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Whenever I experience heartache and devastation, I somehow always wind up on a floor (usually the kitchen floor), bawling like a baby, and unsure if I am capable of pulling myself up again. I can recall vividly the floor in the McDonald’s bathroom in Hungary that I collapsed on after hearing the news that my best friend’s dad was in a car accident and doctors weren’t hopeful. I think it’s my body’s reaction to how I am feeling – beat up, broken, torn, lifeless. On this journey to care for 3 kiddies in the foster system that God called us on, I have found myself on our kitchen floor more than once.

 

Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes bad things happen to reasonably decent people (because in case you haven’t read Romans, we’re all dirty sinners – so the phrase “bad things happen to good people” doesn’t really apply to anyone, except Jesus). Sometimes bad things happen to really awful (by the world’s standards) people. Sometimes bad things happen to those following Jesus. And I can’t even begin to try to explain this or understand it, except to say that the world was broken and filled with awfulness when sin entered back with Adam & Eve. But that answer is never comforting when you’re the one the bad things are happening to, especially when you’re just trying to be obedient to the Father. I know this because bad things have happened to us along this journey of obedience.

 

We have been beat up by the Enemy. We have been bruised and broken and torn. There have been days when I wasn’t sure if I would ever get up off of my kitchen floor. Our entire family – even the dogs – have been affected. And the kids we were caring for have been affected far more than we have. I am not going to go into details of what happened, but the kids were removed 2 weeks ago at our request. I realize that you cannot fully grasp what we have been and are going through without details. But I will leave it at this, some of my biggest fears came to life – remember here when I said adopting a baby came with less risk? Those words have never been truer.

 

Some people have and will say that we just couldn’t hack it. Some people have and will say that we should just have biological children now – it must be a sign. Some people have and will say, “I told you so.” Some people have and will say, “You think God called you to this?” Some people have and will say that we took on too much. And some of you may be right. Maybe we couldn’t hack it. Maybe you did tell us. Maybe we did take on too much.

 

But in the end, we don’t answer to any of you. In the end, Christ is our reward. In the end, it is God’s approval that we want, not man’s. In the end, our sufferings will be a drop in the bucket compared to the glory of Heaven. In the end, there will be no more bawling on my kitchen floor. In the end, I know I will say it was all worth it. Because Christ is always worth it, even on the days I’m not quite sure. Christ is worth it because He told me that I was worth it.

 

This song by Superchicks has been my anthem the past couple of weeks. I am clinging to the promise that there will be a dawn and that we are being purified like gold in the fire. And we are pressing on. We still know that God has called us to adoption through the foster system. We know that this could and probably will lead to more heartache. But our hope is in the Giver and Sustainer of life. Our hope is in the One who gave up His Son in order to make us heirs.

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