Day 100: Heavy With Hope

It's a momentous day in my blog. The 100th day this year that I have blogged. Considering I was going to do it every day and it was going to be a photo journal of my life, I'm not doing too well! But in the midst of my year, we fostered two kids and well . . . things went a little crazy.

It's been one week today since they left here. I wish I could say that we are doing better, that life is easier, less hectic, but that's not true. I wish I could say I don't really think about them as often, but that's also not true. It seems everything I do is a reminder of them in some way.

I had to go grocery shopping this week, and I felt the oddest sense of loss. Almost like I didn't know how to shop for just "us." I cried up and down a few aisles, but then gave myself a pep talk, finished my shopping, and finally got out to my car where I let myself have a good cry. . . over groceries!

I unloaded the dishwasher earlier this week and there were still sippy cups in the dishwasher, and plates and little toddler silverware from their last meal at our house. I didn't sob, but the tears slowly ran down my cheeks.

I washed clothes and found a little white headband and little white socks in the bottom of the hamper. . . The reminders of them are everywhere.

Mike and I were talking in our bedroom yesterday morning (truthfully just standing and holding each other, crying) and Mike said, "We just have to continue to trust God in all of this." (love that man) "He knows what's best for the girls and for us."

So, yesterday we started our official foster parenting classes. I cried buckets in that class. . . Mike did too (Man we sound like cry babies), as they shared story after story after story of children who were rescued, and of the ones who didn't make it out alive. At the end of the class, on our ride home, we talked about the next children that God will place in our home, and the next, and the next, and the next.

All that to say, it's been a week. Our hearts are heavy with hope.