I’m glad I’m not God.
He’s got more on his plate then I could ever handle.
A case in point:
I had a foster daughter once. Thirty years ago. One thing I learned from this was God has not called me into foster care. Because of my six-month stint with my foster daughter, I admire those who can nurture the problem children of others.
One family in our church has all the giftings I do not have. Seeing as I’m so original, I’ll call them the Smiths. This family devotes their lives to children—their own and fosters. One little girl with spina bifada and cognitive issues started out in their home only to eventually be adopted by the Smith’s daughter. This child now owns a wheelchair with flashing lights on its tires. She smiles always, and is never without someone to hold her, hug her, or play with her. To see this cherub is to love her and understand the power of love. All thanks to the Smith family.
A teenager came into their lives. At nearly sixteen, the teen was ready to age out of the system. “Mary” became the Smith’s official, adopted daughter about a year ago.
This family had already raised an adopted daughter with cardiac problems she shouldn’t have survived. She is happily married now—a sassy, vibrant lover of Jesus.
Have I said I admire this family?
Anyone who has an acquaintance with the foster system understands the problems associated with it. These children were raised by people with values and personalities different from us. For the most part, they come from dysfunctional homes where sin corroded their lives. Foster parents need to adjust their lives to attempt to understand their needs and adapt to their interests. The kids bring their dysfunction with them, along with problems that often resurrect after puberty hits. The foster parents must learn to mitigate the problems.
Have I told you I couldn’t do this?
And I watch the Smiths in awe. I could enumerate their imperfections because they are human and thus exhibit limitations, but they sacrifice and love. Often, they suffer heartbreak when a beloved child who knew only them since infancy is whisked away to relatives who may host a bevy of problems of their own.
The Smiths and foster parents make me think of God. He adopted each of us into his family.
I can’t speak for anyone reading this blog—but that He loves me enough to make me his child, blows my mind. I intimately know the depth of my sins—or let’s be kind to me—my eccentricities.
Inspired by the Smiths, my book Borrowed Lives took shape. Meredith Jaynes finds three neglected girls apparently abandoned by their parents. Her own broken life makes her feel inadequate to care for the children. Still, she sacrifices because not doing so would separate the girls.
The results? (you’d have to read to find out). We do know the promises of God don’t always match our expectations. However, He makes all things work together for good. This novel is filled with love, laughter and faith. You can find it on Amazon.
I’d love to connect with you. Visit carolmcclain.com and sign up for my newsletter and blog.
Carol McClain is the award-winning author of four novels dealing with real people facing real problems. She is a consummate encourager, and no matter what your faith might look like, you will find compassion, humor and wisdom in her complexly layered, but ultimately readable work.
Aside from writing, she’s a skilled stained-glass artist, an avid hiker and photographer. She lives in East Tennessee. Her most recent interests are her two baby goats Peanut & Buttercup. Like all babies, they love sitting on our laps and being bottle fed.
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