11 February 2014

play your one note

When our boys came in to foster care their first placement was with an older foster mom lovingly called "Grandmother."  They were there for a week or so. It was too hard for Grandmother though, so they called the woman that became their foster mama for 8 months.  She told us the story of how she was in Florida when they called to see if she could possibly take them.  She recalled speeding back up to Columbus while on the phone telling the caseworker, "don't you separate those babies! I'll be there as fast as I can, don't you dare send them to separate homes!"

I remember feeling so grateful for her determination for our boys -- before she even met them.  I thought about this story all over again today.

I went to the foster care supply closet with a small agenda.  I wanted to take a quick inventory and hang up some happy words.  The closet was actually a bit of a wreck... a few things were shoved in random places, lots of empty hangers lying around.  Which tells me it must have been a busy week for kids coming in to care. It didn't take long to get things back in order (by God's grace, there is order in that space!).  I took an inventory but I haven't yet compared it to last week's list or really even pondered it at all.  After I hung the little buntings, I talked with one of the caseworkers.

She told me about a sibling set of four -- the oldest is 7 the youngest is 6 months or so.  {I have to break this down for you, because each line is heavy and deserves some space around it.}

Last night they spent the night in four separate full-to-capacity foster homes.

They are awaiting placement in a county an hour away.

There are ZERO available foster homes in our county today. 

Y'all, can you even imagine?  Four kiddos, 7 and under - separated from one another.  I pray they are placed together even if it is far off.

Right now in our county, EVERY child that comes in to care will have to go to another county.  EVERY foster home is full.  Every sibling set will likely spend at least a night apart while the caseworkers scramble to find a foster home to take all of them.

I got to my car and bawled and prayed.   What else could I do?  I tried not to let the instagram picture of the little buntings sting too much, as those tiny, felt words seemed so so small.

I remembered this quote from Jen Hatmaker, "You play your one note & I'll play mine; and together we'll be a song that sounds like freedom for the captives."

I believe God is doing a great work in our community.  I am humbled to be allowed to glimpse it from my current place.  I am praying for the ones He is calling up to become foster parents, for the ones that will support them, for the ones that are praying for the children-in-crisis. 

I'm going to keep playing my one note.  I'm so grateful that I get to.

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