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.
