The Hope Room

Today I anxiously drove our new foster baby, Baby S, to her family visit. I've only visited the exterior of the family services building, so I didn't know what was in store. Would I inadvertently meet her family? Would other biological parents in the waiting room look toward me with anger? Would I be able to handle whatever happened?

I carried her through the entrance door and found a medium-sized room that was almost full of people waiting. After anxiously signing in, I found one of the few empty chairs and sat with Baby S. My heart was racing, and as I dared to look around me, the Spirit said, "Don't fear this room. Pay attention and see what I want you to learn." And in an instant a peace that can only come from the Lord drowned my heart with compassion.

A friendly worker sitting next to me carried on a conversation and swooned over sweet Baby S. Then another woman commented how beautiful S was and asked if I was her mother. When I responded as S's foster mother, the woman smiled endearingly. Then I noticed a couple sitting across the room who seemed sorrowful and anxious. I wondered, "What is their story?" Just keep paying attention, He said. Then two women who could have very well been Baby S's relatives entered and I caught a stare from the elder. I cautiously smiled and turned my attention back to S only for the women to sit next to me. The younger woman couldn't resist speaking to S, but it wasn't until she asked me the baby's name that I realized she wasn't S's mother. Yet through speaking with the woman, and noticing the new baby dress she held fondly in her lap, she did have a baby daughter similar in age. Soon after three small children came in and excitedly hugged the couple sitting across the room and I realized they were biological parents waiting for their children to arrive for a family visit. And five minutes later three more children came in and also hugged and kissed them. This couple had their six children removed from their home. Yet, by viewing their loving reunion, I felt hope - not only for their specific situation, but for the whole system.

This isn't a room to be feared, but a room of hope.

I didn't feel any spiritual hindrances in that room, nor did I feel hatred or condemnation. But I did feel the overwhelming presence of God. No situation is beyond reconciliation, Leah. The Lord pushed this experience on me, and I'm grateful he continues to stretch my comfort zone because as I witness broken hearts I witness an even greater display of his grace. It's not that being a foster parent isn't messy, but it's the mess that is opening my eyes. It's the mess that is showing me the very heart of God.

And I say that with such great conviction! For so long I have fought against the mess and fought against what makes me uncomfortable. I've sought convenience and prideful ambitions over effort and sacrifice. And I know I've only begun to taste what the Lord has in store when it comes to sacrifice. Almost everyone we talk to responds, "I could never give the children back - it would be too hard." Yes, it is hard, friend. Gut-wrenching, pain-wrecking, tear-inducing hard. But with great sacrifice comes great reward. There is no end in sight for our family when it comes to adopting a baby girl, yet that is what we are called to do. We will continue moving forward and trusting the Lord to reveal his special plan for our future daughter. And we will be able to look back at everything else and see his hand working for his providential purposes.

So, I dub the waiting room the Hope Room. As long as there are people present it means we haven't lost hope and God is still moving.