Hammer on Anvil '

Recently my husband, John, and I were called upon to provide respite care. It was our first opportunity since being licensed as foster parents in April, because I have had some health issues that would have prevented me from running after small children.

For those who are not familiar with respite care, it means providing care for children whose foster parents are temporarily unable to do so. In this case, the foster family had to go out of state for nine days to attend a funeral.

Three children, ages 5 and under, were our guests for those nine days. The youngest was still a baby, under two years of age. My biggest challenge was that at times she was inconsolable. She wailed and cried, and generally in those circumstances I am able to hold and comfort a child till they calm down. Not this child. She arched her back and pushed me away. It broke my heart because though comfort was there for the taking, she refused it.

At first I think my pride was a bit hurt. I reared three sons and am now the mother of three beautiful grandchildren, and I can't get a baby to stop crying? Have I lost my touch? John saw how distraught I was, and reminded me that it's not about us. My parenting skills were not in question.

I began to try to put myself in this little one's place. Though she was very young, she displayed definite attachment issues -- and it's no wonder. Already in foster care, suddenly she was dropped off at the home of total strangers. She had a blanket to call her own, but everything else in our house was totally unfamiliar to her. Why should she allow me to comfort her? Why should she trust me?

God used this situation to remind me that I am like this little girl. He is there all the time, and has promised to provide all that I need. Yet I have little tantrums and push Him away when He tries to draw me to himself. I have struggled with "attachment issues" with God because my relationship with my earthly parents was far from ideal. So how can I expect this precious little girl to attach to me in nine short days?

Yet she did attach. After a week or so, she was no longer content to simply be laid in her crib at night. She would squawk, and I would come in and rock her. Just a couple minutes was all she needed, and then she was ready for sleep. We had learned to communicate, and trust was established.

Are you like a little child who refuses to be comforted, or have you learned to trust in your heavenly Father? Even if your parents were abusive and/or toxic, you can learn to see God in a different light. He is not like earthly parents. He will never leave you nor forsake you. He truly is a Father to the fatherless (Psalm 68:5).