Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

 

After drinking deeply from the Word of God, I take another sip of coffee. I have a few quiet moments before children wake and chaos arises. Why not check Facebook, Instagram or that blog with beautiful pictures nestled between words of “motherhood” and “healthy recipes”?

I begin to scroll. I pause at a picture of a dreamy baby room eagerly prepared by a loving new mom; “It’s a Girl!” I see those big pink bows and the delicate swaddles. Everything looks so perfect in the social media world.

I keep scrolling.

More pictures. Mama’s trendy shoes, next to Baby’s little shoes and Daddy’s manly shoes with the caption, “Our family is growing!” I read the latest mommy blog dissecting the hardships of motherhood.

Half of my heart relates to what I read and the other half feels completely alone on this island called Foster Care.

I’m a new mommy. But I never took the little shoe picture announcing our family was growing. No, instead I was filling out paperwork, getting background checks and going through training on how to restrain my child. I didn’t have the privilege of knowing the gender of my child before he or she arrived. No, I just received a phone call asking if we would take him or her or maybe both of them. Within hours they were at our doorstep, frightened and confused.

I read about sleep deprivation. Oh yes, I have sleep deprivation, because I wake night after night to my child screaming due to trauma. I endlessly rock our five-pound foster daughter wondering how different her fragile body would look if she had received proper nutrients from conception. She cries and cries and cries. She is brand new to this world, my smell, my voice and my touch. I don’t have to suffer through breast tenderness, but oh, how I long to breastfeed her to give her the nutrients she needs. Instead of dressing her in cute newborn outfits I am charting weight gain. The doctor’s words ring in my ears, “We’ve got to give her a fighting chance.”

And in the rare moment when everyone is sleeping I place my weary body in the shower and stand there . . . sobbing.

Tired?

Yes.

Overwhelmed?

Absolutely.

I keep sobbing, letting my bottled up emotions run over me like the water hitting my skin. I just stand there.

All the newness of motherhood rushes over me, but that is not all. I hold their stories. I’ve entered into their stories, their pain, their cries and their fears. I’ve loved deeper than I ever dreamed and I’ve grieved deeper than I even knew possible. I remember why we said, “yes” those months ago. I remember counting the cost, but now I’m living it. And it’s costly.

Is it worth it?

YES.

Is it easy?

No.

There is nothing easy about being a new mama. Whether one became a mother through biological children, adoption, or foster care, none of it is easy. There is great sacrifice and great joy entangled in our human hearts as we pour ourselves out to precious little ones. But for the mama who began motherhood through fostering there is a different kind of pouring out, a different kind of hard.

As the new mama, welcoming motherhood through fostering, I’ve poured out my whole heart to experience heartache and tears. I’ve given of myself, despite all the hardships these littles have brought me. I have tasted the sweet life of motherhood just to experience the death of it as well. Just as quickly as the phone rang and they showed up at my door, the phone rang again and they were gone, leaving me with a silent home and the ringing of “mommy” in my ears. My floor once covered with crumbs left behind as evidence of life is now covered with all the shattered pieces of my heart.

I stand in the shower once more. Sobbing.

With each hello and embrace of a new life I know it could mean yet another goodbye. I bravely cry out to God in desperation to fill the aching hole in my heart as I pack those bags, yet again. I ask Him to stitch back together all the places I’ve given freely to that first little one, and the second, the third and the fourth life I’ve embraced.

I’ve lost pieces of my heart along the way because I believe “give to the least of these” is glorifying to God and more important than my comfort. I have suffered, so their suffering would be minimal. I said, “yes” because I believed God would be with me through the valley and mountain. I stepped up to being the “other mommy” while she needed to get her feet back under her. I have graciously taken the hurtful, “oh, so those aren’t your kids” comment time and time again because I believe God wants to use our journey to redefine the lines of love and family for us and others.

He sees me and He sees you, foster mommy. He sees our shaking hands and broken heart. He promises to never leave us or forsake us, as well as the ones we love. He is with us, side by side, holding our fragile hearts in the palms of His steady hands. He indeed is gaining the glory for our sacrificial journey of motherhood. All of this is about Him and His glory. So take heart foster mommy, He is with us.

Originally published on the author’s blog

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

AJ Wilson

I am a wife and mommy to three who came to my arms through adoption. My husband and I have lived in Africa, Texas and Alabama in our short 4.5 years of marraige. Living in the villages of Africa, fostering and adopting in the States all while traveling deeper into the heart of God has been themes of our last few years.   

God Had Different Plans

In: Faith, Motherhood
Silhouette of family swinging child between two parents

As I sip my twice-reheated coffee holding one baby and watching another run laps around the messy living room, I catch bits and pieces of the Good Morning America news broadcast. My mind drifts off for a second to the dreams I once had of being the one on the screen. Live from New York City with hair and makeup fixed before 6 a.m. I really believed that would be me. I just knew I’d be the one telling the mama with unwashed hair and tired eyes about the world events that happened overnight while she rocked babies and pumped milk....

Keep Reading

This Will Not Last Forever

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman looking at sunset

“This will not last forever,” I wrote those words on the unfinished walls above my daughter’s changing table. For some reason, it got very tiring to change her diapers. Nearly three years later, the words are still there though the changing table no longer is under them. While my house is still unfinished so I occasionally see those words, that stage of changing diapers for her has moved on. She did grow up, and I got a break. Now I do it for her baby brother. I have been reminding myself of the seasons of life again. Everything comes and...

Keep Reading

God Calls Me Flawless

In: Faith, Living
Note hanging on door, color photo

When I look in the mirror, I don’t always like what I see. I tend to focus on every imperfection, every flaw. As I age, more wrinkles naturally appear. And I’ve never been high maintenance, so the gray hairs are becoming more frequent, too. Growing up a lot of negative words were spoken about me: my body, my weight, my hair, my build. Words I’ve somehow carried my whole life. The people who proclaimed them as my truth don’t even remember what they said, I’m sure. But that’s the power of negative words. Sticks and stones may break our bones,...

Keep Reading

Your Husband Needs Friendship Too

In: Faith, Friendship, Marriage
3 men smiling outside

As the clock inches closer to 7:00 on a Monday evening, I pull out whatever dessert I had prepared that week and set it out on the kitchen counter. This particular week it’s a trifle, but other weeks it may be brownies, pound cake, or cookies of some kind. My eyes do one last sweep to make sure there isn’t a tripping hazard disguised as a dog toy on the floor and that the leftover dinner is put away. Then, my kids and I make ourselves scarce. Sometimes that involves library runs or gym visits, but it mostly looks like...

Keep Reading

This Is Why Moms Ask for Experience Gifts

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Mother and young daughter under Christmas lights wearing red sweaters

When a mama asks for experience gifts for her kids for Christmas, please don’t take it as she’s ungrateful or a Scrooge. She appreciates the love her children get, she really does. But she’s tired. She’s tired of the endless number of toys that sit in the bottom of a toy bin and never see the light of day. She’s tired of tripping over the hundreds of LEGOs and reminding her son to pick them up so the baby doesn’t find them and choke. She’s tired of having four Elsa dolls (we have baby Elsa, Barbie Elsa, a mini Elsa,...

Keep Reading

When You Just Don’t Feel Like Christmas

In: Faith, Living
Woman sad looking out a winter window

It’s hard to admit, but some years I have to force myself to decorate for Christmas. Some years the lights look a little dimmer. The garlands feel a bit heavier. And the circumstances of life just aren’t wrapped in a big red bow like I so wish they were. Then comparison creeps in like a fake Facebook friend and I just feel like hiding under the covers and skipping it all. Because I know there’s no way to measure up to the perfect life “out there.” And it all just feels heavier than it used to. Though I feel alone,...

Keep Reading

When Your Kids Ask, “Where Is God?”

In: Faith, Kids
Child looking at sunset

How do I know if the voice I’m hearing is God’s voice? When I was in high school, I found myself asking this question. My dad was a pastor, and I was feeling called to ministry. I didn’t know if I was just hearing my dad’s wish or the call of God. I was worried I was confusing the two. It turns out, I did know. I knew because I was raised to recognize the presence of God all around me. Once I knew what God’s presence felt like, I also knew what God’s voice sounded like. There is a...

Keep Reading

To the Woman Longing to Become a Mother

In: Faith, Grief, Motherhood
Woman looking at pregnancy test with hand on her head and sad expression

To the woman who is struggling with infertility. To the woman who is staring at another pregnancy test with your flashlight or holding it up in the light, praying so hard that there will be even the faintest line. To the woman whose period showed up right on time. To the woman who is just ready to quit. I don’t know the details of your story. I don’t know what doctors have told you. I don’t know how long you have been trying. I don’t know how many tears you have shed. I don’t know if you have lost a...

Keep Reading

I Was There to Walk My Mother to Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Hand holding older woman's hand

I prayed to see my momma die. Please don’t click away yet or judge me harshly after five seconds. I prayed to see, to experience, to be in the room, to be a part of every last millisecond of my momma’s final days, final hours, and final moments here on Earth. You see, as a wife of a military man, I have always lived away from my family. I have missed many birthdays, celebrations, dinners, and important things. But my heart couldn’t miss this important moment. I live 12 hours away from the room in the house where my momma...

Keep Reading

God Sent Me to You

In: Faith, Motherhood
Newborn gazing at mother with father smiling down

I was a little unsure As I left God’s warm embrace: What will it be like? What challenges will I face? There were so many questions Running through my mind. I asked around for the answers I was hoping to find. Who will hold me And cuddle me tight? Who will rock me To sleep at night? RELATED: The Newborn Nights Feel As Endless As My Love For You Who will comfort me When I’ve had a rough day? Who will be there To take my worries away? Who will nourish me And make sure I grow? Who will read...

Keep Reading