Dear Foster Boys,

It’s hard to believe that you are four and five now, both of you have birthdays coming up and will (even more unbelievably) be five and six in no time at all. Five and six! How can that be? Time moves so fast, boys. So very fast.

This is the year you’re old enough to start kindergarten, Little Buddy. Backpacks and pencils and boxes of sharp crayons; the waxy smell of a Crayola rainbow will always remind me of the month of September. I wish I were there to encourage you, to hold your hand and walk you to your classroom, get to know your teacher. New things are always hard, and you’ve had so many new things in your life. It’s going to take courage to walk into that classroom, maybe more so than for most. I know you’ll be brave, child. You’ve always had to be.

And little Sidekick, you’ll have to watch your brother go off without you. I’m sure you’ll miss him, too. You two have had each other, and very little else where consistency is concerned. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s hard to keep the two of you apart.

It’s painful to imagine where you have been, and what you’ve been through. It’s hard to bear the thought of the losses you’ve suffered in your short lives, and the upheaval, and the fear. It’s hard to make peace with this, with the real suffering of innocent children and the unjust nature of this broken world we’re living in.

I just have this to cling to: Your story isn’t over yet. There’s a good God who knows you, loves you perfectly, and cares deeply for you. He weeps over each scar, each tear you’ve shed. There are people here, on this broken earth, who love you very much as well. Broken people, yes…we all are. But God has a way of working around the broken, and making it beautiful. He has a way of redeeming things, you know.

My prayer for you, sweet boys, is for God’s redemption. For you, for your mother, for all the ones who love you. My prayer for you is safety, security, and lasting peace. For love and grace that won’t give up, give in, or give out. For you to find that in the daily embrace of God the Father, and comfort even in the broken here and now.

So much love,

Me