It started years ago. When I was young, I would devour stories of foreign missionaries. One of my favorites was Amy Carmichael. I used to dream of one day rescuing kiddos and adopting them as my own.
Then I grew up. Career, married, kids. The foreign thing isn't happening, and the more I learn about it the less I want to adopt from another country. But I hold out hope for fostering someday. It's always been a part of my life plan. I just need to convince DH to get on board 😉
Last Saturday, I was just hanging out at home with DH. The thoughts and noise in my head reached a crescendo and broke.
Silence.
And then, a still, small voice. "What if you fostered LGBT kids, specifically? What if you sought them out - on purpose - to show them unconditional love?"
I brushed it off. This definitely wasn't the time to bring it up to DH. We were exhausted from the crazy week, and both went to sleep shortly after.
But the thought never left my mind. It's stayed there, nagging at me. If I really want LGBT equality in society and in the church, why NOT step up to the plate, so to speak.
And then tonight, on my way home from work, I heard this. And I cried all the way home.
Where we go from here, I am not sure. But what I do know is this - I cannot ignore where my heart is leading.
