First Placement
In February 2025, my whole world changed when I got a call asking if we had room in our lives for a 1-month-old baby boy who needed a new home immediately—likely long-term. But how long was (and still is) a mystery. We had just received our certification to become foster parents earlier that week. My husband was lying sick in bed when I walked in with a social worker on speaker and asked if he was ready to become a father today. “Before you answer,” I said, “Ask the Lord whether we are the home he intends for this child—not whether today feels like our ideal timing.” There’s never an ideal moment to welcome an infant. You just make room. So we did.
They dropped him off at 5 PM that evening with a few sleepers, a few diapers, and almost enough formula to make it through the night. He looked different from the generic baby I’d drawn up in my mind. I have no idea what I had been expecting, but here he was before me, a whole person, utterly dependent on us, looking very much like himself.
Holding him that evening, I think we felt something most first-time parents feel when they leave the hospital with a new baby. The extremely vulnerable feeling of suddenly being fully responsible for an entire life, utterly dependent on you for survival. So tiny, yet weightier than anything you’ve ever carried.
We tried to think of everything we’d need to get through that first night, and our community scrambled to collect it and bring it. Soap for his bath that night, an infant car seat, a wrap, swaddles, more of his formula, clothing… Our community was quick and generous.
Given the trials of his first few weeks of life, we anticipated all of the struggles that could arise from his prior life experiences. From inability to sleep, to difficulty connecting, to medical issues, we expected to experience some of his trauma in whatever way it manifested. The peace I’d been cultivating with the Lord over the past five years of infertility was about to come into full effect as I met his trauma with what had become in me an unshakable peace. I don’t know if he felt that peace, but he was, and 17 months later remains, as utterly calm and at rest as any child could be—and even more so.
Right by my side in his bassinet, he slept in 4-hour stretches the whole first night. We spent most of the next day just gazing at one another, learning each other’s faces and voices.
My daily scripture reading that first morning happened to be Jesus saying, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” (Mark 9:37, ESV)
The creator of the universe had stepped into our home in a new way, and I felt surrounded by Him in a way I never had before. In and around me, as always. But now also, completely surrendered to me in my arms. There to receive back the very love and care he’d been pouring into me. As I looked down at this innocent babe, the Father was looking back at me, saying, I feel your love, personally.
Holding this child in my arms, wondering what the future would hold, I felt the love of God all around me. As I gazed down at him, I kept speaking over him. “You are the Father’s whole heart. Wherever you go, no part of him is held back from you. Anywhere you go, He will know all of your pain, and all of your joy. He’s fully with you, forever, whether I get to be or not.”
