So Little to Give

When I started this whole process to foster and to hopefully adopt I was feeling like I was so blessed.  I knew I had a lot in my tank to give some child or children if the Lord would just bring them through my door.

In some ways I am finding how empty my tank really was.  Being selfless, truly selfless, is very hard.  I can easily imagine laying down my life for any of the children in my home.  The hard part is being there and being selfless every single day.

As I am sure you already know, I am not selfless every single day.  It is more like an hour here and a couple hours there.  I am tempted daily to lay this calling down, and to leave it to another who is far more qualified than myself.  Many times I find myself begrudgingly scraping something off the bottom of my nearly empty tank.  I had so little to give.  I did not really know until the time of need arrived how woefully inadequate my own resources were.

The true miracle of fostering and adoption is that I can not look at myself with rose colored glasses anymore.  I see me.  I am selfish, I am demanding, I am angry, I am proud.  Some of you that know me may be thinking I am wrong.  There are things about me that I like, but it is so easy to focus on those because then I don't have to feel guilty and then I don't need to worry about change.  These children are a wonderful mirror, and I don't like what is looking back at me.

The good parts?  God is giving me true relationships with people who have had to get just as real about themselves as I have.  I am learning that the love of God has nothing to do with my performance.  I want to walk this road out even though its hard and even though it might be easier to say, "I quit."  I want to see who God is trying to make me into.  I want to run the race set before me.  This part seems to have a lot of hurdles. My legs are tired, and I keep falling down a lot, but I want to run this race. 

I am so tired of asking God to change me.  I am so tired of feeling changed and then feeling like it was an illusion.  The old me seems to lurk, waiting for fatigue and schedules to clash or waiting for those perfect storm moments when EVERYONE needs me.  Still, I am begging him.  My heart sings the song I have loved since childhood.

Change my heart oh God 

Make it ever true 

Change my heart oh God 

May I be like You 

You are the potter 

I am the clay 

Mold me and make me 

This is what I pray 

Change my heart oh God 

Make it ever true 

Change my heart oh God 

May I be like You