'Brave' · 'Honeybee' · Foster Care · Hope

Day Forty-Seven: Back, Bags, Brave

Honeybee and Brave were tentatively long term last time then weren’t. They’re back and asleep at 10:27pm… and I have no words yet.


Ok. I’ve packed the daycare bag for Honeybee, completed Brave’s school registration forms, and  started the laundry and shopping list, all the while praying haphazard prayers. It’s 11:45ish and now I have words.

Back. They’ve been here before and remember where they can find things they want and need. My mind is blown by the magnitude of comfort this brings. No accidents for Honeybee today, for example. You guys, that’s a serious win.

Bags. That some of their things came in a torn trash bag struck me. Ya hear the cliche, but to see it happen? There is an incredible team of people rallying for the best for these kids and their family, an army at the ready, and SO MUCH LOVE. But these days are days of brokenness still and we all need all of the grace.

Brave. Ok, so his name starts with N not B, but Honeybee calls him Brody (her best attempt at “brother).” And brother he is. A good one at that. He loves her strong and well. When she’s overwhelmed, tired, scared or mad, he calms her and makes her laugh. When he’s overwhelmed, tired, scared or mad, he says so plainly. He says so a lot and we talk about what those things mean (he mostly talks, I mostly listen); then he carries on. He’s my Brave. The very definition.

The same God who knows, ever so intimately, every way I’ll fall short of being what His children need has promised to give wisdom liberally when I ask. He works in such a way as to perfect my efforts (riddled with weaknesses) with His strength (He never fails).

And so, dear ones, acquaintances and strangers, we covet your prayers for the days to come.


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