As I fly over the clouds of Denver on our way home from a short trip to Salt Lake City, I can’t help but feel change in the air. When we step off the plane today, we’ll be completing the final steps of becoming foster parents.
This trip was a financial and tax planning trip turned short romantic getaway. We flew to Salt Lake City to see our CPA, Brad Shaw, who is getting us on the right track in terms of tax planning. We’ve had a lot of bad advice and unhelpful help up to this point, so we’re thrilled to finally find someone who knows about Scentsy and the way direct sales works.
After a three hour meeting with Brad and his son, Nate, both of our minds are at ease in terms of our tax preparation for the future. We finally have a plan in order, and you know how I love a plan!
As I sit on a plane with a seat between Brian and me, I feel as though this trip has been symbolic. Almost like a last hurrah before our world becomes different once again. On our first flight this morning, for just a moment I held a small baby who was not my own while a mom flying solo with her three kiddos got everyone situated.
I got a glimpse of what it must be like to hold a baby who isn’t mine. A baby who doesn’t know me. His tight black curls and jammies complete with the feet made me swoon over him. Those big, brown, round eyes captured my heart in an instant. And before I knew it, I was handing him back over to his momma. Onto a lap that he knew and loved.
Is that how it will feel? I know it will only take an instant for me to love a child that’s not mine. Right? Or will it take longer? Will I guard my heart? Or will I fall head over heels?
It hasn’t even happened yet but the anticipation of the pain and loss I know I will feel when I hand over a baby who I have loved and cared for for a period of time, could bring me to my knees on this plane.
Are you sure?
My heart can’t help but question Him. Are you sure this is what You want us to do?
I’m willing, and I will, but I can’t seem to ignore the eminent pain that will come from all of this.
But I know You have a plan, and I trust You.
I know there are people who think we’re crazy for agreeing to go on this journey. Lots of people say that they’re proud of us or that they think it’s great, but I know deep down they’re thinking, “Why would you do that?”
And honestly, I don’t know. The only thing I do know is that God has brought us to this place for a reason. He placed foster care on my heart and then decided to brand it there. He wouldn’t let me shake it.
Someone has to do it. Why not us?
Part of me has no desire to go through the pain and discomfort that being foster parents will bring. But there is a much bigger part of me that cannot ignore what God has asked us to do.
I know it’s going to hurt. I know that He knows it’s going to hurt us, but I also know that He has great things planned for us.
There will be something that will happen that will one day allow us to look back on this path we’ve paved into foster care and say, “Oh, now I know why we went through it all. Now I can see where He wanted to bring us.”
Will it be a mentorship between us and a child’s biological family? Will it be someone’s salvation? Will it be a child who will become part of our family?
I don’t know. And honestly I’m not hoping for anything in particular. I’m just trusting Him. Trusting that His plan is greater than mine, and His ways are always good and right.
As soon as we land, we head to the Social Security Office to get Brian’s Social Security card (yep, he lost it.....maybe I did....who knows?!). Then, we have one more document to pick up at the doctor’s office. Once we have all that, we will scan over the final documents to complete our home study and wait to see if we’re approved as foster parents.
And then what? The wait for the unexpected could just about drive me crazy, but I’m resting in His promises. He’s asked us to travel this road.
Brian’s asleep in the window seat, and I’m typing away on the aisle with a diet Coke and a water on the tray in between us. It feels like these last few minutes of quiet are symbolic. A short period of rest and restoration, yet when we step off this plane everything begins to move again. Life once again will be moving.
I don’t know what the coming days, weeks, or even months will hold for the Dalke family, but I pray that God continues to use us, challenge us, and move us as we walk together into the next adventure He has called us into.
Signing off with a smile full of hope and a heart weighted with the anticipation of what’s to come......Allison
.....day 95 of a year of writing.....