Here We Go Again

I have to be sooooo careful what I say about our foster kids that I usually don’t say much.  My heart is on the streets really, but I am wrapped up in these little lives too.  And we sent one “home” just before Christmas, one that still has my heart broken.  I miss that kid!

I really gotta stop writing that story with that.

But it looks like we have another one coming… maybe tomorrow.  I can’t hardly get my head around that, much less my heart.  Easy come; easy go… it seems.  Now someone tell my heart, please.

I think about Shane Claiborne’s report of his experience with Mother Teresa… helping people die.  Poor people.  So poor and broken that the grace Teresa gave them in death was the first time some of them ever said THANK YOU.  And how they just kept on coming!  Everyday another life coming to the Sisters of Charity… coming to Jesus… coming to “the end”.

My wife is a nurse in the PICU.  Sometimes she comes home having lost one.  She comes home broken, and I tell her how glad I am that the dead kid got nursed by her!  Precious little comfort.

So… I am signing up for the pain.

Here we go again.


  1. Debi · January 16, 2017

    God bless you and Mrs. Agent X for all you do to show God’s love to those who need it most. ♥

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pastor Randy · January 16, 2017

    Thanks to both of you for being the most powerful witness together of God–opening your home and your hearts to another who needs both!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Agent X · January 16, 2017

    Thanx. Not sure I should have posted that. I felt like I was muting a lot of emotion. Some of it burst out around the edges and came out on my blog.

    Debi, Yes… in the simplest terms. But when I find myself arguing with a prepubescent child at almost every turn great and small, it doesn’t feel like love. It feels raw. We are on a learning curve here. I keep searching for the face of Jesus in that child, once in a while I sense I am see him. Mostly I see the whirlwind and tell myself, God spoke to Job from the whirlwind. A tornado. I never forgot how we prayed for God to show up. We wanted to welcome him. We thought we would be calling him Kaitlyn… or something like that. But instead the flood water rose to our back door. I realized I was losing the battle with the water. As it lapped over the door jam, I suddenly asked God: I this you coming home? You can destroy this place if you want. It’s your house. Yeah. I looked for him in the water. And then it suddenly retreated. But I often go back and remember that moment shortly before the children began showing up. And the love there is a raw offering.

    Pastor R, Yes… I live in the house God gave me. It’s God’s house. The HOUSE of God. I hope this servant at the door is awake and alert, ready for the Master’s return! If he came riding up on a donkey with a following of every low-life riff raff I hope he finds this to be a house of prayer for all and doesn’t start throwing tables and dumping my money out like a common home invasion! But the servant at the door keeping watch has a broken heart for that child that left us. That was the Jesus I wanted…

    Please pray with us.


  4. lorijames2014 · January 16, 2017

    Peace and prayers.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. · January 21, 2017

    When in doubt, hug it out.

    You can’t win an argument.

    You win with love. Love unconditional.

    Keep up the God works!

    May the Lord pour out His Kindness upon you and through you. Amen.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Agent X · January 21, 2017

      I agree, at least in the vast majority of cases, you cant win an argument. Good point. And thanx for the love!


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