The One Who Waits

It was one of the hardest aspects of the job. It had to be done, so I did it but I hated it. Every Wed. morning I would get to the office early, go in and grab a car seat, and head out to pick up a little 2 1/2 year old. He was always excited to see me. I would pick him up and transport him back to the office for a visit with his mom.

You see, I spent several years working in foster care. It's a high stress job with little pay. But most people do it because they believe that some of the most vulnerable in our society need protecting.

Supervising parent-child visits came with the territory. Hence, the early morning trek to pick up this little guy. On good days, we would arrive back at the office and I would watch him and his mom interact for two hours (awkward but necessary) and provide helpful direction (typically ill received) when needed.

But the bad days came more often than the good days. We would arrive back at the office and settle in the waiting room to wait for mom. More often than not, she didn't show. After 30 -40 minutes, I would help him back into his coat and return him -- sobbing -- back to the sitter. It always broke my heart. How could she not come? She only got 2 hours a week with her son.

The foster parents actually had to reroute to avoid driving by the office. As sure as he would see the building his hope of seeing his mom would rise and then plummet when they didn't stop. He would begin to wail.

I confronted the mom (and the many others like her) on missing the visits. She was flippant. He was little. What did he know? And then came the excuses: missed the bus, got up late, forgot, just couldn't make it and couldn't bother to call. With permission, I finally instituted a policy for her and other parents that routinely missed visits. If the visit was at 8:45 AM, she had to be there before I left to pick him up. It meant she spent half an hour waiting, but it spared that little boy the sheer disappointment he felt when she didn't appear.

I've been thinking a lot about those foster care days. When ever I have a recurring thought, I think it is God's way of reminding me of something. In this case, I am reminded of how eagerly God awaits our time with Him. He doesn't miss. There aren't any no shows on His end.

And when I miss, I think He has all the disappointment (maybe even more) of that little guy.

And I am convicted that though I know the importance of regular time with my heavenly Father, I take it too lightly. There is an errand to run or someone to call. I wake up late and have to rush to get out the door. I always promise -- tonight I'll make time. But then the evening comes . . . . It's so easy to over look it in the business of life.

Here is to a renewed commitment of daily time with Him. He's always waiting for me and you.





Recycled from March 2008 -- But I needed the reminder!

Separation From God vs. Yes To God

I am doing an on-line book study with some other women. It's been great. If you want to join or just read comments, click the button at left to go to Lelia's site. We are reading a book by Lysa Terkeurst called What Happens When Women Say Yes To God.

Here are my thoughts:

If you are a Christian you have had to say "Yes" to God at some point in your life -- "Yes, I am a sinner and yes, I need your salvation God." But saying "Yes" on a daily or even moment to moment basis is a difficult, even a monumental task. Given everything that God has given us, you might not think it would be so hard, but when I am honest, I have to admit that it is.

In chapter 4, "You Never Know How God Will Use You Until You Let Him," Lysa writes, "Only the pursuit of God's righteousness leads us to His best." God always wants the best for us. When we seek God -- pursue -- God's righteousness that leads us closer to God. But sometimes this can be a scary place.

Jesus went to the poor, the weeping, the sinners, the prostitutes. They aren't places that I normally want to go to. But God calls me to those places.

As I was reading, I was reminded of a woman I worked with whose two boys were in foster care and she was 8-9 months pregnant. I did fairly well with many of my clients even if I didn't agree with their choices. But this woman grated on every nerve I had.

We were not obligated to transport parents. In fact, it was common to expect them to make their own way to visits and appointments. For many of my clients this meant the bus. Even though our city isn't huge, getting from point A to point B could take and hour or more. They were dropped off down the road and then had to walk the rest of the way to our facility.

It was hot and sticky and after the visit, she had to walk back down the road and stand and wait for the next bus. She asked me if I would drop her down the street. It was not one of my better moments and I said, "No." I rationalized it as a natural consequence for her choices. I rationalized it that I didn't have extra insurance and I was using my own car and if something happened she would undoubtedly sue for every dime she could get. But really, it was just that I didn't like her.

I didn't like her. Ouch. That haunted me the next several days. The next week, I asked her if she wanted me to drop her at the end of the road. But God said, "That's not quite enough." Though it lengthened my day, I began to drive her across town and then transport the little ones to the foster parents' home.

I can't say that anything miraculous happened. I left the agency before the case closed. But, in saying "Yes" to God in those moments, I began to see her not simply as a client -- and one I didn't like -- but as someone who was made uniquely in God's image. If it were Jesus who needed a ride, would I hesitate? But then God reminded me that it was Jesus who needed the ride.

One of the things that struck me was Lysa's comment that Satan's name means "one who separates." Indeed that is what he does. He is constantly pulling and tugging and enticing us away from God and His best for us.

In church today, the altar is usually in plain sight. My church doesn't even necessarily have an altar per se. (We use a horse trough for baptism!) In Jesus' day, a curtain separated the altar from public view. When a priest would go in, they tied a rope around his foot in case something would happen and they would need to drag him out.

But when Jesus died on the cross, the temple curtain was torn. It is so specific that it says from top to bottom rather than bottom to top. We could not rip it up and reach up to God. So God, reached down and made the way.

Lysa writes, "The truth is the name of Jesus causes us to pause and redefine ourselves. The truth is that love compels us to embrace the calling to be Jesus' ambassador. The truth is freedom to soar above this life and learn to live beyond ourselves and our circumstances." I sense the dangerousness of it, but "Lord, make me pause in that redefining way. Lord, help me choose to embrace your calling on my life and to say 'Yes' every moment."

It's easy to say and harder to walk out. There are some situations right now that aren't very pretty in my life. I won't air them here, but please pray that I would say "Yes" in a moment to moment way and that I would choose that over separation from others and, most importantly, separation from God."

One last thought from Lysa that touched my heart:

With God's amazing love settled in our heart, we have His power to keep our faith steady and to experience lasting hope and joy independent of our situation.

It's true -- God wants it all. and it's in exchange of what we want for what God wants that we experience the adventure and freedom and power of saying yes to God.

I want that. Do you?

The One Who Waits

It was one of the hardest aspects of the job. It had to be done, so I did it but I hated it. Every Wed. morning I would get to the office early, go in and grab a car seat, and head out to pick up a little 2 1/2 year old. He was always excited to see me. I would pick him up and transport him back to the office for a visit with his mom.

You see, I spent several years working in foster care. It's a high stress job with little pay. But most people do it because they believe that some of the most vulnerable in our society need protecting.

Supervising parent-child visits came with the territory. Hence, the early morning trek to pick up this little guy. On good days, we would arrive back at the office and I would watch him and his mom interact for two hours (awkward but necessary) and provide helpful direction (typically ill received) when needed.

But the bad days came more often than the good days. We would arrive back at the office and settle in the waiting room to wait for mom. More often than not, she didn't show. After 30 -40 minutes, I would help him back into his coat and return him -- sobbing -- back to the sitter. It always broke my heart. How could she not come? She only got 2 hours a week with her son.

The foster parents actually had to reroute to avoid driving by the office. As sure as he would see the building his hope of seeing his mom would rise and then plummet when they didn't stop. He would begin to wail.

I confronted the mom (and the many others like her) on missing the visits. She was flippant. He was little. What did he know? And then came the excuses: missed the bus, got up late, forgot, just couldn't make it and couldn't bother to call. With permission, I finally instituted a policy for her and other parents that routinely missed visits. If the visit was at 8:45 AM, she had to be there before I left to pick him up. It meant she spent half an hour waiting, but it spared that little boy the sheer disappointment he felt when she didn't appear.

I've been thinking a lot about those foster care days. When ever I have a recurring thought, I think it is God's way of reminding me of something. In this case, I am reminded of how eagerly God awaits our time with Him. He doesn't miss. There aren't any no shows on His end.

And when I miss, I think He has all the disappointment (maybe even more) of that little guy.

And I am convicted that though I know the importance of regular time with my heavenly Father, I take it too lightly. There is an errand to run or someone to call. I wake up late and have to rush to get out the door. I always promise -- tonight I'll make time. But then the evening comes . . . . It's so easy to over look it in the business of life.

Here is to a renewed commitment of daily time with Him. He's always waiting for me and you.