The Hard Part

Yesterday we expected all of our kids to be back from Fall Break - we were one short. We were informed that he had been placed with a family member in FL and had already moved. Isn't it amazing how FAST that happens, yet adoption takes sooooo long? And by amazing I mean ridiculous, cruel, unfair, and terrible. We didn't even get to say goodbye. I felt robbed. We would have thrown a party! We would have hugged him! But instead, we got no closure. It feels like getting kicked in the stomach. Micah and I both cried. A rarity, I assure you. We're not criers. But we love our kids! And we want them to know! I hate having to wonder if he knew that we cared about him, that we were sad he left, that we loved him, and that we miss him already. It took my breath away to realize the uncertainty that these children face in foster care. How can they do this to people? To kids? It feels like court-ordered abduction. It certainly doesn't feel like the best thing for anyone.

It also awakened me to the importance of telling every child that they are loved, not only by us but by Jesus. I feel sure that this little boy understood that - I even mentioned it to my Sunday School class on Sunday before I knew what had happened. He had mentioned God several times at BigHouse. I realize that we never know how much time we have with anyone, but this brought it especially close to home. I want to be more intentional. It's of utmost importance. I miss our boy. I pray that he is taken care of, and loved, and safe, and happy, and not afraid. God never intended for this system of foster care to happen. It's messed up and broken and hurtful, like the rest of our fallen world.