For those of you that do not know, my family has taken up a serious responsibility in foster care. I was a little skeptical at first but some people in our church were fostering kids and it was a joy to watch and so I slowly caught on to the idea.
A couple of weeks ago we took in our first child. An 18 month old precious little boy. Mom calls him "blue eyes" on facebook and he is just the cutest little dude. I come home from school in the evenings and give him a big kiss everyday and he usually lunges away from whoever is holding him to come hang out with me. He is pretty awesome. He loves to throw things, has a massive temper, is always out and about, and I love him to death.
Right now I am babysitting and he is starring at me playing peek-a-boo from his crib. He is my little bro.
The thought hit me tonight, how temporary this could be. Who knows what the next court date could bring and where he could be tomorrow? God does. But I don't.
That is the hardest thing for me to grasp. The fact that someone didn't love him enough to put out the effort to be there for him and care for him, suddenly wants to take him back. Yeah we are supposed to be in the business of restoring families and if all goes well this is SUPPOSED to be temporary... but why did it happen? Everything that the mom has done so far shows a half hearted effort at best to get him back. The Dad is no better. It has been weeks since my little buddy has been in our care and the Dad is JUST NOW trying to make it for a court date. He has some excuse of not having enough money, but I have only been with this kid for a few weeks and already I would walk across the freakin state to go pick him up if that was what needed to happen.
The thought of giving him back to someone that doesn't care is wrong. Is the mother thinking about him right now the way I miss him when I'm at school and haven't seen him in a few days cause I get home when he is asleep? What could be so important in her life to have chosen that over this little guy? Nothing.
It's not right. None of it is. It hurts to think about. He is lying in bed babbling on and saying, "mama, mama, mama, mama..." over and over and over again while he goes to sleep, and I can't help but think that the person he is talking about didn't care enough about him to take care of him. The person he thinks he is talking about, if he really understands the meaning of the word, is my mom, a person that does love him, does care about him, and wants the best for him like a real mother should.
Lord help me through whatever happens next.