Broken

I just feel so broken tonight.

Broken for our kiddos … the ones that have come and gone the ones that are sleeping in the other room right now, and the ones God will bring in the future.

Fostering is to love without abandon.

Fostering is to understand, when no one else will.

Fostering is to fight when everyone else has quit.

When we were told that we couldn’t have our own babies I remember begging God with everything inside my soul to allow me to become a momma. And he made it happen … just in ways that I never imagined. He gave me a heart that baffles me sometimes. A heart that loves so deep and so fierce I’m afraid I’ll burst; a heart that breaks when one of my babies leaves our home; a heart that somehow is sewn back together and grows a little more when the next love comes our way. A heart that always says yes and never wants to say no. A heart that believes in love and restoration. A heart that believes in hope. I remember begging God so hard to allow me to become a momma that it is unfathomable to me to witness and attempt to piece back together the lives of the broken babies that come to live with us.

It angers me that even after five weeks our one year old still doesn’t trust that he will be fed.

It angers me that so many of our kids have been addicted to drugs before they even breathed their first breath.

It angers me that they have been neglected.

It angers me that unimaginable things have happened to these sweet little lives.

It angers me that their innocence has been stolen.

It angers me that I can’t take the hurt and the pain away.

It angers me that I just can’t seem to love enough.

It angers me that most of the time these kiddos go back to broken families that were never fixed in the first place.

It angers me that I have to wipe a students face and arms down because they haven't been bathed in two weeks.

It angers me that I have to have clothes and food stashed away because they have worn the same dirty outfit for the last three days, and that the only meals they might have are the ones they eat at school.

It angers me that these things are happening right in front of our noses. It angers me that there aren't more that are choosing to fight and stand and speak for those that have no voice.

When I begged God to allow me to be a momma ... I had NO idea the magnitude of call He would place on my life. He listened, but He gave me way more than I could have ever dreamed. When He called me to be a momma it meant that I would become a momma to far more than would ever even live in my house. And I am so thankful that He not just heard my cry, but the cry of so many littles that just wanted to be loved.

I pray so hard sometimes that God would MOVE, that he would HEAL, that he would RESTORE.

I never pray for him to take this heart away … I never pray for it to stop breaking when they leave. I never stop fighting. These babies need, they deserve someone to fight for them. They deserve someone to love them so much it hurts. And when the pain becomes too much to bear and there are no words to cry out anymore … I allow the silent tears to fall and speak for me. I know He hears my heart, I know that He shares this same pain … and I know that He is asking us to do something about it.

So on those days when frustration rises … when there are more hard days than good … when there is nothing but crying and biting and fear and mistrust …  I have to stop and remember how to love deeply in that frustration. I need to stop and remember to love in that pain. Because they don’t understand what unconditional love is. Because they don’t know how to trust. Because they don’t know what it means to not be abandoned. Because they don’t know what a full belly feels like. Because HE has called us to love “the least of these” … and I do, and always always always will.