Before we adopted, I was growing. I got two degrees in education and attended training for trauma, special education, and foster parenting. We got some tough on-the-job training with two previous foster placements. I learned to navigate the endless paperwork, the unending parade of social workers, and the sleepless, prayerful nights. I also ran the birth-Kinder program for our church and later taught preschoolers and Kindergarteners at a private school.
At least on paper, I looked good! I—being me—am intimately aware of my
weaknesses and outright wretchedness. But even I was blind to too many issues.
I thought I was pretty grown up and ready as I would ever be to mother more
children. Ho, ho, ho! God had another
think for me!
Since welcoming these precious little people into our home,
hearts, and lives, that thought has quite rudely smacked me to the floor. Turns
out, I have problems so vast and varied that I frequently wonder if I have any
business at all mothering anyone.
God uses the kids to sort out my myriad flaws. That seems upside to me. These kids are
bruised and vulnerable. Why use them to
work out all my flaws? If you know me, you already know I despise using the
term ‘deserve’ for much of anything. But these girls deserve better than
that. Even if they don’t deserve it,
they certainly need it.
But here we are: the girls living their lives and me frantically
trying to learn my lessons and peel away the defects before I cause more harm.
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