Fostering: The Waiting

I’ve taken to watching the sky this winter. Waiting for the pink promise of a new day to make it’s way up over our neighbor’s house and through the panes of ours.

It’s a promise, when the long days of winter wear on my mind and leave me feeling anxious.

We are in the waiting.

Waiting for God to show us what’s next. Waiting for a child who may need our home to be theirs for a day, a week, a lifetime. Waiting for desire’s flame to simmer down so we can be faithful with what is before us today, in this season, as we hope for the next.

The wait has always been the hardest for me, my limbs always a bit to anxious to jump into movement, my heart always quickening to need, whether it is my time to meet it or not.

And so I know this wait is for me, for my eager spirit and quickstepping feet. I know it is here to bridle my heart to His. To pace my days on His continuum… steady, unhurried, patient, true.

And so I beckon the morning sun to quiet the doubts. I rail against them with the truth that nothing is wasted.

Prayers for direction.

Black ink on county forms.

Hours spent in air-conditioned rooms, fulfilling fit-parent requirements.

Middle of the night runaway thoughts that quicken my pulse.

Nothing is wasted.

Because we are following the Redeemer.

This is His story, and He does not put to shame. He takes little and makes much, uses doubt to build trust. Holds our questions and gives better answers. Loves us, through and through.

We are in good hands, as we wait.

“I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.” Psalm 130:5-6