1. You'll feel like you are fumbling around in the dark. You are.
2. You are used to having to tell your foster child that a visit has been cancelled, and then try to console him or her through the ensuing wails.
3. No matter how much you care, his or her future is not in your hands.
4. You're actually grateful for that; determining a little one's fate is not a job you'd want.
5. You've been cussed at by preteens who tell you they're going to destroy everything "in your f*cking house" <---- direct quote. You've also been looked at adoringly by teenagers as a mother figure. This is weird to you, because you still feel 18. At least you can dance to Fun! And give the teenagers their own theme songs to remember you by.
"When you're lost and alone/and you're sinking like a stone/carry on
When the past is the sound of your footsteps on the ground /carry on"
6. Sometimes they brag to their friends about you.
7. With each placement, you're sort of less sure what you're doing than ever before.
8. The serenity prayer is something you live. Especially the
"Accept the things I can't change."
Isn't that every day of life, though?
9. You're sometimes happy when your foster child is obviously, to onlookers, not your biological child. Then, when they are throwing Frito lays on the conveyor belt at target and running into the stock room! you can shrug and say, "I'm just the babysitter!"
10. Your husband thinks you're crazy
11. You are.
12. You're quite proficient at using websites like this one:
13. You will never forget that time you sat up all night with a two year old watching the same episode of Sponge Bob over and over again until he fell asleep in your arms. His grief was so great and your arms felt so small.
14. When a child leaves your home, you jump for the phone every time it rings.
After all, any heart that's been touched by kindness, for no matter how short a time, is a heart that's felt hope.
A heart that can withstand the hard days because its owner was a 6 day old baby a long time ago, sleeping in my arms in church while I sobbed for all that his mother was missing.
And all the ways My heart stretches around itself, into infinity, because a child allowed me to be his world for just a little, bitty while.