our family when they enter the door. Kids don't just need food and water and a roof over their heads. They need a family. They need parents who care about them and care about what happens to them and look out for them. And Dan and I have done this, have loved kids as our own, have seen them for who they really are, individual and unique and so important to the world. We have been protective of them and advocated for what's best for them. But isn't that completely normal? Wouldn't you do the same if faced with the situation?
I think a lot of you already do. I've written before about the importance of the support system of a foster family. So many of you are the reason we can care about children, because you love us first, we can love them. Because you welcome them into our extended families, and babysit extra kids, and hold them on your laps at church, pray for them and truly care about what happens to them, they are well cared for.
In March, two more kids joined our family. My heart isn't ready and someone else would surely be able to give them more time. But there is such a great need for foster families. For others who will care. I know that you do, or that you would, if the phone was ringing in your house instead of mine. But it is one thing to feel like we care, and another to ACT like we care. Can you take a baby step and do a foster care class to see what it's all about? Or read about it: try this article Ten Questions Couples Should Ask before Becoming Foster Parents
Can you commit to being a solid relationship for someone who doesn't have anyone else? (even kids who experience extremely difficult home environments can do well if they have just one consistent adult who cares about them). Can you care enough to offer a kind word, a prayer or a hand to someone who is struggling? When we received our award, the keynote speaker, a Suicide survivor, Kevin Hines spoke of his hope that even one stranger would ask him if he was ok before his suicide attempt. Did everyone that saw him that day not care? Or were they just afraid?
I reflected on this a lot in the middle of Holy Week. There were so many people who cared about Jesus, so many people who loved him and followed him. Where were they when he was being beaten? Did they stop caring about him? The ones he healed? What happened to them? Did they really not care? Or were they just afraid?
Fear seems to hinder caring often. We fear change, fear the unknown, fear the million things that might go wrong, fear how helping someone else might hurt us, fear making a mistake or failing, and we are so very afraid of what others might think.
Please stop to consider today, if the devil is working hard to make you fearful of something, it might be he is very afraid of what might happen if you succeed.
There is a great need in Pipestone County and a lot of other counties for families who will care about children. There is a great need in our world for people that will care about the people they encounter throughout their day. Would you take these sweet hands if they reached out to hold yours? Of course you would!!

Dan and I don't do anything extraordinary. We simply care. You do too. For those of you who are our incredible support system, you are the ones who really deserve the award. We could not love these children if we weren't first loved by you. And your prayer, helping hands and constant words of encouragement and understanding are the only reason we can continue. For those of you who are feeling any inclination toward caring for children in need, trust me, if Dan and I can do it, you probably can too. Probably better. Likely a lot better. Read that article I linked above even if you have doubts, it addresses a lot of them. And finally, remember what Jesus said? "Let the children come to me and do not prevent them, for the kingdom of heaven is found in such as these."