Five years ago, we said yes to a foster placement of two little boys, ages 2 and 1. We weren’t really “open” for foster care, our hearts were still incredibly broken from saying goodbye to the 13 month old we’d raised from infancy. We were still figuring out how to make it through each day. But they needed a place, and there were no open foster homes, and the roads were too bad to drive to another county, so we said yes.

They were so cute. (They are always SO cute.) They were huge, for 1 and 2 years old, off the charts, landed me in the chiropractors office crying with back pain. They bit or hit someone every 2 minutes. They needed constant supervision and redirection and they could tear through the house like a tornado in a matter of minutes and they could not just sit and play, they could only ping pong around to the other kids at home messing with whatever they were doing. They were the hardest kids I think we have ever cared for. And yet, each day we were growing to the love them. The social worker took her time finding them another home, and by the time she did we said we wanted them to stay (remind me to thank her for that someday). I expected them to go back to live with their birth mother. We did everything we could to help that be successful. And after almost a year, when it was almost time to say goodbye, Xavier, the baby we had said the goodbye to, came back.

So often we have been invited to the sacred heart of Jesus, where he experiences profound joy and love and profound grief and loss all at the same time. We have been adopting one child while losing another. And here we were again, although this time, hoping the two boys were going to a better situation. We continued being their family for the next two years. We hosted birthday parties, they stayed with us on weekends, and we watched them when their baby brother was born. In the mean time, we said yes to another sweet little girl who quickly stole our hearts. And then a few months later, the boys needed foster care again and the call came, would we be willing to be their foster home again along with their baby brother?

Do you think you can do this again Ann? My licensor asked me that day. Do you think you could raise another baby for a year and say goodbye? Do you want to enter into that heartbreak? Yeah…see I already asked myself the same question. The problem is, I’m already invested. I already love these two boys as my own family, I already care too much about what happens to them whether they live with me or not. It’s too late to say no to heartbreak because my hearts already broken open.

So she approved our variance so we could have 9 children in our 4 bedroom home, and within the hour the social worker came through the door with a very chunky 3 month old Dan nicknamed Marvin. Maynard, who had already been spending the night at our house, and Roy slipped right back into the family having spent a lot of their life with us already. We had one month with 9 kids, and then said goodbye to sweet girl who still also holds our hearts.

As you can see, Marvin was quite loved instantly. And then, the next two years, were a series of court dates, communicating with their birth parents, trying to trust God with their future and navigating their complex behaviors from the trauma they’ve experienced. Marvin did not sleep and ate too much. He was the most difficult baby I have ever cared for, affected by drugs, he didn’t sleep normally for many months. A 20 minute nap was a long one for him, and he was up often in the night and was a “walk around baby”, growing huge like his brothers combined with refusing to rock or sit to fall alseep but needing to be walked around the house for a long time made for some great muscle development for me and some very long nights.

Shortly after the boys came, we watched a lot of the Sing 2 movie, it was Maynards favorite and he loved to sing “Sky Full of Stars” so sweetly. It was often stuck in my head as I paced the house trying to get Marvin to fall asleep and trying not to worry about his future and the way I had no control over it. Thinking about how saying goodbye to him or his brothers would wreck me. And I would pray those words as I was snuggling Marvin close, or watching Maynard sweetly sing it, or playing a game with Roy’s eyes sparkling, and I knew they were holding my heart in their hands, I had given it away so long ago.

I don’t think the authors probably intended to, but it speaks a truth of why we keep saying yes, why we keep letting other people hold our hearts in their hands, when we know they will tear them to pieces. Because they were the hardest children I’ve ever cared for, and they are also incredible. Their smiles light up the room. They are so smart and talented and kind and sweet. They can make me laugh and melt my heart with a hug or I love you. They can make me absolutely crazy with their behaviors and I still miss them when they’re sleeping. And Marvins smile and giggle, the way he has a unique relationship with each one of our kids, the way he holds tight around your neck or lays his head on your shoulder. It’s all an incredible blessing. Its all worth it. But most of all, it’s all a reflection of God. It’s Him showing me a little bit more of Himself. It’s Him being present with me, showing up every day. I go seeking him, He is there, in the church , in the sacraments, in my friends and family, yes. But He is here most of all. Right in my house, He came as a baby, once again, and I could have said I didn’t have room. It would have been true. I could have said, we are too busy, stretched too thin, that was true too. But I would have missed it, this great blessing He was wanting to give me. This sky full of stars. I would have missed finding God right here in my own house. And it’s not lost on me every time I look at Marvin, that He is the reason we had to say goodbye to our 13 month old and he had to have that hard year. If that hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t know any of these three boys. God designed them for our family, and He worked in all these bad things to make something so good. I couldn’t see it back then, but I can certainly see it now.

After 5 years, the court date for adoption was very long awaited and felt in some ways like crossing the finish line of a marathon. But in truth I know, this is just the beginning. Parenting these boys and loving them well will probably be the hardest thing I ever undertake. Our oldest is becoming a teenager and I’m certain all these sparkling stars are going to wreck me during their teenage years. I can only say, “I don’t care, go on and tear me apart.” Because you are a sky full of stars, and loving you I can see God more clearly than I ever have.