Transparency is a funny thing. We expect it from others yet peddle fast away from daring to expose ourselves this way. Maybe its because the moment we are transparent we are instantly vulnerable leading to possibly being wounded by others. If we are wounded then we face the choice of how to deal with those wounds along with the ones who wounded us. That brings about a whole other dilemma - reconciliation and forgiveness. So now we have our list:
transparency
expectations
vulnerability
wounds
reconciliation
forgiveness
So if we just run back up to the top of the list and scratch the transparency we are good right? Nope! We still have the issue of our desire for others to do so. Back to the top? Yes! Well that is if we truly desire authentic relationships and genuine love. Ahhh, love, that might be what the list is missing. Let's see if  we place love in between each word how would that change our outlook on this?
transparency
LOVE
expectations
LOVE
vulnerability
LOVE
wounds
LOVE
reconciliation
LOVE
forgiveness
LOVE.
Wow, that is much easier on the eyes. Now can we implement this, can we take hold of, and be the people we expect others to be?

I was, past tense and painfully so, a closet love-er. That can only mean that this is officially my "coming out" announcement. That is not meant to be taken lightly or said in jest. Quite the contrary in fact. Unwritten rules are everywhere in every walk of life and as an evangelical Christian, conservative, and saver of all sinners there are a couple of groups of folks that are to be kept at a distance. That is unless of course we can 'fix' them in turn saving them, making us heroes.
We love as Christ unless or until we face the ones that won't change, won't conform. What then are we to do? We speak of our willingness to be martyred for God yet are unwilling to be socially cast out of our circle of comfort.
Who are those I am speaking of? Those we keep much distance from yet never forget to pray for their deliverance in our bible studies and prayer groups?
Homosexuals and Muslims. They are to blame for my coming out and my being cast out. Let me reword that just for fun. My friends are to be credited for the eye opening, unconditional love I will never fear to show.
I have been cast out, unfriended, and now am on the 'pray for her' list by many. I suppose this was one way to sift and get prayed for.
I have been asked "why I feel the need to come out with this?" by several. I guess a another question that begs being asked is "why did it take you so long to speak up?" There is freedom to be had in being transparent, in being unashamedly loving of all. To be clear I have never been a quiet person that held my tongue however with each passing day I see my friends ridiculed, judged, condemned, and too often this is done in the name of Christ. It makes my stomach turn. I can and will love out loud all those who are in my life - not just a a select few. I am not the Judge but I will strive to love like Him.

 Our quaint little home containing our family of four abruptly changed that day. We were young and green completely ready to save the world.
The call for placement of a large sibling set came with urgency. 12 eyes looked into ours with hope and fear battling for first place in their little hearts. They couldn't have been more adorable! Surely my mothers love could "save" them - right? Their stories each resembling the others yet holding mountain sized differences in emotional effects. We were in instant love with these little treasures.
 Becoming quickly comfortable we entered in to our pseudo-normal temporary life. With all my magical mom powers I made a sensible monster sized breakfast of oatmeal their first morning. Well they did like me. You should have seen their faces as they tried so hard to eat the mess of paste I proudly put before them. Finally breaking the silence at the table one says "please, we were put in foster care to keep us safe, not to kill us". We laughed so hard we about fell off our chairs. I never made them oatmeal again! This being a perfect example of the lasting memories made during our time together.
 Every morning one of the littles would take my husbands hand and stare up at him silently and not move. This began an ever so amazing routine where he would say "has anyone told you yet this morning they love you" a sweet little voice from a smiling face would reply "noooo" giving hint to his next line of "well I love you" she would reply with "really?" and the final line being "really, really". This became a daily gem that not only those two loved but that the rest of us enjoyed watching.
 Answering a call from the social worker led to one of the most painful experiences of our lives. It was time to return the kiddos. My husband was to bring them to the county building. I remember it like it was yesterday with the pain still fresh. That little smiley voice that held his hand and looked desperately and trustingly up at him now was pleading with him not to bring her back. Those faces were filled with tears and anger as he walked them into the building. That little voice still pleading eventually having to be pried off of him.
 He walked back in our house in nearly convulsive weeping. No words. With all the love we had for them we could not save them. Our hearts felt shattered. Had we done enough? Did we just cause yet another wound in their fragile hearts? Those questions, unbeknownst to us were to be reoccurring and follow us with every young life that blessed ours.

Sirens blared and lights were everywhere as we pulled up. The ride along I was on that night was in a bustling and quite active area of the city. As I was standing, near enough to hear the victim and his plethora of angry words it became clear to me that this wasn't his first rodeo. As grateful as I was to have this first hand look at what these 'big city' police encounter day in and day out I was all too ready to leave the scene. While back in the squad a sense of relief rushed over me with the thought of "well that was quite the night". To be clear, that was only the second call of the night and less than two hours into the shift.
My breathing regulated as my heart regained its normal rhythm.
My cell phone rang and with the words my husband spoke I was sure he was pulling a fast one. Not so much!
As I stood near that victim (that did survive by the way) in one city three little ones miles away in another watched as their parents lie passed out. How long they were in that environment was not told to us but without doubt was days. My husband proceeded to inform me of the words of the officers when he got the call. These wee ones were covered in their own feces and starving. I knew we were on call that night but it had been slow so I felt confident that Jason wouldn't get a call and have to solo it. Oops! First things first here. Those same officers that called my husband did so post bathing these children not just once but several times and feeding them. They came to our home cleaned up and fed! Unfortunately bringing along heads full of lice thus bringing the Neal home lice numbers into the twenties with not once infecting a Neal. Yes this is a claim to fame!
When I finally arrived home my husband and some dear friends had again bathed and fed, played with and read too the wee ones. They were all fast asleep upon my return looking like, albeit worn out, nonetheless angels.
In the month they were with us we laughed like never before, pulled our hair out as never expected, and cried a flood of tears for the pain we saw in them. Two of these darlings didn't answer to their names so we gave them fun nicknames while the third only referred to herself in third person. My heart broke knowing that they were most likely never called by their names and my mind couldn't even imagine what they were called. What mattered was that we had a short time to pour all the love on them we could and allow them to be the beautiful children they were. That month flew by and s fast as they entered our lives they left our house. However they will never for one moment leave our hearts. The memories of these three and the ways they changed our lives, the many things they taught us, those are the things never to be forgotten.
These children were fought for, spoken for, advocated for, and wept for by every officer, social worker, physician, and all those close to us. They were loved. They were protected. Their story, their direction was changed by this team. Healing and hope began.

It was 2 am when the phone rang. The officer on the other end in his monotone voice "if you are the one on call then there is a baby here at the ER found covered in blood. Are you coming?" As the fog of sleep lifted I thought why am I picking a child up that is injured but trusting him I quickly said yes and hung up the phone. I walked into the chaotic ER, proceeded to inform the front desk nurse of why I was there. Her face softened and with a tear forming she asked me to follow her. That was the longest walk down any hallway I have taken to this day. What was I about to see? When I walked into the room there she was, the sweetest most precious big brown eyed girl ever. Her smile was exhilarating! Nurses surrounded her not for medical purpose but rather for love and affection she was soaking up like a sponge. 

As I drove home with this little angel joyfully listening to her giggles and babbling I knew she was going to be incredibly hard to see leave. She had been in the middle of a violent domestic dispute and by the grace of God was, although bloody, completely unharmed personally. I remember the faces of the nurses and the heaviness in the eyes of the officer that night. These are the images they see daily. My heart was a mess for so many reasons. So many people were forever affected by this one act of violence. How long would she stay? Where would she go next? These were the questions that stole my sleep that night. 

She brightened our lives for 36 hours. Those were hours I will always treasure! 

How do you open the door when the worker comes to get her to bring her back to the same environment from which she came? Each time gets harder yet your heart grows bigger. The impossible has to be done. We must love and let go. It is entirely unnatural yet so often we have to fight against our human nature to hold on or to fight when we must release the ones we love. 

If  you are a foster parent of thinking of being one I will tell you this with all honesty. You will never feel more fulfillment and pain simultaneously. You may never understand why you do it. You will never know the life changing differences you make in the lives of so many. Never forget you are part of a team. That officer or worker that brings the child(ren) to you, the countless health providers, advocates, and yes and maybe even more so the (no matter the reason for placement) the parents.

Foster parent are a huge need in nearly every county. I would love to help anyone interested in getting started with some direction.