A few weeks ago I pulled out my poetry journal. I used to write in it frequently; bits and pieces of thoughts, poetry, pieces of songs, and prayers are scattered through the pages. It's been a while since I've looked at it, much less written in it.

This past year has been full of ups and downs, and altogether it has probably been one of the hardest and most intense years of my life. I have had strong faith, weak faith, had days that I felt I had no faith left. I've felt sure of God and His presence and had other days where I've felt so alone. I've believed God's Word with all of my heart, and then a few days later questioned if it was even true. I've felt deep anger and then chose to forgive, and then had to forgive again....and again....

Ever since I saw Miss B for the last time on June 2, it has been a struggle to focus on the good without letting all the ugliness of the case drown out the happy memories. I frequently hold back tears when I talk about her even 6 months later.

Fostering was something that was so close to my heart the past 8 years. From April 2013 until June 2014 I poured my life into Daniel and Miss B. During the 14 months I had Miss B, from a newborn until a toddler, I had very few full nights of sleep; now I look back with fondess on the nights that I held her and soothed her back to sleep. My days were busy taking care of the two kids, in addition to working and everything else that happens in life. My heart was happy and my days were full.

After she abruptly left, it felt like my heart had been ripped out and crushed. During these past summer months we were in court a lot, but after it was over I retreated and stopped talking about any of it. Answering questions about her was tough, and even thinking about her brought back all of the heartache and stress that was involved in those 14 months of fostering her. 

Now I feel like I am picking up the pieces of life again and figuring out what is next...
So I pulled out my poetry notebook and looked back through the pages. The last song I had started was for Miss B, but it was unfinished when she left and I couldn't bring myself to look at it again for several months. Maybe I can start to finish it. Or maybe other songs will come out instead.

But I feel like perhaps it is time to start putting some of the thoughts on paper again. And even though I've tried to shove much of the bad memories aside of the dealings with DHS etc I'm thinking maybe it is time to start writing about it, leaving names out of course. Even after several years of being involved in fostering and seeing alot of sad things, I honestly never knew that such depths of ugliness existed within the child welfare system, and it has left me wondering how much I can be involved again. The need is great, but some of the things we experienced in last year were so crazy they were almost unbelievable. However I keep praying that good will come of it all, and there will be beauty in place of ashes and sorrow.

"...weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning...." (Ps 30:5b) believing that it will be true.

Thanksgiving

⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
.... for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. (Phil 4)

adjective

adjective: content

1.

in a state of peaceful happiness.

"he seemed more content, less bitter"

synonyms:

contented, satisfied, pleased, gratified, fulfilled, happy, cheerful, glad; unworried, untroubled, at ease, at peace, tranquil, serene

Thanksgiving last year we were thanking God for an amazing answer to prayer. This year I am still reeling from the events of this past year, and learning to give thanks and be content when I am not on a mountain top of answered prayer.

One year ago, Miss B was 7.5 months old. She had been seeing her biological father for one hour supervised visits for about 5 months. The had only recently become consistent visits and most of the time she cried for most, if not all, of the hour.  He barely knew her habits and did not ask about her daily life. So we were shocked when the DHS worker told us that the tribe had requested that Miss B and her siblings be sent for a Thanksgiving visit an hour away at his house for 5 nights! The tribal worker was adamant that this plan and the judge was favorable to this request. 

We begged the worker to appeal the decision and said we would drive Miss B to his house the day after Thanksgiving and let him have her for the day. But it was too much for the baby to go from one hour supervised visits to almost a week of unsupervised time.

We were praying, our friends were praying, and the night before Miss B would have left for the visit, the worker called and said that the therapist submitted a letter to the judge explaining that it would not be in the baby's best interest to go on the extended visit. The four siblings went, but Miss B would stay with us. 

I was so relieved. All day on Thanksgiving day I was thanking God for that answered prayer and delighting in every moment with Miss B. 

Things became much harder in the case after that though, and from then on it was like the beginning of the end. 

This year I have so much to be thankful for, but she is still never far from my thoughts and I still tear up when I talk about her. 

This year I am learning to be thankful and trust God in the day to day when prayers are seemingly unanswered. Or at least not answered in the way I thought they would be.

Recently I was part of a study on Philippians 4, and the verses about not being anxious and being content in all circumstances were the basis of a rich discussion. Many thoughts that were shared have stayed with me, especially the ones related to being content when life is just plain hard.... In those times when we think things should be better and they are not, or it seems that God has left a prayer unanswered for no good reason. The times where it seemed that God should have had your back, and instead things turned out badly and you still have to trust Him. 

This past summer was hard, but at least I had a cause to fight for. Going to court 5 different times provided some sense of meaning in the face of what seemed to be unjust. Now that is all over, and in the aftermath I am learning to say to God, You are still good and I will trust. 

Thanksgiving this year will be different. In fact for my family it is going to be an unlike previous Thanksgivings, but I wanted to experience it differently this year.

Next year may be another mountain top year. And if it is, I will thank God. Whether mountain or valley, I hope I am learning in whatever state I am in, to be content, because if Jesus is the center then we have everything.

 

 I sat down to write, saw this post from a couple of months ago that I never finished, so here it is.....



today I have a lot of thoughts that are kind of all over the place. so I'm just going to write. no editing. no real point here. just rambling.

Last night we watched some old videos from my violin performances in college. I was a chubby cheeked 21 year old, caught up in music, playing volleyball with friends, leading a girls' Bible study, and loving God. Those were the happy days, I was so innocent and unaware of how life would take some crazy turns in the coming years. I had some turbulent years between ages 23-24 where I struggled with depression but came out on the other side stronger and shortly after that got interested in fostering. At that time I finally figured out "what I wanted to be when I grew up" and started finishing my bachelor's degree.

Now several years later I've come through one of the hardest years, which culminated in the hardest month ever. A couple of weeks ago I honestly did not know if my faith in God would survive. The hurt, anger, disappointment, exhaustion were overwhelming.

It wasn't just the fact that Miss B left. Of course it rips a foster parent's heart out to have a child removed that you have cared for since bringing them home from the hospital. But that goes with the territory of fostering. But having her removed with no notice, being lied about, treated with hatefulness, misunderstood, and then knowing that she was treated with so little regard, all contributed to feeling abandoned by God.

So these last weeks have been a crisis of faith that I believe is resolving in a stronger faith than before. When hard times come that cause you to question your theology along with everything you thought you believed, it becomes a turning point. Two weeks ago I thought that turning point was the end of my faith as I knew it. I wanted to walk away, throw it all away. But God has kept a hold on me and even though I still have hard days, I'm coming out stronger.

In fact as of this week I know that this story is far from over. I don't know how it will end but I know this is not the end. I am still believing God for big things and the results are going to be greater than just my family or one child.

This past week was the four year anniversary of Daniel's adoption. Truthfully the date slips by me every year because the day itself made legal what seemed to already exist. I had him since infancy, so by the time he was 3.5 yrs old he was already "mine" in my heart!

We have of course prayed that he would grow to love God and choose to follow Jesus. But I have been careful to not pressure him because I didn't want him to make that choice to please me or to fit in at church. I truly wanted it to be his choice from his heart.

I can tell it is something he has been thinking about though. Tonight when we were doing our Bible time before bed, he started asking more questions. We talked, I explained, I read Scripture, he listened, he thought...and he decided that this was the night he wanted to give his life to Christ and follow Jesus. 

In the midst of one of the hardest years, and when our family has endured some difficult things, God has been working in Daniel's heart. I am grateful.

loving from far away

Nothing has stretched me and taught me about sacrificial and love and forgiveness as much as my fostering experience these last 16 months.

Tomorrow she will have been gone for 2 months. I miss my baby girl more than anything. I think about her every day, it seems like 'round the clock. And yet I don't cry much anymore. Not like I did in the first few weeks anyway.

The last few weeks we have gone out of town, tried to prepare for the upcoming school year, attempted to bring some kind of organization to life, and focused on building ourselves back up spiritually, physically, and emotionally.

I have questioned my faith, been disappointed in humanity, struggled to forgive, been disillusioned by those who call themselves Christians and act like the devil, done a lot of reading....and eventually have come through stronger. It's still a process though.

These precious little hands are the hands of a toddler now. 16 months old.  I would give anything to kiss those hands again or hold those little fingers.

Next week is court hearing #4 regarding Little Miss. The whole case has been bizarre and I think it is nearly unprecedented to have a series of hearings still going on after a child has been put in a biological parent's home for "trial reunification."

So I take it that God is asking me to still pray fervently for her, for the situation, and trust that there is a purpose in all of this...even though I'm not exactly sure what that purpose is as the moment.

The good is that I still get to hear how she is doing at these hearings. For her sake I want everything to be ok. What I hear makes my heart hurt for her and her siblings, but I pray, pray, pray that she is being protected even in the middle of a situation that does not sound good to me.

This series of hearings has been brutal. So much accusation, ugliness, twisting of truth, and plain meanness. I am reading a book that talks of forgiveness, and it is a concept I have been working through now for weeks. It was a comfort to realize that forgiveness does not deny that a person was hurt or wronged. Forgiveness says, yeah you did act like a jerk, you did hurt me, but I choose to let go of anger and retaliation. Forgiveness does not mean that we have to be best buddies or that I even have to trust you again, but it does mean that I choose not to hate you for how you've treated me.

And gradually I have found that when I make the choice to forgive those who have been so cruel, or have lied to my face, or who have slandered our family, that God's grace comes in and I can look at them without negative emotions. At the last two hearings I have been able to smile and look into the eyes of those whom I would have labeled "enemies." I have offered peace to those who have hurt me--and some have rejected it. But it's still ok, because at least I have peace now.

It's a process though, and next week in hearing #4 my love and forgiveness just might be tested again. I don't know. I've discovered it is a risk, because it is not pleasant to try to greet someone and have them pretend you don't exist or look away. That hurts.

And loving baby girl from afar is not nearly as "fun" as holding her in my arms, but I guess my love for her didn't end when the DHS worker took her from me on June 2. Now I have to love her through prayer and through showing up to court to speak on her behalf, even though I don't know when I will see her again.

If I would have been told one year ago how it was going to all play out, I would have said, I am not strong enough for that. But even though right after she left, I was so ready to walk away from God, my faith is stronger now than it was before, and He is walking me through all of this.

beautiful in His time

It's always nice when there's a good ending to a story. In the beginning of 2013 our home was reopened to foster. One Tuesday in early January, with just a couple of hours notice, we were brought a toddler boy. He was a sweet little guy. He celebrated Daniel's 6th birthday with us, and we grew to love him.

He was not here for too long before DHS gave us less than an hour's notice that they were moving him to a non-relative kinship placement. It was a surprise, so we had to scramble to gather his things and say goodbye to him, as strangers came to pick him up in our living room.

Within a few months I was shocked to see this story on this news, because this toddler was that little boy:

http://www.kjrh.com/news/local-news/angela-cicone-arrested-after-toddler-son-suffers-repeated-injuries

I wept when I read this story and wondered if there was more we could have done to prevent this from happening. But by this time we had another little one in our home.

Just a few weeks ago my mom contacted the kinship foster mother who had taken this little guy from our home. He had been placed back in their home after this news story came out, and the happy news was that they will be adopting him. She emailed several pictures and we were thrilled to see how much he had grown in 1.5 years, and we were so happy to hear that he is doing well.

It was a comfort to see that God does make things beautiful in His timing. I will always remember the happy days we spent with that little guy. I will never regret loving him (though it hurt to say goodbye.) And I am so glad that life has turned out well for him.

why i will never be a plumber

I've learned to do a few basic home repairs and use some different tools. I've managed to fix a toilet, a leaky bathtub, a leaky sink, and replaced a sensor in my SUV. But I really don't enjoy it! My personality is such that if something needs to be done I'll usually watch a few youtube videos or read some how-to articles online and then give it try (and probably end up in tears before it's all done.)

It's been several years since there's been a leaky faucet in the house, but recently the kitchen sink started a slow drip. and then the slow drip became a faster drip. And the other day I finally decided the drip was getting pretty costly. So I figured it was time to refresh myself on how to fix the faucet.

I read several how-to articles online and got the courage to take the handles apart and pull out the inside thingy. I can't remember the technical names of the plumbing parts to they all become "thingys." Normally I take the parts to a plumbing supply store and they just give me what I need, since I don't know what to look for or ask for. This time though I was in a hurry to get the job done so we went to a close by hardware store instead.

Daniel came along with me to Sutherlands. When we finally found the right aisle, I was facing a whole wall of "thingys" and had no idea how to match the correct one. We pressed the call-for-help button and a store clerk came shortly and after a quick glance, told me that they didn't have the correct part. I would need to go to the plumbing supply store. So much for doing this quickly.

We drove to the plumbing supply store only to find that it was closed, I guess for the holiday weekend. Sigh. So I googled plumbing supply stores on my phone and found that the other one relatively close by had closed 26 minutes earlier!

I hadn't even gotten to fixing the faucet and I was nearly in tears! So we went to the pet store instead to get crickets to feed Allan's new frog. The day was going totally different than what I had planned.

Arriving home, I put the old parts back in until another day when I would start the process all over again and hopefully find the plumbing supply store open! (this time I'll call first)

But...oops. After putting it all back together I somehow put it together backwards so that the hot water handle turns on and off the opposite way. Two days later I haven't mustered up the interest to put it back the right way so it is driving my mom crazy. And that is why I am not a plumber.

Here's a pic from probably the last time we fixed a faucet....

 I've started several blog posts recently, had so many thoughts tumbling around but then I sit down and cannot organize them into anything that makes sense!

Just a little over 2 weeks until our next court hearing. Everything in me dreads it. I can't think of too much that I like less than being in court!

Tonight while I have the house to myself I am going through the many audio and video files I have of B in order to see if there is anything we want to use in court. I have procrastinated because it hurts so much. And if we share the recordings of her in distress, will those who want to discredit us twist it? Will they scoff at her cries?

So many nights I was up with her holding her while she cried. We begged people to listen. We invited them to spend the night or just listen to the recordings so they would know what their policies were doing to her. So they would know how fragile and needy she was. But who cared?

Following the surprise removal of B, DHS contacted us a couple of weeks later and asked if we would bring B's "belongings" to DHS--since the worker would not give us time to pack anything for her. I took them to the downtown office last week. I asked for some kind of explanation for the manner of removal and I got no direct answer. It turns out that the answer I was given was not true anyway. The next day I was able to see emails that were exchanged within DHS which gave me the answers to my questions and confirmed that what the worker had told me the day before was false.

After breaking down into tears in the DHS lobby, and begging the worker to tell me why, and getting no real answer, she looked at the bag of Brooklyn's "belongings," including new clothes and a new toy I had bought on the way and said "is this all?" I had prayed during the days leading up to my visit at DHS that God would help me to love and forgive, that He would give me meekness and humility. Heaven knows I've shared my opinion many times already! And it's a good thing I prayed those prayers because when she asked that question with a smirk "is this all?" my natural self would have wanted to rip into her and tell her what I thought of her question and they way they handled B's case. But I didn't. Somehow I had the grace to hold my tongue and trust that if I hold on to love that what is true will prevail.

But it's ok. God knows. And this is not over. I don't know the end of the story and I don't know when I will see B again but the prayers have not been in vain. I am still believing God for something big, something that will shake the child welfare system up because I hear too many stories--another one today--of how it is broken.

In the middle of these hard, hard weeks I still have hope.

fight with love

Another hearing regarding Miss B is in exactly one month. The days are full with Daniel's activities and my efforts to maintain some normalcy and get into a summer schedule.

My heart still hurts constantly, although some days I have no tears and other days I wake up with tears and go to bed with tears. I dreamed about B for the first time last weekend while we were out of town. On the one hand I was delighted to hold her again in my dreams, but it was like saying good-bye all over again when I woke up. Although I never really did get to say good-bye.

I still can't look at her closet or watch videos. Sometimes I can talk about her other times it just makes me cry.

Through the intense stress of the last year and the seeming lack of justice on B's behalf I have struggled immensely with my emotions towards those who have caused so much pain. I believe in justice and there is nothing on earth that brings the fight out in me as much as a baby or child. A baby is so incredibly helpless and depends on others to provide safety, nurture, and love.

Everything in me has wanted to find a way to take revenge, to hate, to refuse forgiveness and to wish all the evil returned back to those who have shown disregard for B.

This past week I read one book about love and now I am currently reading a book by Shane Claiborne titled "Jesus for President." It is rocking my world. I can't try to summarize it here but every page is speaking to me. It is a reminder that we are dealing with the world's system of power; it is man's system and it has become corrupt. It is of this world, not of the kingdom of God and many of the people working in it have become blind to love or compassion.

As I was praying tonight this phrase came to mind: fight with love. I get the fight part...but I've fallen way short on the love part. In fact there are some people that I cannot imagine ever loving. (and the feeling is probably mutual.) I've spend most of my life feeling like I never had enemies, I like most people and if I don't like them I just avoid them. But I haven't been able to avoid people in this situation and I cannot imagine going into another hostile court situation. In fact I can't go into a hostile court situation when my own heart is so unloving.

I'm still sorting through all of this because I still pray for justice for B and I hate what "the system" has done to her. Yet I'm asked to love my enemies and do good. God says vengeance belongs to Him but what about when vengeance doesn't come on my terms on my timetable?

It is humanly impossible for me to have a heart of love in a situation like this. I already know that. So these next weeks I will not only be asking God for miracles in the situation but I'll be asking for miracles in me for His glory.

I have heard that nothing compares to the pain of losing a child. I think it must be true.

This is grief....I am trying to enjoy the moment and make happy memories with Daniel this week, but below the surface the pain is a constant. It is never gone. Everything reminds me of Miss B. Going places without her is really hard.

Several times I have sat down with the intention of writing, but there is so much and so many emotions I don't even know how to express things.

It's been close to 2 weeks since the DHS worker took Miss B in a very cruel manner. 14 months of love ended in a hateful way with the caseworker's show of power. 

Alright people, you won. I never did this for a thank you, but even silence would have been kinder than your sneers, twisting of truth, and the pure hatred in your faces for our family. I will never understand the hate. To you she was just a file, a name on a piece of paper, a number on a docket. To me she was a fragile baby that I took home and cared for round the clock, staying up night after night, loved without holding back knowing that I was risking grief and loss. Only I didn't expect the cruelty that would accompany that loss. 

Not only did those working in the system let it be known that they hate me, and will do everything they can to make sure that I never see Miss B again, even if she is removed from her biological father's home in the future, but people that I thought I could trust have turned into back stabbers. I have seen more ugliness in human nature in the last months than I ever have wanted to see.

I am far from perfect and I have not always handled everything with grace. But to the best of my ability I try to be loyal. So the grief of having B ripped away without warning was exacerbated by the back stabbing in the days following...gossip, shunning, being unfriended and blocked on FB by people whom I had prayed for, encouraged, and would have defended and spoken up for. And for what?? I don't even know what I did wrong. I'd rather have someone tell me to my face what I've done wrong so I can make it right than to just hate, gossip, or cut me off.

Another hearing is ahead this summer, a legality to be able to finish what was started in May. It won't bring B back but it is an opportunity to get everything on record. Do I want to face those people again? No. They've stuck the knife in and twisted it already, I dread giving them another opportunity to do it again. But if it can somehow make a difference for B or for another child I can do it I think.

So today we keep moving forward and when the time is right we can talk and tell the whole story.

Baby girl, I miss you more than words can say. You deserved so much more than what life handed you these last 14 months.

It's been four months since I've posted anything here. Four long months. Four of the hardest, most chaotic months of my life.

I have been stronger than I ever thought I could be for these last months. I have been optimistic even during some of the hardest days. I live life always looking for the bright spot, believing the there will be good and that God will come through.

But this fostering journey of the last 13.5 months has pushed me nearly to the breaking point repeatedly especially in the last few months. So many times I've said, "I'm done. I cannot do this anymore." And then I look at Miss B and I think I can hang on for one more day.

We have advocated, spoken out, documented, pleaded, begged....I have felt like the widow in the Bible parable who wouldn't let up asking until the unjust judge finally relented just to get her off his back. Only in this case the more we ask, the more the people within the child welfare system retaliate and do the opposite of what we ask. I have never, ever interacted with so many cruel, heartless, and twisted people. Sometimes I feel like they must be insane because no rational person thinks the way they do.

Tonight I looked at my one miracle lying in his bed, and I held little B as she was sleeping and couldn't hold back tears anymore. Some days I feel like I'm hanging by a thread of hope that things will turn out well for her, that she won't be one of the thousands that are crushed by the foster system. I would do anything to protect her and would take her place in a heartbeat if I could. But that love that only wants the best for a child is scorned in child welfare and twisted to be something evil.

But is hope in there. There are a handful of advocates for B who are doing everything they can to ensure the very best, and safest situation for her. We have a hearing in a couple of weeks in which our attorney hopes to bring out truth for the judge to hear.

And in the meanwhile, we document and document and document some more. And we hope and we pray.

Perhaps the biggest battle has been not letting the ugliness of it all crush me. If I keep my eyes on God and His promises and His Word then evil cannot win. But that is a tough battle for me to fight.

Tonight two little ones are safe in their beds and are at peace. So tonight all is well. Trusting that I can put B in God's capable hands and that I will have strength to keep going one day at a time!

tired.

I faintly remember what it is like to sleep a full night--or at least something more than 3 consecutive, uninterrupted hours! I thought I was exhausted during Daniel's case; maybe time has softened the memories, but I feel like my current baby's case is 50x harder. Daniel's was emotionally exhausting. Miss B's is emotionally exhausting but it is also physically exhausting.

Every night involves her waking up multiple times. On a good night it will be 2 or 3 times with a bottle and back to sleep. On a bad night it means her crying out every hour. I cannot divulge specifics of the case, but I will say it is not just because she is a poor sleeper or hasn't learned how to sleep. I'm not an advocate of "crying it out" anyway but even if I were, I don't believe that method would help a fragile baby like Miss B. Substance-exposure in utero and the happenings of the last 9.5 months of her short life have, I believe, contributed to the difficulties she faces with sleep and otherwise.

But who in the system cares? She is just one of thousands. She appears to most to be a happy, sociable, healthy baby girl. She is all those things but she also has huge, huge needs. I have wished so many times that the judge, the caseworker, the attorneys, the therapists, SOMEONE would come spend the night and be the one to see get up with her and see her distress. Or to see the dark circles emerge under her eyes when she cannot settle to take decent naps. Maybe then they would understand, care, listen, not look at us like we are crazy or that maybe we are the problem.

Foster parents learn though experience. We have training and have to keep up training hours every year. I studied psychology in college and have continued studying and reading on my own. But I have found the best teacher is experience. Textbook learning cannot compare to knowing a child inside and out and learning to read their cues. But in the child welfare world the foster parent is often silenced. There are some that listen but everything we say must be validated by an expert and sometimes the experts have never lived with a traumatized child. 

The frustration is so great when I just want justice for a child and no one seems to care. Or they put their own slant on things. Or they question what we say.

If I did not believe that God sees all things, knows all things, and was the defender of the weak, a just and merciful God, I would be done and without hope.

But because I know He is, I will choose to have hope. And ask for strength each day!