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Pining for Paris

We started our foster journey in 2006, with our first orientation meeting. Through many ridiculous rejections and obstacles, we didn’t actually get licensed until 2012. It was frustrating, but a few months into receiving our first placement, we found out about distant relatives who were also in foster care. Had we started fostering in 2006, we likely would not have taken them in, but since we had just started and we had room, we welcomed two more little girls into our home. Our first foster child left our home, leaving a permanent memory. A few months later, we welcomed the sisters’ brother into our home. They stayed for a few more months, and then reunited with their family.

After this physical and emotional first year, we decided to take a small break. In October 2013, after a few months had passed, and after hearing about kids waiting in the CPS offices, we went back on the list. We had a few calls for kids, which ended up in other homes. One night, I became overwhelmed with the desire to go back to a location I had fallen in love with. I started looking at my husband’s and kids’ schedules for time-off and I began to semi-plan for a trip for the spring. The desire I felt was so overwhelming that I thought I was pining. Since it was a word I rarely use, I remember looking it up online to confirm the feelings I was having:

languishing, suffering a mental and physical decline for, a longing for

This was what I was feeling, and I posted on Facebook, that I was “Pining for Paris.” Within twenty-four hours, I received a call from CPS for a three-year-old girl . . . named Paris.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, can you repeat her name? Paris?”

I said yes and waited. Since we had a few calls which didn’t go through, I was still a little surprised when the little girl showed up in our home.

Through many, many trials and a long wait, we are now at the point of welcoming her into our family forever through adoption. Even though she has been with us for over two years, even up until a few weeks ago, because of how hard this process has been, I didn’t think adoption would happen. It has helped me more than once to remember that even before I knew her, I was pining for her. That God placed that deep longing and desire in me, even when I didn’t know what the correct term for the feeling I had was. Rather than chase a feeling though, I remember this small miracle, and it provides hope.

All People. All of Jesus.
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