On December 2, they delivered it to our house: the paper that makes it official. For a period of one year, Ryan and Shari Zook have been approved as foster parents.
I can hardly believe it. Two months of scurrying activity—training, paperwork, fingerprints, paperwork, background checks, paperwork, home inspections, paperwork—fire extinguishers mounted, smoke alarms functional, cleaning supplies out of reach, well water okayed, No Smoking sign posted—and now the lull of waiting.
We thought it would be harder to get approved. We expected a snag or two along the way, that they’d raise their eyebrows at our unrenovated rooms or find lethal bacteria in our well or—something? But it was seamless. Check. Check. Check. And we prayed Jesus, let it be. Guide us. We will keep taking the next step unless you send us a roadblock.
Today we got our first call. Would you take a baby? AND her teenage mother?
I’m so sorry, we cannot.
I hate saying no to any opportunity and especially when it feels like I might be turning Jesus away from my door in the form of a needy child. But we are trying to think of our current children. Trying to gauge our margin of energy. Trying to be realistic about what He is calling us to at this time: foster parenting, I think, not foster grand-parenting…
I sure wanted to help. I sure wanted to hold that baby.