My parents started foster care a year ago. Thus far, we've only had one baby boy for about six months. Even though I was physically present for less than three weeks total with this little guy, he captured my heart. When he left, there was a gaping hole. My feelings of loss and overflowing tears astonished me with their frequency and intensity. Visiting him at Thanksgiving only reminded me of the raw tenderness of his absence.
Perhaps I will feel differently if the next foster child doesn't smile at me adoringly, giggle repeatedly at my antics, or snuggle with me for a nap.
I doubt it.
This little boy became my brother. He belonged in my family. I loved hearing his soft babbling or even aggravated cries in the background of my phone calls home. I loved hearing my mom speak "baby talk" with him. I loved having my old bedroom transformed into a nursery and finding an assortment of swings, burp cloths, and rattling toys all over the house.
Even though he's gone, I still have four brothers. He's in my family, though not physically present. The next foster child will become my sibling, too.
Actually, I have more than four brothers. I have millions. Some of them are homeless, others are millionaires; some are white, others black; some live in the middle of nowhere, others live in skyscrapers. I also have millions of sisters. I don't know them all personally. But, we belong together.
Russell Moore, the author of Adopted for Life, spoke on February 26, 2012, at College Church's Missions Conference. I highly recommend listening to it. "In God the Orphan Finds Mercy" reminds me that I belong. We belong. I love his point about how we evangelicals talk about "giving your life to God." God doesn't want your life. It's a wreck. Instead, embrace what God gives: a new identity, a new family. Fully known and accepted.
And welcoming others into that family.
