I guess you could call this part of Project 40?!?

Ok, so a little more about Project 40, if you haven't heard it all. It is simply some projects I've really wanted to do, and I want to do them before I'm 40. I put them together to call the whole shebang Project 40. I haven't really defined what all exactly is included in that yet, though. :)

{For example, I've *finally* cleared most of the toys out of the "toy room" to their new destination upstairs. And I've painted the 3 deep blue walls to a bright, happy green. The mural on it's 4th wall stays for now. It's on it's way to being an office; I can have a home for my work and Ainsley will have a place to do her homework. Some furniture has even been bought and assembled!!}

Well, I may have figured another, not-originally-included-in-P40, piece of the puzzle. See, Mark and I have been interested (for a while now, actually) in foster and/or adoption. We've spoken and agreed on principle that we are up for it, but have been waiting for the right timing and for a few pieces to feel like they've fallen into place. We just want to make sure we're being obedient to God in this process and not pushing the process for any reasons that may be our own agenda.

After attending a foster/adoption meeting at a huge church nearby a few months ago, Mark told me he felt like fostering was the way for us to start. The way he sees it, fostering is opening up your home to any child who is immediately in need of one instead of waiting to adopt one that we feel fits our parameters. Let me just say, I'm in full support of anyone adopting a child to give them a loving home no matter what. But I heard his heart on this and agreed to think about fostering over adoption for now.

Well, just to keep it real, that didn't stop me from going to Uganda and finding myself with a tiny little baby in my arms during a visit to one ministry and wondering if it wasn't a coincidence that he was in my arms and stayed in my heart long after I left the country. This baby had been abandoned near the Nile. His name? Moses. I mean, really? I came back and talked to Mark and just had to inquire about him. Well, he had been rehabilitated and a grandmother had been found and she's taking care of him. I still pray for Moses. xoxox

See, my problem with fostering had been a legitimate one. It was... but I have typed too much for one night. Come back (soon, I promise!) and I'll fill you in on how God has shown us some next, exciting (or scary? or both?) steps to take. As long as they are steps He has guided, I'll follow.