"Nearly half the world's population, 2.8 billion people, survive on less that $2 a day."
Tha magnitute of that fact doesn't escape me. Sure, I worry about when we're finally going to be out of debt, when we're going to buy a piece of land to call our own, but the accumulation of our blessed wealth is staggering in comparison to the world.
Spoiled. Blessed. Privileged. And unbeknownst, entitled.
I most certainly am.
I look at my life and see a safe, quiet bubble that I've conveniently diverged myself into. I've failed to get my hands dirty and rarely, concern myself with anyone other than myself, my husband, and our children.
The last few months have changed my core. I didn't just accept Jesus into my life but I want so desperately to allow him to change my very core.
Do I know how crazy that sounds to non-Christians?
I was there, myself, looking quite strangely at those people who say they don't have a religion but "a relationship with Jesus."
But I get it now. I totally get it.
Jesus, His teachings, the life we're called to have makes us yearn for something bigger than ourselves. For a life outside of just what we can see.
Which leads me to: why do I want to foster?
I don't want to live a life concerned merely about myself and conveniencing myself. There are children who need help and I want to help.
More than anything, I feel like it's a calling from God and we're suppose to be someone else's parent ... if only for a short time, if not, forever.
Sure, I want Ali to have a sister - for the rest of her life.
But I don't want to just take a child, any child, away from their parent(s). Reunification is the goal in foster care - I think it's God intention for children to live, be loved, and raised by their biological family. I want that. I desire to want what's best for "this" child.
I'm not devoid of emotion and I'm acutely aware of the pain that loving and losing a child will have on me and my family but loving a child, biological or otherwise, is never, never about possession.
Love is about putting someone's needs before yourself and sacrificing for the betterment of another. My pain may be that very sacrifice.
As for the effect this may have on our children? Of course, I wish to shelter them from the realities of this world but I care more about the people they'll be and the character they'll have over the loss they may encounter.
I don't want them to fear doing the right thing, the kind thing, because of the sacrifice they will have to make. Truly, how can one serve another when no true sacrifice has been made? How big of a difference can you make if nothing from your life actually changes?
I want my children to learn to be selfless and compassionate. I don't want them to worry about every conceivable negative consequence that can and may occur when they love and serve others, when they show someone else God's love.
How can I teach them that?
Well, I see no other way than to do so myself.