Foster parents. Those people who choose to Love a child that is not their own are people that I greatly admire. I have nothing but respect and huge admiration for these vessels of GOD. I believe that they are really angels on earth.

Here is a short story of one such Foster Family who

CHOSE TO LOVE A CHILD

WHO WAS NOT THIER OWN.

‘Where am I?’ She sits up fast and looks around bewildered. Heart pounding and breathing fast she tries to swallow the terror that threatens. Wide awake now, she rubs the sleep from her eyes. ‘Mommy?” It comes out a chocked and silent whisper. “Mommy, where are you?”

Confused and afraid, the little girl lays back down and pulls the blankets up tighter as she listens for her mother. Downstairs an unfamiliar clock ticks. Outside a dog barks in the distance. Her bed, the windows, the sunshine…it’s all wrong. Nothing is as it should be.

How did I get here she wonders?
Then it all comes back….slowly…like a very bad dream. Daddy yelling. Mommy screaming back. Beer cans and thick putrid smoke hanging near the ceiling. A slap. A cry. The police.

The tears come then. Slow and silent at first, then building in strength and volume. “Mommy, where are you,” she screams.

The stairs creak. She pulls the blankets higher. A head appears followed by a body of a kind looking old man.
Her eyes stare with fear.

Slowly, he walks to her bed, bends close, tugs on her blanket and smiles. “Good morning sunshine. Are you ready for some breakfast,” His voice gently coos?
“Here, stand up and look out this window. Do you see that bird on the garage roof? He is welcoming you to my house.”
She looks at the old man. The fear slipping. He helps her to stand and look.
“There, you see him—the blue one? Don’t you like his song? The old man mimics the bird’s song.
“Can you whistle,” he asks?
She shakes her head no, purses her lips and tries to make a sound appear.
“Good try. Wow, do you hear him now—He is really going to town isn’t he. I think he is telling us that breakfast is ready. Let’s go eat, and you can meet Grandma and Karen.” He takes her hand, helps her jump to the carpet and together they head down the stairs to meet the rest of the family.

Grandma receives her with a hug. She climbs onto her lap and melts into her. “I want mommy, I want my mommy,” she hiccups with sobs.
“I know you do baby. Shhh shhh, it’s all going to be OK. You will see your mamma soon, I promise.” The tears slow then. “But until we can see her, Grandpa, Karen and I will take good care of you. You don’t have to worry, OK?” She nods. It feels good to be held. It feels good to be loved.

Breakfast goes smoothly—tears are gone for now. Grandpa tickles her neck and a small smile even emerges. She knows she is safe. She can feel the love and the safety this family is offering. She has found a safe haven. She has found GOD’s angels.

*******************************************************************

Its the same story all over again. The faces are different, and details a bit changed—but the story is the same. A child removed from her home in the dead of night. Parents in jail for substance and/or physical abuse. A home broken. A child left floundering. A loving home welcoming them in.
This is the story of my parents’ life.
Mom and Dad are truly the salt of the earth. Raising seven of us kids, adopting a Chinese orphan, opening up their home to countless others—nieces and nephews, the homeless, four other orphans, and now countless wards of the state—foster children, their home is a haven of love.

I am so proud of them.
Below is an excerpt from a post that my mom made of Facebook the other day. Watch out though, you will fall in love with my parents as much as I love them…be warned.

*Mom speaking:
Dylan (my current foster son) forgot his back pack this morning, so I had to make an extra trip back to school to get it to him. While walking down the hall to his room, I met a row of children on the way to their room. Suddenly a little girl jumps out of the line and hugs me. Then another girl, another boy. I realize these are children I’ve taken care of in our home during a time of crisis in their homes. I return their hugs…then other children jump out of the line to hug me…and receive a hug. I tear up as I realize the hunger we all have to be loved. And so many of us never find that love…unless Abba has revealed His Son to us…and we have received Him…and His love!

I want to be like my parents—they are truly Angels and pure vessels of GOD!!!

The post Foster Parenting–How To Love A Child That Is Not Your Own appeared first on Pink Toolbelt.