"One such little child"... or two

Last Sunday, I slipped into the back of the primary room and watched him as he interacted with his teacher. The boy is one year younger than my second son and probably twice as heavy--an adorably pudgy kid with dark hair, tan skin, and almond-shaped eyes.  His white collar Sunday shirt was untucked from his black slacks that were rolled up to show off his long striped socks and Air Jordan shoes.  He rarely sat still during the class and occasionally made spontaneous outbursts of animal noises. From what the other ward members had told me, his behavior has made tremendous progress since mid July, when he first began living with the young newly married couple.

He didn't notice me sitting in the back of the room... and even if he had glanced over, he wouldn't have thought anything of me being there.  He hadn't been told about me yet, even though his social worker has been working with my resource counselor to place him and his little sister in our home.

I started imagining him living with us and wondered how all of my own children would interact with him, especially my younger son, who would be his new roommate.  Fears of personality clashes, emotional adjustments, and the huge upheaval of lifestyle change for my 11-yr. old began to nag at me:  "Micah is extremely compassionate and very giving. He loves to help others but will tuck tail and run if they are ever mean--he's terribly sensitive when someone is rude to him. He's the most flexible of all of my children yet, I don't want this situation to break him or be too much for him." I continued to question, "What are we doing? Are we asking too much of all of our kids to bring these foster children in our home?" I took a deep breath and tried not to let my worries plague my mind.

I stepped out of the primary room and finished up the rest of the hour in Relief Society.  After our church services were over, I had to head down the street to watch a primary program in a neighboring ward.  It was my second program I was scheduled to watch that Sunday.

I arrived at the other church 15 minutes early.  With all my fears still weighing on me, I decided to find an empty classroom where I could just pray and study the scriptures before the program began.  Tears rolled down my face as I pled for strength to accomplish this mission God has called us to.  It will be hard for our whole family. I question my own abilities. Sometimes, I shake my head in disbelief, "Lord, why on earth do you think I can do this? I am so far from the kind of mother I want to be with my own biological children. How can I be a good mother to someone else's?" I flipped through the pages in my Bible and read, "Whoso shall receive one such little child in My name receiveth Me." (Matthew 18:5) I knew it was true!

It doesn't matter who these children belong to. Any child that comes to my home needs to know that I would receive them as if they were the Savior, Himself. I know that God's hand has been in all of this.  I do not doubt that He sent us to this very specific place because of this boy and this girl.

It was the perfect day for me to read the scripture in Matthew because at the end of both primary programs--the morning and the afternoon, the Bishop from each ward shared his testimony and quoted from the verses previous,  "And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, and said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:2-4) Comfortingly, I said to myself, "This is His work.  This is His work."

The caretaker of the foster children from my ward called me this past week and asked if I'd watch the two kids while they were on fall break.  I took them during the day for three days.  It has been good for all of us to meet them, to spend time with them.  Now they know we're foster parents.  I was surprised to see the boy was already quite familiar with our home.  He began to name where all the furniture used to be from the previous owners.  I guess his mother was friends with the woman we bought our home from and he had been here several times with her.

This weekend, we did respite care again for a nine-yr. old girl and her baby brother.  (We've watched them twice before.) There was an overlap where we had them and the two foster children who are getting placed with us--making four foster kids total in our home. Micah and Miriam also had a friend visiting for a good chunk of the day, adding two more kids to the mix. I didn't feel overwhelmed by all the children though, in fact I had more energy than I had all week long.  It was a definite tender mercy. These are the kinds of little miracles I'll need and I'll be expecting to carry us through in the future.

Today, I saw the foster children at church again.  But this time they knew me. They smiled shyly and waved from the bench across the row.  They are good kids and I can feel my heart open to them. Their caretaker is going to break the news to them this week that they'll be living with us. I don't know how long it will be before the children are placed in our home permanently--I imagine it will be less than a month.  I hope to be able to stay on top of my schoolwork because I'm so close to finishing this semester.  I continue to pray for strength beyond my own.  I pray for my husband, for my children, that we all will be able to unite through this effort and draw closer.  This is not a small undertaking.  Sometimes, I'm terrified, absolutely terrified... but we're still moving ahead... one foot in front of the other.

"[We] can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth [us]."- Philippians 4:13

-Alicia :)

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