I was heading into the doctor’s office today for another check-in (a journey I’ll talk about on here another day) and the phone rang. 

“Hello, Ms. Foote? I, well, you’re listed here on K’s sheet. Can I talk to you about her?”

“Yes, this is Ms. Foote and of course”, I responded as I fumbled with car keys and tried to kill time outside the waiting room. 

“Well, there was an incident this morning and I felt it was best to call”. 

Ok, without filling in any more details (since this is not a gossipy soap opera), you can imagine my internal reply; calm, cool and collected. Or more like…

YOU DID WHAAAAAAT?!

This girl with such empathy, drive and determination did what?!

Friends, parenting is hard and I am profoundly realizing the depths of how very identity-defining it can become with everyday we spend with K. 

I quickly made my way to the school and waited to meet with her and the guidance counselor. While I waited, I tried to calm my mind. 

This is not a reflection on me. This is not even an accurate reflection on her. 

I’m sorry goes a long way. We’ll work this out

Maybe we’re in for more than we bargained for here. 

Jesus, you’ve got this. I know you do. 

As our meeting unfolded into failing grades, unknown absences and unexcused skipped classes, I continued to battle the desire to make this about me and instead focus on K and the opportunity for God to redeem and rescue. 

Ponderings from #ourcornerlot as I listen to J and K fight to kick Algebra 2’s butt. (I didn’t tell you this journey would be easy or that my corresponding posts would make sense. Fostering in a non-foster care set up is anything but clear cut!)