Monday, 25 November 2013

Never Enough

Foster care in a word is:
Now that doesn't say a lot does it?
I mean I could say that about a great many things couldn't I?
Working a job you don't really like.
Having a friend you don't really like.
This list is long and could go on.
And there are these things in our lives that, perhaps, rib us a little more in the area of that great, smallish word:
And as we walk this trodden path through foster care,
I am constantly,
and completely,
being humbled.
And it's hard.
And messy.
And sort of like nothing I've ever experienced before in my life.
And as I put my three year old to bed and he says,
"hug n kiss mommy"
I think what we mothers of children think often,
"I am a terrible mother."
Because do you know how many people have asked how in the world we can give
our own children the attention they deserve with
three more children in the house?
And sometimes I don't have an answer.
Because here is the truth sisters:
How ever much we give and give, it will never be enough.
We will never be enough.
We can never give enough attention.
We can never kiss enough boo-boos.
We can never hug enough.
We can never give enough good night kisses.
We cannot fill what we were not meant to fill.
And you know what?
I used to think that I could.
I used to think that I could fill all the empty places...
give enough attention...
tend to every need...
every care...
every want,
desire even.
Really, I did.
And maybe that sounds a little silly to you.
But there is something inside of all of us that cries out desperately for
More attention.
More affection.
More care.
More concern.
We. Want. More.
You would think that if we were filled we wouldn't long for more.
But we do.
I know I do.
And last night as the tears rolled off the tip of my nose,
I was reminded of this magnificent truth.
Of course I will never be enough.
Not to 4 children.
Not to 7 children.
Of course I can't fill them up always.
That is not what I was designed to do.
There is only One who is able to do that.
Only One.
And I am not He.
I am merely here to point them to Him.
To Jesus.
The One who can give enough attention,
love, and concern.
And if I was enough?
What would they need him for?
So tonight.
The kids pile on up.
We sing In Christ Alone.
Read the Storybook Bible.
And sing 10,000 Reasons for good measure.
And one boy asks to sing them all again.
And I smile and wink
 at the quiet, handsome boy in the papasan chair.
He smiles back.
He knows He is loved.
And I don't have to be enough.
Because Jesus always will be.