This morning we are in Court downtown for the first time with our boys. It’s honestly going to be a routine placement review where you just say everything is going fine and they send you on, basically a legal high five.
We have so many memories from the ugly court moments with our previous placement with our foster daughter, that ultimately lead us to this road. We just recently got a picture of her from her Great Aunt. She’s almost three, super tall, and has that same mischievous grin. She’s perfect.
Even though our walk today is normal and routine I look around the courtroom and the hallways and see parents, kids, workers all in that desperate place. They are living in that place that we knew and maybe have let ourselves become too distanced from. It’s that place that reminds you what you are doing by adopting. It’s that place that reminds you that without what we are doing in our boys lives they would be here, bouncing from place to place in limbo.
That’s the place I forget when it’s a normal morning and the kids are fighting over the same stuffed animal, or they don’t want the waffles I just made. I forget when we are all just riding down the street listening to “Bad” by Michael Jackson for the 100th time in a row or the yell of “I love you Dad!” as I walk out the door echoes through our cul de sac.
The whole reasoning of our calling becomes just another day. So as hard as it is to be here on our “routine” court visit, I’m reminded of how this piece of our life is a picture of the gospel. I’m reminded of how God knits lives together and today…I’m thankful.