This blog post was originally published on Annery at Home in September 2010
We are in the process of becoming a foster family. So far, it seems like our steps towards the license have been full of little stumbling blocks. In order to become a foster parent, you must be fingerprinted, background-checked, etc. Fingerprinting usually takes about 15 minutes. When I arrived, the technician told me that the agency hadn't filled out the section they were supposed to and they couldn't process it without this.
Fingerprinting is only done twice a month, and I'm out of town for the next time they do it this month, so it needed to be that day or next month, putting everything back a month. So, I called the agency, left a message and waited in line for the return call. Remember that 15 minutes it was supposed to take? I got my phone call 40 minutes after I left the message and was still nowhere near the front of the line.
Apparently, I had been given an older form because there was great confusion over why I needed this number, was told I just wasn't looking at the form right, etc. After convincing the agency of my need for this information, I was able to fill in my form, then I waited. Over an hour later, I got in.
During this time, I kept questioning. Is this a sign? Are we not supposed to do this? Is this some divine test of whether or not I have the patience to be a foster parent? Why is every step so difficult? Where has the wonderful, this is what we should be doing feeling gone? Where is my certainty that this is our calling?
As a natural worrier, it's hard to turn that instinct off and over to God. Discernment and letting go are the twin pillars I struggle to carry. Never is this more clear than at times of transition in our family. With moving into foster parenting, we are opening a chapter in which we will have very little control over many things in our family life and home. Strangers will need a humbling level of access to how we live, how we parent and who we are.
I have a great need to look forward and plan everything out for decades. Putting the lists down and being present is hard. Knowing which step to take next when life is more uncertain than ever is excruciating.
Sometimes one question for me becomes an unraveling of fabric, shouldn't I just go back to work? Why do I have a master's degree and not use it? Is our daughter getting as much out of life at home as she could be at school? Will we have more children someday? The questions are difficult. That's the point.
This is what walking by faith means. It's easy to walk on with good feelings and happy thoughts, but when doubt and anxiety creep in, how do you walk then? That's the real test. I cannot walk by sight. I learn that a little more each day. I fumble and stumble, but have come out better for it.