On the Fight

Today, I am grateful for the closing prayer.

It’s only in retrospect that it all came together for me.

The word was good.

Don’t be afraid.

Remember the Lord.

And fight.

The story was Nehemiah, rebuilding the wall around Jerusalem.

Posting a guard at the exposed places,

the vulnerable places.

Equipping them with the necessary weapons.

Exhorting them to fight for their families.

Anyone who knows me knows that I will fight for my family in one hot minute.

One. Hot. Minute.

It’s only in retrospect that I realized the exposed place,

the vulnerable place for me is foster care.

Am I willing to sift through the rubble and start the long, hard work of rebuilding?

Am I willing to fight for these babies’ families—with weapons that seek not to crush, but to restore?

Am I willing to rally the troops with a battle cry less “take no prisoners” and more “set the prisoners free?”

Can I tell you the truth?

This is hard.

Really, really hard.

But today, I know the God of Nehemiah.

Today, I choose to fight for family.

Even if it is not my own.

I choose to fight.

On my knees.

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