Not especially foster parents (although I stand in awe of those who are), but parents. I am angry at those who sign up their children to be culture warriors, and in fact tend to think their world-conquering fantasies aren’t just delusional but heretical. Our children are not our possessions. Like the rest of the creation, they’re God’s possession, and we are not even stewards of their lives. We are their servants. We serve them hand and foot as babies and children, we are at their beck and call throughout adolescence and early adulthood, and we live to hear our masters’ voices every moment thereafter. This is our cross: this is the death to self we gladly embrace.
Count it all joy, my brethren. How could you not?
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