When we agreed to bring our friends' daughter into our home, I thought about a lot of things. Whether she would be too homesick. How she would find the volume and pace of our family in comparison to hers. Whether she would find friends, or regret not living in the dorm. Whether we would thrive together. How the sibling relationships would work out. It is an awesome responsibility to parent someone else's child, and I expected some sense of relief if we made it through our first three months relatively intact.
Instead, I felt only grief. Another precious person to hold and release. Another important relationship that has huge gaps of space and time. Another piece of my heart sent away. Four kids were going to leave our home eventually, and now we have to survive five.
Be careful whom you love, or just let the cost sink in and hurt?