On Missing Out and Miracles

Today, I was in the room where a baby was born.
I was honored to witness a mama push her baby out into the world. A miracle, no doubt.
I have never wanted biological children. And I don't know all the reasons. I can't name them. Birthing just doesn't appeal to me. Not the way that adoption and foster care do. Sometimes, I wonder if there's something wrong with me. People say things to me like: "But it's what you were created to do." Or they say: "Don't you want to experience the miracle of creating a life?" And then: "Aren't you worried you're missing out?"
So when my path crossed with that of the young pregnant girl six months ago, I would never have thought I would be standing in the room while she labored and pushed for her baby. Honestly, during the last three months of going to classes and sonograms and preparing for today, I wondered in the back of my mind if all this would start a certain itch or scratch or I'd hear something biological tick or whatever.
Welp, it didn't. But I did come out of that room certain about some things. Maybe I was created to do this. Exactly what I'm doing. I shudder at the thought of missing out on this right here. On what we get to be a part of creating.
And maybe that young mama, just maybe, she is my miracle.

Let's Be Clear

Many people say to me: "I could never do what you do." They mean they couldn't foster or adopt or, more recently, move in a seventeen-year-old who is expecting in 5 days (GULP!) I understand that. This life we have been called to is not for everyone. These last four years have been crazy, exhausting, and emotional.

But, you. You have lifted us and held us. Steadied us and carried us. You have done room makeovers for our foster kids when we were drowning. When we were so underwater with being new parents and learning the system, you swooped in with curtains, diapers, formula, and meals. When we were talking down a terrified kid on his first night here, you dropped off bananas and Cars pull-ups because those were the only words he could choke out. You showed up with a bottle of wine and sympathy. You brought bikes and helmets. You have thrown us about ten showers in the last four years. You have supplied us with probably about $5000 in gift cards. You have bought our kids beds. You threw our new "roomie" an amazing baby shower and have helped supply her every need. You've handed us envelopes full of cash over dinner because you "want to help" and it's "no big deal." You heard about our car window being smashed and you cut a check for the whole amount to replace it. You have provided us roughly 150 meals. You email, text, and call. You ask: "What do you need?" and then go to work supplying paint to make a room feel like their own, plus double strollers, cribs, and groceries. You buy my kids Halloween costumes when I am too busy going to meetings for a placement transition. You babysit FOR FREE! BLESS YOU! You buy bus tickets and hotel rooms so our girl can have family at the birth. You drop off bags of clothes on our porch. You replace our radiator for free! FOR FREE! You PRAY for us endlessly. You celebrate with us. You grieve with us. You welcome our kiddos so well. You send them off so well. You send us scripture and encouragement.

Let's be clear. We could never do this without you. I look around at this life that I get to have. This life that you help me have. And while some days I wanna yank my hair out, there is some point EVERY DAY where I am overcome with gratitude. It might be when we are all sitting around the dinner table. Or when Matt and our new big kid are killing flies together in the kitchen at midnight. Or when I look through pictures of the last four years of ALL my kids. Or when I write a blog, detailing all the ways God used all of you to provide for and care for us. I am thankful every day.
So, thank you.