I like you, even when I don't try to

There's no need to complicate it
Dress it up or state it
Without too much hesitation
Here's the way I feel

I like you, I like you
Even when I don't try to
Yes I do, that's the truth 
I like you

The words from Ben Rector's song I Like You, run through my head nearly everyday as I hold Baby A. I sing them to him every night when I lie him down for bed. And even though I like him (and even love him), I'm very clearly pulling away from him.

It sounds horrible. I know.

But the best way I know how to describe it is fear, and for whatever reason, it feels good to write it here.....to process it and try to make sense of it.

Foster care is hard. It's beautiful and messy and exactly what Christ would have the church do, but there isn't anything easy about it. The love part is the hardest for me.

I go in and out of being head over heels for this baby, and purposefully distancing myself from his little, helpless love and those big brown eyes. I see the way he looks at me. I know how he feels about me. He can't help it. We've had him and loved him for half of his little life.

But I don't do well with uncertain endings. It's not a normal process of parenting. I feel like I should love him like I love my babies, but he's not mine, and he may never be mine. So how am I supposed to love him like he is mine?

I know my pulling away from him is selfish. It's a shame-filled attempt at guarding my heart.

Last night, I tossed and turned in bed, praying for something less selfish to come from my heart, praying that I would be better at this foster parenting thing tomorrow.

I find myself so often doing this in life....praying for something different....praying for a different outcome. I recently heard Christine Caine say something along the lines of "Nothing is going to change, so make it work the way it is."

I have to tell myself that everyday. Nothing is changing. He's here. These are the circumstances. No, you're not the best at this. But make it work. Love him anyways.

I know that what seems impossible to me, isn't impossible to God. I can't keep getting tripped up on my own understanding of the situation.

We prayed for this baby. We believe that the Lord prepared us for him....to love him and serve him and give him his every desire and need right now, just the way things are.

I can't try to write the end of his story. God has the honor of doing that. And from our last foster care case, I have to remember that His story, the one he'll write for this little baby and his brother, is such a greater story than I could ever write or ever even imagine.

These boys are the Lord's first and foremost, and they deserve the best and deepest kind of love. They don't deserve the kind of love that holds back. I know that, so tomorrow, I'll do a little better, forgetting about my own selfish desires to not be hurt and love him the way he loves me.

I know he has me wrapped up in his love. He does. His smile and his eyes, and the way he looks at me say more than words could ever say. Now I have to re-pay his love with mine. It's the way Christ loves me....never knowing when I'll walk away from His love.....hoping I won't, but loving me relentlessly anyways. What a beautiful gift that kind of love is.