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.