Hearing The Promise
Stories
56 Stories For Preaching
Rhea Lawson was 49 when it happened. Her last child would
graduate from high school in three months. Even with the
frustration of the divorce nine years ago and juggling
visitations between three teenagers and their father with her
nursing shift, Rhea still thrived on being a single parent.
Friends commented on her apparent ease in managing the twins
and their brother. A natural nurturer, they said. It was her bent
for organizing that freed her to focus on the boys, not
smothering or over-managing but listening for what they needed.
Besides, Rhea liked kids. She loved to be part of the opening up
of a life.
The social worker's suggestion that she become licensed as a
foster care home was nearly as surprising as the opening of her
door that Thursday morning. But, we're ahead of the story.
That Thursday morning, a fantasy became reality. Rhea found on
her front porch in a plastic clothes basket an hours-old baby
swaddled in bath towels.
What made it even stranger was that another newborn had been
left on the convent steps in their town only a year or so ago.
These events left Rhea wondering if the town, a mile from the
interstate, were to become a year 2000 drive-through repository
for babies of teenage mothers.
Had Rhea been any other woman -- but this was different from
the start. Fantasy evaporated when it was her doorstep and her
arms cradling the infant. Then, the social worker seemed to be an
emissary of another source. Her clear statement of need for a
foster care home tugged at Rhea. For years, the foster mother in
their rural county had provided
a temporary home for at least one child at a time, but she was
retiring. Considering drug-related problems and AIDS babies, the
social worker's presentation was realistic.
When God has something in mind for you, do you really have a
choice? On the one hand, Rhea was the maker of her own decisions.
She also was aware of all she had been given. She trusted that as
evidence of God's promise never to desert her.
Rhea had never seriously considered becoming a professional
mother. She laughed at the timing. Certainly, a younger couple
would be more appropriate. She was launching her last chapter
before retirement. Switch all-nighters with teens for babies?
Yet, another side sensed that God had something in mind for
her. Why did this little baby call to her so intensely? While she
had not acted on the need for someone to love thrown-away babies,
Rhea admitted now to the seed of concern planted in her heart
some time ago. Would caring for these babies be her promise that
they not be deserted? The nudges of this infant and the social
worker forced the issue. How could she not help this next
generation of babies to get a sturdy start?
graduate from high school in three months. Even with the
frustration of the divorce nine years ago and juggling
visitations between three teenagers and their father with her
nursing shift, Rhea still thrived on being a single parent.
Friends commented on her apparent ease in managing the twins
and their brother. A natural nurturer, they said. It was her bent
for organizing that freed her to focus on the boys, not
smothering or over-managing but listening for what they needed.
Besides, Rhea liked kids. She loved to be part of the opening up
of a life.
The social worker's suggestion that she become licensed as a
foster care home was nearly as surprising as the opening of her
door that Thursday morning. But, we're ahead of the story.
That Thursday morning, a fantasy became reality. Rhea found on
her front porch in a plastic clothes basket an hours-old baby
swaddled in bath towels.
What made it even stranger was that another newborn had been
left on the convent steps in their town only a year or so ago.
These events left Rhea wondering if the town, a mile from the
interstate, were to become a year 2000 drive-through repository
for babies of teenage mothers.
Had Rhea been any other woman -- but this was different from
the start. Fantasy evaporated when it was her doorstep and her
arms cradling the infant. Then, the social worker seemed to be an
emissary of another source. Her clear statement of need for a
foster care home tugged at Rhea. For years, the foster mother in
their rural county had provided
a temporary home for at least one child at a time, but she was
retiring. Considering drug-related problems and AIDS babies, the
social worker's presentation was realistic.
When God has something in mind for you, do you really have a
choice? On the one hand, Rhea was the maker of her own decisions.
She also was aware of all she had been given. She trusted that as
evidence of God's promise never to desert her.
Rhea had never seriously considered becoming a professional
mother. She laughed at the timing. Certainly, a younger couple
would be more appropriate. She was launching her last chapter
before retirement. Switch all-nighters with teens for babies?
Yet, another side sensed that God had something in mind for
her. Why did this little baby call to her so intensely? While she
had not acted on the need for someone to love thrown-away babies,
Rhea admitted now to the seed of concern planted in her heart
some time ago. Would caring for these babies be her promise that
they not be deserted? The nudges of this infant and the social
worker forced the issue. How could she not help this next
generation of babies to get a sturdy start?
