It’s just an empty room with heinous lavender paint and carpet that I’m sure I’ll change out soon. The walls are just begging to be made any other shade. But above all that... it’s empty.
It’s hard to describe the sound of quietness... my house constantly echoes the sounds of people. Playing, arguing, laughing, crying, the typical sounds of a boisterous family. But tonight I’m missing the “Miss Misty.” I was never 'mom' to her but that’s ok. I kind of liked being “Miss Misty” to a girl who I am so insanely proud of. She’s the nice girl when others are rude. She’s the confident one when others back down. She is the sweet girl who loves little kids that aren’t “hers.”
She’s the one who taught me not to be afraid of teenagers, especially the ones you didn’t birth. She’s the patient one, the long suffering one, the funny one. Don’t get me wrong. I love this girl but she would also drive me so insane I didn’t know how I would face another day. But we did, together.
She forgives and loves hard. I don’t know if she sees this about herself but she exudes Jesus. She taught me to give more of myself and to push even when I just really didn’t want to. Some days it was so very hard. But the result? Untold laughs, hugs, bedtime prayers and so much love.
I didn’t think this empty room would hurt quite like this, but it does. That’s ok. I know it won’t be empty long. So for tonight, I’ll sit on the floor and pray. Pray for her, for the next one, and for those who step in and bridge the gap for the kids who just need some structure and a whole lot of Jesus. She’s going to her new family, her siblings, and her future. Our present with her has ended, but the future is so amazing for our girl. Thank you for all the things you taught me M. I can’t wait to see where you and the Lord take it from here.
-courtesy of one of our local foster moms, Misty Preston