There have been days this past year and a half that I have wondered if we made the right decision to do foster care while our own kids were still in the house.  We did think about waiting, but at the time our youngest was three, and I thought by the time she was grown and gone, I just would not have the energy to do it.  So, since it was something that was definitely on our heart and we wanted to grow our family, we went forward.  But like I've said, there have been days. 

There were the days my 10 year old was stretched beyond, I mean way beyond, her capacity to deal with other people, much less annoying, damaged, whiny 7 year olds, and I had to pay the price....

There were days I didn't think I could drag my 36 year old body out of bed to give 3 night feedings to a brand new baby I only had 4 days to adjust to the IDEA of...

There were days my own four year old had to cry for me as I ministered to a very damaged 3 year old little boy...

There was a day that I cleaned purple nail polish off of one week old carpet because a 7 year old didn't listen when I said not to do that on the carpet...

There have been days - well actually it was the same nail polish day - that a dvd player broke because said 7 year old didn't listen again...

There have been days I have cleaned up poopy toilet paper off the floor(many, many days) because someone refuses to put it in the toilet; spent a week in the hospital with a baby we weren't sure had seizure disorder or not; held a little girl for hour long tantrums; dealt with my own children's manifesting emotions over the intruders; watched my kids be rude to each other and hurting orphans; wanted to claw my way out of a car on the freeway because of all the noise; cleaned up throw-up in the way back of the car on a hot summer day in a very cramped car on a family vacation; cleaned up throw-up God knows how many days in a row a week or two in December; swaddled and rocked a 60 pound 7 year old to sleep numerous nights; swaddled and rocked an 80 pound 7 year old to sleep (different child); cleaned up throw-up again in winter, and again in spring; pried a 6 year old little guy off my leg so he could go back home to his former foster mom, and cried all the way home myself; waved good-bye to a 3 year old I had poured my heart and soul into, as he left with his new family, and held my four year old as she cried and missed him....yes, there have been many days when I've wondered, "what are we doing?  did we make a good choice?  what was God thinking?  WHY are we doing this?"   

THEN there are the days when I see, God has a plan.  There are the days when I see that it's all worth it.  There are days when an emotionally damaged, angry 3 year old belly-laughs; there are days when the 2nd graders inquire about God and are awed by Him, want to know Him more; there are days when my school room gets completely, spotlessly clean by 2 second-grade cuties as a mother's day present to me.  There are days when I receive love notes saying I'm the best mom in the world.  There are days when they first ask to call me "mom" and my heart swells with emotion.  There are days when my own children reach out and embrace, accept, minister, love, and give selflessly to those who have "invaded" their lives. 

TODAY was one of those days.  Ally has been planning a garden and we bought all the stuff for her to plant.  It's small and there's not that much stuff, so you can imagine how pleased I was when I heard her ask all the little girls if they would like to help her plant.  She was sharing something that meant an awful lot to her.  Moments like that are so fun to watch.  It was great!