Friday, October 21, 2016


We have been licensed in foster care for 8 months, but just got our first 'call' today.  The call that I have been wondering about.  The one that says there is a child and he has a need for a home.  She described him as sweet, a good student, kind.  All the buzz words that should 'sell' him.

But the truth is, he already had a place here.  Without a doubt, this is the boy who God was preparing a place for in our home.  His place was ready.......we just didn't know it.

The caseworker picked him up from school and brought him 'home'.  All day I prayed and wondered and worried about a little boy who must be overwhelmed with fear.  How scary to go to a new home, new people, new bed.  It just really must suck- to put it blunt.

He arrived with his belongings stacked neatly in tied up plastic grocery bags and one giant paper handled sack.  His chapstick, a lanyard, some books, his clothes, shoes that have seen better days and lots of hoodie sweatshirts.  And a basketball.  A sure tell sign that the boy in him is alive and well- just waiting for a time to play.

This burden, the one piled on his tiny 9 year old shoulders, is more than I can even begin to comprehend.  He has bright eyes, beautiful hair, he is a fabulous speller with amazing penmanship.  Yet in his eyes there is something distant, something far away.  Probably something that has allowed him to be the adult for his little siblings in a home where  mom refused to step up to the plate.


It isn't fair.  For him I am grieving, literally my soul is crying out to God begging Him to let this little man out of the injustice that has been heaped shoulder high on this young man.  Truly, this little boy.   Crying out for the tools and the compassion and the heart for our home that can receive him right where he is and love him well.  And maybe, just maybe, that he could love us too.

We choose to stand in this gap.  The one between where his parents are, and where they should be.  And it is my hope, my deepest and desperate prayer, that his mom can rise above out of the ashes that have been created by bad choices and a desperate need of the Savior.  That she can lay down herself in order to mother this boy well.  And until then, we will stand with him.  And wait.

And we will, without any uncertainty, remove those barbie dolls left by the girls in our bathtub.  He won't be needing those : )

Monday, October 3, 2016

You never go 'back'

"Hows the quiet?"

"Are you enjoying some rest?"

"Bet your kids are glad to have their rooms back?"

As quickly as we became a household of 10, we have shrunk back to just us 5.

Yep.  Just like that, the judge saw this woman and her children and their healing path they have walked and the checklist of crossed off goals and she ordered the kiddos home.


Amazing how God has so changed what that could be in my mind.

I have have the amazing honor of walking this path next to this woman as I have provided a 'home' for her kiddos.  This woman who is strong, and weak.  Who is whole, but broken.  Who has been so surrounded by love, but alone.  Her 'home' scattered across the place while she tried desperately to seek out what it was and what it could be.

And that home for her kiddos?  Man I will never forget the way God wove all of those huge and tiny details together.  The hands that rang my door bell with hot meals, toilet paper, hand soap, toothbrushes.....  The texts of love and encouragement.  The calls of concern and help.  The unbelievable love poured out for each and every single one of us.......all 10 of us- breathtaking.

And here we are, crossing the finish line of sorts. The one that God has carried my family to.  But truly this is just the beginning of the big journey for this beautiful woman and her sweet five kids.  Now they begin the hard race.  The one where they try to make sense of the complete chaos that has enveloped them for almost a year.  An entire huge long year.  And God will do it, I just know He will.  And someday we will look back to this time in complete and sheer amazement at how He orchestrated it all.

And yet I do feel a release.  An excitement of sorts that we made it.  We Made It.  WE MADE IT.

Man there were days that I wanted to throw in the towel.  It was all too much.  Too many needs.  Too much anger from people who couldn't receive my love.  Too much confusion from kids who didn't want life to look different.  Too many people for a small space designed for less but adequately accommodating us all.

A broken doorbell.  A shattered TV.  Nail polish stained carpet and bathroom counters.  A mysteriously dented garage door.  A worn out washing machine.  Stained walls from taped posters and pictures.  Hearts forever missing a piece of what once was a part of our home.  We will never be the same.  Thanking Jesus today for the honor of holding these kids until their momma could.  Looking anxiously to the future of who might join us next.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Lucky 7

Seven months.  I went from a post about 5 weeks to 7 months. I suppose it goes without saying things have been a 'little' busy.

8 children will do that to you. 

The past seven months have been like a whirlwind of appointments, school papers, dinners, birthdays and dirty socks.  And it has taken a toll on all of us.  The foster kids, me, my husband, my marriage, and my children.  I wasn't quite prepared for the toll it has taken on our children.  I suppose that was foolish to think we could walk through this big huge thing and not have it weigh in on each of us.

I'm certain none of us would change a thing.  We would walk this path again and again if it is in God's will.  But each of these 8 children, I know, will breathe a sigh of relief when they get their space back and life returns to whatever 'normal' will be when this is over.

And that opportunity to see 'normal' should come in about a month.  Although I question if anything will ever feel normal again.  Will our home ever feel like our home again?  I kind of hope not.  Let me explain.

This space that God has blessed us with, this house out in the country with the huge garage and the amazing back yard?  It was never ours to begin with.  But for 12 years we lived in it like it was.  Just living normal life and (me) complaining about wanting more space or just one more room or an updated all seems so silly now.  Because none of what we were doing was honoring to God.  We weren't utilizing His home well at all most days.

In a matter of less than a week, we doubled the size of our home.  We went from a family of 5 to a family of 10 and God orchestrated the entire thing.  And ultimately, we still have plenty of space.  And we still have too much stuff.  That is going to be a focus for me, to remove all of this excessive stuff that is weighing down my home. 

This post is jumbled and weird, kind of like my mind right now.  The past seven months have taken a toll on me emotionally.  I was good I would say for the first five months.  But then I let more of 'me' take the focus and less of God and here is where I have landed.  Incredibly sick (I caught a cold from the kids that I can't shake), exhausted and feeling malnourished.  I am ready for a break- for time to regain strength, family time, rest, and reconnection.  And soon that time should come.  And then we will pray for what it is God wants next.  More foster kids?  Missions work? Community service?  Whatever it is, I pray we can receive it with open arms.  Jesus please let these people have open hearts to whatever it is you want next.

I was at Aldi yesterday trying to grab a few random things I needed for the weekend.  I felt so bad I didn't want to rummage for a quarter for a cart.  I just needed a few things.  Of course I didn't have a list, so I instead thought of single items and then lapped around the store looking for them.  On one of my laps I spotted a jar of basil pesto, and I grabbed it.  I mean YUM!  When I finally gave up on whatever it was that I could be forgetting I got to the register and lined up.  And after a few moments that tiny jar of basil pesto fell from my overfull hands and shattered on the ground at my feet.  I balanced my bag of onions, can of olives, coffee creamer, and croutons in one arm while I dug for a package of wetwipes in my bag.  And I began mopping up the broken glass and the yummy pesto.  And then I gathered that yucky mess into my hands and returned to waiting in line.  The woman in line ahead of me had a leather legal pad with a neatly organized list and each item had been carefully crossed off.  She was removing her items from her cart and organizing them on the conveyor belt.  And once she was finished, she removed her neatly folded stack of reusable bags from her cart so that once she was checked out she could begin bagging her purchases.

Meanwhile basil pesto is running down my arm.

And I was angry.  She had her quarter for a cart, a list for her needs, and a game plan to get it home.  I just happened to be driving by.  A lack of control was all I could focus on.  In the line next to me was an older woman wearing khaki pants and a pressed golf shirt.  Her hair was obviously freshly done.  She had a bag of onions and a bunch of bananas.  She was completing her pantry needs for her family while representing them well while doing it.  I was looking so ragged I contemplated hiding from a friend I ran into,

What has happened over the last months to me?  I suppose I have just lost the ability to get ahead of this train and organize the needs.  Instead it has passed me and I am chasing after it throwing what tiny offerings I have onboard.  If I have dishonored God with my lack of ability to keep up, I am terribly sorry.  If I have taken too much control into my own hands, I am sorry.  But I am not sure it is any of that.  I think it is just coming to a close- and God wants to remind me who is in control.  And it certainly isn't me :0)

If you are still reading this- I apologize.  This is the first moment I have had to write and I am just plinking my weird thoughts out here with no thought or proofreading.

Fostering broken people is hard, yo.

Sunday, March 13, 2016


Five weeks.  Five beautiful girls.  A family of five plus five.

It's been five weeks. It seems like a breath and a year all at the same time.  We've shared tears, laughter, pain, frustration and even mean words.  We've shared bathrooms, meals, germs (numbers 4 & 5 currently fevering and puking at the moment), prayers and dreams.

It feels hard most days.  Like sometimes the pain that has been absorbed by these girls is enough to break us all.  Like the end couldn't possibly be here soon enough but will inevitably be here way too soon.  How could we ever go back to 'normal' now that we know what it could be like?

Our home is alive.  And there is not a single square inch that isn't being fully utilized.  Some of them over utilized : )

We have had so many laughs.  So many games.  So much fun and mud and dust and sprinkles.

And then there are the tears and the hard things that threaten to break me at the core of who I am.  The inmost being that screams out in sheer surrender...........but can only proceed through the fiery smoke because of our Savior.  The one who called us to this battlefield in the first place.

We can't fix anything. We can't change anything.  We can't even make small repairs.  But we can love, we can nourish, we can celebrate, we can worship, and we can listen.  Above all things that I am learning it is how to listen.  Not with my ears, but my heart.

And for that I am so thankful.  I have done a horrible job of pressing in and listening with my brain all of these years but not truly allowing my heart to hear.  The Holy Spirit is working in me and I am trying my best to shut down 'me' and listen only to what it is saying.  To hear with my heart and not with my ears.

Press in.  And press on.  That is what I am going to do today.  And laundry, because I always have laundry these days.

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Hard things

I never have really had a hard time doing the hard things.  In fact, it is the mundane normal day to day things that seem to wear me out.  Just doing the normal life things?  That to me is when I drip slowly into a dark place where I don't feel like I can function.  But ask me to take on something hard?  It's go time.

Why is that?  Perhaps it's because God plans to use me for the hard, weird, overwhelming things.  And this is how He has built me to cope with that.  Like a weird kind of thrill seeking design.

So when God laid on our hearts (more like stomped it in) last summer that we were to get our Fostering license, it seemed like a thing.  But how on earth could He use me to Foster a child?  Our home is not 'normal', we don't operate on a good solid schedule, I can't keep up most days with what we already have.  But we started the process.........ssssssllllloooooowwwwwlllllyyy.  After all, what could He possibly use us for.  I could never offer care for an additional child.

And then he sent five.  FIVE.  Through no circumstances that are of their doing, these sweet five sister siblings had to leave their home and go to their grandparents.  And then they couldn't stay there anymore.

We were made for this.

We know this family, we have said all along they would be welcome here.  But I'm not sure either us thought it could really happen.  I mean, who can bring in five extra people into a normal home and still function?

And then it happened.  In less than one weeks time, start to finish, we were notified it was a possibility and then they were loaded into cars with all of their things and we were in a convoy headed to home. Our home.  Done.  Just like that.

Could I possibly handle adding five additional children into my home?  Nope.

Could God?  Absolutely.  We have seen Him show up in every.single.step.  There has been an overflowing of food ever since they arrived..........not even joking.  Almost every day God is sending someone with lots and lots of food.  Yesterday, a box of toilet paper came from Amazon.  The day the kids were coming, a friend came in and filled the fridge with fruit and veggies and yogurts and cheese, she put laundry soap in the laundry room, she put paper plates in the cabinet.

The laundry has yet to get overwhelming.  Of course I am doing a few loads every day.  But even with their initial arrival of garbage bags stuffed full of dirty and clean clothes all just got washed.  I feel calm.  I feel tired.  Sure I have moments of frustration, but God is carrying us.  I feel like I am serving the Lord........and that is so amazing to be a part of something so big. What a high honor to be a part of something He is doing that is THIS big.

I never want to forget His ways.  The ways He has balanced the hectic schedules, has provided the food, has provided the beds..........and the peace that He is giving me.  The enemy is among us, mostly attacking through my own children.  But my battle is not against my children, it is against the enemy.  And in Jesus name, He will not win.

Friday, March 27, 2015


This sweet girl came to us by chance just about three years ago.  She stumbled I to our lives and filled a void we didn't even know we had.

And tomorrow, we will deliver her to her new home.  And that void will be ripped wide open and leave me raw and exposed.

Recent testing has revealed that the majority of Ally's breathing problems (and truth be known, probably Emily's too) come from a severe dog allergy.  All the dog shampoos, vacuuming and purifiers can't change the fact that she can't live here anymore.

My head totally knows.
It's my heart that just can't comprehend.

Tonight as we settle in for the last time with this sweet girl, I can't stop the tears. And the heaviness in my chest is sucking the air right from my lungs.

I never planned to love this dog.  She wasn't the right size, breed or color.  Nothing about her was what I envisioned for our pet.  But she has become my sweet companion.  Always with me, on my feet at dinner, on between my legs on the couch, at the gate when we tend chickens and always lying along side me in bed.

The hole she will leave in this house is already overwhelming me.  I will so miss this sweet dog.

Praying for provision and peace that only He can provide for my family. And for my Rosie.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Time for change

We have lived in this house for 11 years.

11.  Wow.  We were in our house before that for almost 8.  That's a lot of time.

This was the house.  We had looked and looked.  Checked out various cities in every direction.  Scanned by multiple listings and drove by countless homes.  Not to mention the ones we actually stepped inside of.  Nothing felt right.

I kept thinking we would know.  But had begun to doubt that.

And then we drove by this one while looking at a different one in the area.  There was this feeling, this strange 'I've been here before' feeling.  And when we opened the front door to see the inside, I already knew this is where God wanted us.  I didn't even need to look around.

Each time over the years I have questioned our decision to buy a too small house in a not so super fabulous area, I remind myself of that feeling.  That knowing.  That presence that said this is where God had picked out for us.

I was 29 years old.  Allyson was 4.  Dan was 33.  We had one dog- Daisy Mae.  Facebook didn't exist and 9/11 was still very raw and real and recent.

I was a different person.  My family was smaller.  My faith was still in it's infancy.  My marriage was so hard, mainly because of me.  And I was still praying and expecting babies.

I painted my bathroom purple.  Light lilac purple.

And last week, I cracked open a new can of paint and I coated over what felt like the best decade of my life so far.  The one full of babies and laughter and realizations and growth...........and although it was just paint in a bathroom that can be painted 100 more times, I was saying goodbye to that portion of my world.

And then somehow the most perfect selection and plan of brown paper bag brown and safari brown paint turned into dang near black..............

Yup.  Things have sure changed.   I turn 40 in just a few short weeks.  F O R T Y.  I have never ever been one to freak out over birthdays..........but I have spent my entire life looking forward to my thirties.  And they have been awesome.  But now, turning the corner to forty puts me into an area of my life I have never ever even thought of.  I am now the one who can remember actors that the young moms haven't ever heard of, I will never hold a tiny baby inside my belly again, and more frequently than not the young baggers at the grocery call me 'mam'. (no I do not need help to the car, thank you very much).

A new area of my life.  And a black bathroom.

But before you worry I am entering a mid life crisis, rest assured I am not.  Just preparing for a new trip into uncharted territory.  One that will involve quiet dinners out without crayons or kids menus........or kids for that matter........where my husband remembers why he chose me.  One where I sit in the passenger seat as I instruct my children how to operate a vehicle.  And one where wrinkles and gray hairs are more frequent than not.

I am certain that this next section of my life is going to be even better than the one we are leaving.  And that just like my bathroom, I will probably like it even better than before.

Good bye lilac purple.  Hello safari brown.