I wrote last week about foster care. And one line of that post has haunted me since.
We do what we must.
I know that not everyone is called to become a foster parent.
I don’t think it’s something that I will do for many years.
But, today, I must.
And here’s why—
I must because I cannot stand the idea of these little ones without a safe place, without a home, without mama-love that is unconditional, even if it is not forever.
I must because it is not their fault. Not ever. Just as much as anyone else, they deserve to know every single day that they are treasured and adored.
I must because there are no guarantees in life—not even with our “own” kids. And today matters. What we do today matters.
I must because, yes, I am sure that my heart will explode if good-byes are in our future (and I’m terrified that my daughter’s heart will explode too). And yet somehow, in my better moments, I muster the courage to pray for this. For healing, for deliverance, for restoration.
And in the rest of my moments, I just pray, “Jesus.” He’s enough.
I must because when I pleaded with Jesus to just be done, to call life with my beautiful, feisty seven-year-old enough, the word was “one thing. One thing is necessary.” (Lk. 10:41-42)
The picture was Mary, sitting at Jesus’ feet.
And so I sit.
In my living room.
In the doctor’s office.
In the cold lobby of a building where the lighting is too harsh, and so is the reality.
Because Jesus is here.
Because, today, I must.