Fostering Update: Keep On Keepin’ On

So it’s been a while since my last update. Mostly because there hadn’t been much of an update until recently. We’ve just been trucking along, working through the small daily tasks that add up to more than the sum of their parts. Fostering and adopting sounds like a noble cause – and it is – but much of the time, it’s just day following day where you have to keep on moving.

There’s been a debate in recent months on doing big things for God vs. living your quiet, everyday ordinary Christian life. I have a few thoughts on that topic, but mostly, I think it’s more of a both/and than an either/or. The big things are often made up of the small, mundane, ordinary everyday things that add up to a life well-lived.

Fostering isn’t heroically dashing into a ramshackle house to snatch three filthy kids out from under their drug-addled father’s iron fist seconds before his meth lab explodes. Fostering is parenting — just more so because there are more kids. Fostering is getting up in the middle of the night when she wakes up sobbing for no discernible reason. Fostering is sweeping up the crumbs that somehow covered the floor in the 2.9 seconds since the last time you swept. Fostering is scaling the highest peak known to man – Mt. Laundry – every day. Fostering is peeling off the wet jeans because she didn’t want to take time to pee in the potty. Fostering is turning the house upside down looking for her glasses. Fostering is shoving the Tour-de-France style lineup of bikes out of the way (again) so you can get the van in the garage. Fostering is figuring out exactly when you can fit in another parent-teacher conference. Fostering is playing referee all day long. Fostering is hair dryers and rubber bands and hair bows and many other contraptions that a dad’s hands were not made to operate. Fostering is putting one foot in front of the other, day after day after day.

That’s basically been the last few months. But, a couple of weeks ago, a news flash: both parents have signed over their parental rights to the state. The process had stalled out because the dad was not responding to calls. He’s been out of circulation since November — not calling, texting, seeing his girls, anything. DCBS is understaffed and overworked, so they didn’t have time to pursue him. Supermom Kelsey finally got him to respond to a text.

So now, on April 15, a judge will officially terminate the parental rights of two twenty-something citizens. They will no longer have claim to their biological offspring. Our girls will legally have no parents other than the Commonwealth of Kentucky until the official adoption date can be set a couple of months later. Then, the judge’s gavel will fall and the girls will get a new last name.

The mom is due any day with her fourth child. None of her previous kids live with her. This one, we hope, will be different. She’s more stable. She’s older. She has our phone number and our offer of whatever advice we can give. Pray for her.

The dad is homeless, the last we heard. The cousin he was living with (where the girls used to spend the night) got back into drugs, so he moved out. Good call, but hard. Pray for him. 

And so, we keep on keepin’ on. Pray that we’re faithful, pray that in weakness we’re made strong, pray for grace. Five kids, full days, full hearts. God is good.