tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58161834832771287562024-03-04T23:16:47.421-08:00gracenotes~*notes from my journey with God, relying on His graceheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-73216587287648339492022-08-25T19:06:00.001-07:002022-08-25T19:06:41.435-07:00the rest of the story<p> As I have revisited this blog and re-lived some of these memories, one post especially was emotional for me, and I realized that I never finished the story.</p><p>You can read the first parts <a href="http://heidigracepowsey.blogspot.com/2015/01/fostering-adventure-for-new-year.html?m=1">here</a> and <a href="http://heidigracepowsey.blogspot.com/2015/01/reflections.html?m=1">here</a></p><p>While Jamere was at our home and in the weeks following, both my mom and I visited his mother and wrote her letters while she was in the jail. She had been arrested for assaulting another woman, and that’s what led to Jamere being placed in our home.</p><p>Our hope was to encourage her to get into recovery—she had an alcohol addiction—and be able to take the necessary steps to get her son home, even if he was no longer in our home.</p><p>After a month or so passed, she was released and we lost contact with her. We found out that Jamere was removed from the foster home he was placed in, and since we were no longer part of the case, we also lost track of him.</p><p>More than a year passed in which we had two more children pass through our home and as a result of the stress of the last child’s case, we made the decision to close our home.</p><p>However, the children never just disappear from your heart or memories.</p><p>I looked up Jamere’s mother and found out that she was arrested again for robbery of a pharmacy which meant that she likely destroyed her chances of getting her son back.</p><p>That was heartbreaking to find out. </p><p>My mom decided to post in a local foster and adoption Facebook group to see if anyone in the group might know of the whereabouts of Jamere.</p><p>Someone responded and his foster mom reached out to us.</p><p>He had been placed in a foster home for a while and was thriving. The plan was moving towards adoption. However DHS located an uncle several states away, and although Jamere had not known him, DHS arranged for the uncle and family to adopt him.</p><p>He was being moved to the Chicago area in a matter of days. But the foster mother welcomed us to come to their home and see him again before he left.</p><p>Although it had been more than a year since we had seen him, and he had only lived with us for a week, as soon as he saw us he recognized us and came running for hugs. I cried of course because I was so happy to see him happy! He had had such a rough road and yet he was happy and safe. It was sad to think that he was being moved yet again, but we could only hope that he would adjust again to the new home and that it would be a permanent, stable, loving home for him.</p><p>He would be around ten or eleven years old now. I don’t even remember his last name, and of course since he was adopted he would have a new name. So it is unlikely that I will see him again in this life anyway. I hope he is happy now and will continue to be so in his future.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgi9zcBIluXDneK1jhOVf5DUcUmA2ZFksQdhcIQurppZetviCPk-SCP_FgYvNxd6Aw5-KzYABo5IgKY4RX7JhheslAH82G_NoI8foVa74R3VR9w6vcqeuIXTRR7ThW-V-4flf7X7CrSKd7PJEy81bJA-JRoOGasCHRFxNkLTKmJrTKvr0-CcrALyAlQ/s1792/A4A2DA3C-2FA6-4616-9F75-ECB6172B2B4C.png" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgi9zcBIluXDneK1jhOVf5DUcUmA2ZFksQdhcIQurppZetviCPk-SCP_FgYvNxd6Aw5-KzYABo5IgKY4RX7JhheslAH82G_NoI8foVa74R3VR9w6vcqeuIXTRR7ThW-V-4flf7X7CrSKd7PJEy81bJA-JRoOGasCHRFxNkLTKmJrTKvr0-CcrALyAlQ/s320/A4A2DA3C-2FA6-4616-9F75-ECB6172B2B4C.png" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last night before he left our home</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlL_RhxrxjcVVThEtOkEHs0nxmbZv432UJ7tbGrFVquaGFtuPjwtzYN5fWwEmjN944Zhk4I2vyzCrE_Gc6P9g30TS_xlMWPRTazSO-Blq5qgfY3EZjloG9CE7L2geleaj9Rmv9-6y4_ctBrrhXRqj7hz3DAYxmrWhtaEiuN2OL2zC_iYwb8pz5_kR6A/s1472/DEFF5BED-68A1-4418-9FA8-3C4980DFA7AA.jpeg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1472" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlL_RhxrxjcVVThEtOkEHs0nxmbZv432UJ7tbGrFVquaGFtuPjwtzYN5fWwEmjN944Zhk4I2vyzCrE_Gc6P9g30TS_xlMWPRTazSO-Blq5qgfY3EZjloG9CE7L2geleaj9Rmv9-6y4_ctBrrhXRqj7hz3DAYxmrWhtaEiuN2OL2zC_iYwb8pz5_kR6A/s320/DEFF5BED-68A1-4418-9FA8-3C4980DFA7AA.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saying hello and goodbye one last time</td></tr></tbody></table>heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-88828558154545725202022-08-24T20:48:00.003-07:002022-08-24T20:51:10.926-07:00Regrets<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1yQHxayu3VNMgAV8UTyz0R6ZzAYjvr3ghlFU60HwCMOxCzMqTLN5jLptdYCnsnh4QkYIO8szHPSG8WGMXVPdq_bOi7_NO13hSLUHRkdPMrLdBMuKjcgq_YSOU6Bv8Q3gZ5WX_pzTzxrVGn0_EnQ4uzsUmMo5YNgOHV9TKqbatvcY2dNSzsxSPvVbqeQ/s1792/008088DB-F3E0-4FBB-B389-26CEA37400E5.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div><p> <span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">Maybe it’s something about having a milestone birthday coming up that makes a person reflect on life and the decisions that led them to where they are today. </span></p><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"><br />For most of my life, I have never been one to dwell on the past. In my thinking, the past is the past. There is no reason to go backwards and wish that things were different.<br /><br />Until recently.<br /><br />Let me first say that the one thing I don’t regret, and never will regret, is my children. They are my life and what keeps me going. They challenge me and wear me out, and sometimes I get so overwhelmed with trying to meet such vastly different needs between the two of them. But in spite of difficult days, they will never be a regret. I am so, so proud of them both. And I love them.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1yQHxayu3VNMgAV8UTyz0R6ZzAYjvr3ghlFU60HwCMOxCzMqTLN5jLptdYCnsnh4QkYIO8szHPSG8WGMXVPdq_bOi7_NO13hSLUHRkdPMrLdBMuKjcgq_YSOU6Bv8Q3gZ5WX_pzTzxrVGn0_EnQ4uzsUmMo5YNgOHV9TKqbatvcY2dNSzsxSPvVbqeQ/s1792/008088DB-F3E0-4FBB-B389-26CEA37400E5.png" style="display: block; font-family: -webkit-standard; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1yQHxayu3VNMgAV8UTyz0R6ZzAYjvr3ghlFU60HwCMOxCzMqTLN5jLptdYCnsnh4QkYIO8szHPSG8WGMXVPdq_bOi7_NO13hSLUHRkdPMrLdBMuKjcgq_YSOU6Bv8Q3gZ5WX_pzTzxrVGn0_EnQ4uzsUmMo5YNgOHV9TKqbatvcY2dNSzsxSPvVbqeQ/s320/008088DB-F3E0-4FBB-B389-26CEA37400E5.png" /></a><br />However I find myself often battling the “what if“ thoughts. What if I had done this differently, what if I had made this choice instead of that choice… I wish…. I wish… I wish….</div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I try so hard to silence those thoughts because they drag me down. </div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">In spite of sometimes wishing I could go back and shake my twenty year old self to do things differently, I come back to two things.</div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">First, I hope that I can teach my children from my own mistakes and that they can be more successful that me. </div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">And secondly, I ask myself what I can do now and into the future, so that ten years from now I won’t have regrets from these days. </div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">How do you deal with regrets? How do you turn them into something positive?</div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"><i>“And we know that for those who love God, all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.” Rom 8:28</i></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRw0pJbdSLeL1l7prA1Hp1JEwt03o3h6pgqVp2oFtYz4kWvMnEtBTFr66H7yaqhekvl696x6aZVJPR7F0lzQtZfBh1LsgJb9exVh9EiyzrqMCnFafgag6nCziywPyNr6cBxc68HGlQWGdhwxLfptf5rx6nh1r6H1XsVsCjiUTqGHMye7SwW5-KGcTGg/s1792/D4835A91-DCA6-46FB-A02C-EEF5CB9ED987.png" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRw0pJbdSLeL1l7prA1Hp1JEwt03o3h6pgqVp2oFtYz4kWvMnEtBTFr66H7yaqhekvl696x6aZVJPR7F0lzQtZfBh1LsgJb9exVh9EiyzrqMCnFafgag6nCziywPyNr6cBxc68HGlQWGdhwxLfptf5rx6nh1r6H1XsVsCjiUTqGHMye7SwW5-KGcTGg/w185-h400/D4835A91-DCA6-46FB-A02C-EEF5CB9ED987.png" width="185" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table>heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-85576866658232980462022-08-20T15:46:00.001-07:002022-08-20T16:21:43.144-07:00starting again<p>It’s been five years since I last posted. I have decided to revive this blog. I used to journal frequently. But life has gotten busier, and I rarely have quiet time to collect my thoughts and journal in a coherent manner, other than a few sentences here and there. </p><p>The majority of this blog was written during my journey of foster parenting, however that chapter of my life is closed permanently, at least as far as I can tell.</p><p>I feel like I need some kind of outlet to sort my thoughts about life and reflect on where I have been and where I am going. So much has happened since I wrote my last blog post and I hope to take some time to journal it.</p><p>It was more than fifteen years ago that we began the training for foster care. After volunteering at the local shelter, I was determined that we could open our home and make a difference. I hope that in some way we did. </p><p>Looking back I realize how naive I was and maybe a tad bit immature 🫣 If I could go back and change some things, I definitely would change some of my attitudes. But hindsight is 20/20 right?</p><p>Our home closed seven years ago. I’ve lost track of all the children that stayed with us with the exception of my adopted son. The two baby girls we had would be nine and six now. I know two girls that are almost the exact same age and I sometimes look at them and wonder how Miss B and Miss C are doing today. Who are they now? What are they like?</p><p>I now have two children that keep me busy from morning until night. Turning forty this month with a teenager and a precocious toddler is definitely challenging. I never thought I would find myself where I am at today. It’s been a series of highs and lows, mistakes and happy days. </p><p>But here we are. I’ve got five years of life to reflect on since I last published something. Let’s see if I can keep this blog going 😊❤️</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEPUTXlDjzt1S-7mD9m-DAgc9a3st9I7QJDplCSZm3Cpo4WuhaxoMRZJRl_W80neZcv8D3I0gjb0GhgPxg1a9duBQ1G_jMmddmI2x5eTdF3tgahT8gpTJmXbfO1o218ANcPChbjry5dyO1rqiKOMVaN8mMp33Tz84uFDlntP_zXgRjfaen-wPA5AWkWg/s1792/9EEAC3B3-8C4B-4978-BBB7-34DD5204B0BE.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEPUTXlDjzt1S-7mD9m-DAgc9a3st9I7QJDplCSZm3Cpo4WuhaxoMRZJRl_W80neZcv8D3I0gjb0GhgPxg1a9duBQ1G_jMmddmI2x5eTdF3tgahT8gpTJmXbfO1o218ANcPChbjry5dyO1rqiKOMVaN8mMp33Tz84uFDlntP_zXgRjfaen-wPA5AWkWg/s320/9EEAC3B3-8C4B-4978-BBB7-34DD5204B0BE.png"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBizu-zpwC9mAIGQa-2iiZ_r1rjx1pNHyZruq8yi3t73xHS3_3bhNEpS9UCmz6EV0IawfWZijcc4Y1BWSgEX1f5A2C1GtyjL_k_9uThD18-ShTe9vpDRpf4yZMiNbTdcHq8ybsJLi_9kozac4XTDY11-zQqLXqyEY9lsWNbd7eNw8h2soAHf1cBsdZg/s1792/38269DE8-29D2-4B91-83A3-FE7052F33D05.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBizu-zpwC9mAIGQa-2iiZ_r1rjx1pNHyZruq8yi3t73xHS3_3bhNEpS9UCmz6EV0IawfWZijcc4Y1BWSgEX1f5A2C1GtyjL_k_9uThD18-ShTe9vpDRpf4yZMiNbTdcHq8ybsJLi_9kozac4XTDY11-zQqLXqyEY9lsWNbd7eNw8h2soAHf1cBsdZg/s320/38269DE8-29D2-4B91-83A3-FE7052F33D05.png"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttrHIBosx58Rd5tpcm66EGnbB3GqdXI4ltiNYmV_Ru3SDegMVpgEpm-aYEuxS03MOJVLAfTW5jzl092i7GkvZL8DiIZtwUWyGwML1NWYt-2K319rApebDR-H48BzBxjqKSwOut3oVYJoy7gMzMXElXDKdS3q6Q2ErIRQa_9sAeJP7QDF4hSSrm1vy_g/s1792/0305175B-6078-467A-9DAC-6BE892DB2713.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttrHIBosx58Rd5tpcm66EGnbB3GqdXI4ltiNYmV_Ru3SDegMVpgEpm-aYEuxS03MOJVLAfTW5jzl092i7GkvZL8DiIZtwUWyGwML1NWYt-2K319rApebDR-H48BzBxjqKSwOut3oVYJoy7gMzMXElXDKdS3q6Q2ErIRQa_9sAeJP7QDF4hSSrm1vy_g/s320/0305175B-6078-467A-9DAC-6BE892DB2713.png"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53TAIlkfsb-nWsO-sr6QYHEfXKQZWyiK5NUCCcGjbJh9-H5vGczEJGldbuQju96PcwQiuaC6LZocMPFQSK8ZgaAix0i16XI86n41W1uUPBBhn43nclmiuooSGFyFDVhiDMO246jiiRI4bKclafg61sVZbcg-qqt5HjyqdukdWI7DhIoh1UNx-HvKArg/s1792/DEB9BFA5-A51D-46E2-8A5F-DE633DCFBAAC.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="828" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53TAIlkfsb-nWsO-sr6QYHEfXKQZWyiK5NUCCcGjbJh9-H5vGczEJGldbuQju96PcwQiuaC6LZocMPFQSK8ZgaAix0i16XI86n41W1uUPBBhn43nclmiuooSGFyFDVhiDMO246jiiRI4bKclafg61sVZbcg-qqt5HjyqdukdWI7DhIoh1UNx-HvKArg/s320/DEB9BFA5-A51D-46E2-8A5F-DE633DCFBAAC.png"/></a></div>
heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-19053591506629300492017-06-12T07:24:00.002-07:002017-06-12T07:24:31.817-07:00it's been so long...Occasionally friends ask if I am still blogging, and I say no as it has been a long time since I have even looked at this blog! Almost two years since I last posted....<br />
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And in those two years so much has happened and changed, and yet very little has changed. On the surface, much of life is the same as it was two years ago. But after some heartbreaking fostering situations, the last one ending a year ago, I realized it was time for me to end that chapter of my life.<br />
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For over 10 years I had been passionate about foster care, about making a difference in the system, starting when I was volunteering at the shelter. I thought it would be my calling for life, but then you realize sometimes that life direction and focus change and things don't always stay the same.<br />
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We took in our last baby in October of 2015. She was a newborn from the hospital with drugs in her system. We fully supported visitation with her mother and had assumed that she would be reunified with her mother, as her mom seem invested in working to get her baby back.<br />
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Shortly before she turned 6 months, the caseworker informed us that the paternal aunt was hoping to get custody of the baby and she would be completing her homestudy soon. We were surprised for several reasons, including that the plan was still reunification, so another move for the baby would be detrimental. Also, the paternal family had a history of instability documented through court records online.<br />
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We filed an objection to removal in court. Up to this point we had fully cooperated with DHS, had not gotten involved with anything to do with court, nor had we gone to court hearings or staffings, as this time our goal was only to provide care for the baby and not get involved with anything beyond that.<br />
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The court hearing was horrible and we were accused of wanting to adopt the baby. The judge made it clear that she was looking at this as an adoption case and that the aunt would be the adoptive home, completely dismissing the mother and her efforts.<br />
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The baby was moved the next day. From that time forward all communication was severed. In the following months the aunt was twice evicted from her apartment.<br />
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6 months later we became aware that the baby had to be removed from the aunt's home because the conditions had deteriorated. This was shortly before the baby's first birthday. We thought they would call us to take the baby again since by law we should be given first choice for placement. But they had already placed her in another foster home. We asked if we could visit. A visit was set up and then two days before the visit we were told it was cancelled and there would be no further visitation because it would traumatize the baby.<br />
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Filing a grievance went nowhere, as everyone pointed a finger at someone else as to why the case was handled as it was. The baby was supposedly adopted by that foster mother and I can only hope that she will have a good future after such a tumultuous first year of life.<br />
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At that point, I decided that this time I was really finished. In the past, I would take time to grieve and recover and then be ready again. But this time I realized that I could no longer deal with the stress and emotional roller coaster. The state continues to have a shortage of foster homes and yet I can no longer work with a system that is so very broken. There are many devastation foster care stories and i am not the only foster parent that has had to deal with heartbreak. Some find the strength to keep going but I knew that my time was finished.<br />
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It is time for me to focus on moving forward, making a good life for the son I do have, and finding new direction in life.<br />
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This blog was not originally started to talk about only foster care although that is kind of what it turned into! So maybe this will be the last post or maybe there will be future chapters,heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-17186884154078182542015-07-31T14:39:00.001-07:002015-07-31T14:39:25.953-07:00foster loving.We got the call June 30th for a preschool aged boy. We said yes, even Daniel was fully in agreement. I said yes hesitantly only because I fear the unknown sometimes and bringing a new person into one's life is always full of uncertainties.<br />
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The first week was hard. There were many adjustments for everyone. Daniel and "Striker" were both used to being an only child so they were defensive and bickered with each other. After that first week things began to settle. The boys started getting along, and actually began playing well with each other with fewer and fewer squabbles.<br />
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For the first couple of weeks, the plan was that Striker would go to a relative after the home was approved. When that fell through, we were looking at him living with us for at least several months, if not longer. Daniel was definite that he was in agreement with that plan. On my good days, I was happy about it. On my tired days, I wondered if I could really assimilate a 4.5 year old into my life once the Fall schedule started.<br />
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But it made me happy to watch the boys playing outside on the trampoline, wrestle together, and hearing them play with cars and Legos together. Daniel is sociable and once he got over the hard first week, he seemed to, for the most part, enjoy having a buddy (not that they didn't get on each others nerves at times!)<br />
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So when the caseworker relayed the news to us today that there was another kinship possibility that had come forward, and looked promising, all of the hard things suddenly seemed minor and the sacrifices and inconveniences didn't seem so hard anymore. I realized I was going to miss the little man when he moves, whether that is next week or months from now. When I told Daniel of the latest possibilities, I got teary. I think I cry when every child leaves. Even the hardest one earlier this year, I cried for two days and still have his picture in my room.<br />
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I don't like loss and I don't like to be sad. But when these children come and go, I let myself process my feelings in front of Daniel so that he learns that it's ok to love and let go. It's ok to feel sad. And it's ok to grieve.<br />
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I still grieve over my little Miss B. I miss her all the time. Each of these kiddos is unique and become a part of our lives.<br />
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So we continue one day at a time, trusting that God will work out what is best for this current child.<br />
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<br />heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-49754708184480649342015-01-31T09:46:00.001-08:002015-01-31T09:58:43.024-08:00The story of Miss B part 2<br />
For 14 months we provided a home for Miss B. We picked her up from
the hospital and dealt with a crazy system for 14 months until the DHS
worker arrived unannounced to take her to her biological father, without
giving us a chance to say goodbye.<br />
After months of trying to
process those 14 months, and the grief that accompanied the whole
experience, I have decided to write about all of it. I will not give out
specific names of any of the people involved.<br />
Also, I am choosing
to focus very little on the biological family in order to respect their
privacy. Instead I am processing how a system that is supposed to be
about "child welfare" handled her case so poorly. I will be writing this
in parts, so this is Part 2, and Part 1 can be found <a href="http://heidigracepowsey.blogspot.com/2015/01/the-story-of-miss-b-part-1.html">here</a>.<br />
<br />
In order to maintain confidentiality, I will refer to Miss B as "Butterfly"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*************************************************************** </div>
<br />
By October 2013, Butterfly was 6 months old. Visits were still filled with distress and crying and it wasn't getting better. The therapist-candidate sent an email that after "staffing" it she decided it would work best if my mom was in part of the visit so there was overlap to help minimize Butterfly's stress and crying.<br />
<br />
Also, in October 2013 an accelerated court hearing was scheduled. At that hearing, the judge ordered that the parents start getting unsupervised visits with the children. I questioned the baby's attorney on this since the mother was not producing clean drug tests and had made little progress on the treatment plan. I could not fathom why the judge was ordering unsupervised visits under the circumstances.<br />
<br />
But we had no idea what actually happened in the accelerated hearing, because all of the foster parents were asked to leave the courtroom. Later we were told that the tribal worker made a lot of nasty accusations against all of the foster parents, but us especially. She told the judge that we spoiled the baby and never let her cry. The judge was suspicious that we did not have her in daycare, and the tribal worker implied that the baby cried in visits because she had not had trauma in her life. In other words she was just too sensitive and it was our fault.<br />
<br />
An even bigger surprise came as Thanksgiving approached--we were told that the judge was ordering all the children to go to the father's house for several days over Thanksgiving. The tribal worker wanted them to go from Wed-Mon. I thought I was going to faint. Butterfly was only doing two one-hour supervised visits/week and was barely coping with that. The father knew nothing about her daily life or habits.<br />
<br />
By this time a psychologist became involved in the case. We had also worked with her in Daniel's case and she had been pivotal in his case for good. She had a reputation as one of THE infant mental health experts in our area, and we were excited that she was going to be a part of Butterfly's case. She visited along with the DHS caseworker at our home twice briefly, and met with the therapist candidate. To my knowledge she never observed live parent/child interaction.<br />
<br />
After her visits at our home, she never responded to phone calls or emails, and we learned later that her involvement in the case was primarily getting info from the candidate and the DHS worker and then giving her opinion based off of their info.<br />
<br />
But, her involvement put the brakes on unsupervised visits, as well as cancelling the Thanksgiving overnight on Butterfly's behalf. The alternative that was presented to the judge was that Butterfly would increase to 3-4 weekly visits with the parents starting in January.<br />
<br />
By this time we had a regular email/FB/phone/text relationship with the other foster families of Butterfly's older siblings. We would talk about our experiences, vent, share encouragement and prayers. I felt close to them since we had shared experiences with these siblings. <br />
<br />
In mid-December 2013 there was another review hearing. We were not expecting big changes for Butterfly, but the other foster parents were expecting that their children would be returning to the father. Much to everyone's surprise, their therapist at the same agency raised some concerns with some of the behaviors of the children following visitation and the judge made no major changes with any of the children. The other foster parents were relieved and we all had a peaceful Christmas.<br />
<br />
In January 2014 Butterfly, now 9 months old, began visitation 3 times/week--twice per week with the therapist candidate and once/week at the DHS building with the whole family. We drove her to these visits every week and rarely cancelled, even though it was stressful and alot of gas $$ !<br />
<br />
I asked the therapist candidate if I could meet with her after a visit in early January. When I arrived she told me it had been Butterfly's worst visit since the last fall. She acted bewildered as to why it was so bad. We talked and I shared some of my concerns with her. I asked her why she only took little video clips when Butterfly was NOT crying in visits and why she didn't video EVERYTHING, including the visits where she was clearly distressed (like that day.) She didn't have an answer except to say that it would be too hard to video the whole visit because the court might subpoena it. (Later I wondered if her short video clips were what she used with the DHS worker and the psychologist to convince them that all was well?)<br />
<br />
She told me that her only focus was what happened in the room during the visit and nothing beyond that. So essentially it did not matter what we told her about Butterfly's difficulties with sleeping and her excessive clingingess following the visit. She told me her estimated timeline for when unsupervised and overnight visits would start, and reminded me that she was working for reunification. She took every opportunity throughout these months to remind us that she was helping the bonding process because her goal was reunification.<br />
<br />
Also, in January we met with the baby's attorney and the Assistant District Attorney who had the case in juvenile court. We expressed to them our feelings about how visits were going and that we wanted a qualified therapist involved with Butterfly, one who would listen. We also mentioned that because Butterfly had prenatal exposure to drugs and alcohol we wanted to have her evaluated in OKC at a place which specialized in children who had prenatal exposure. I thought that early intervention gives a child the best possible opportunities to overcome any hurdles that may come up. We also entertained that possibility that Butterfly's sleep difficulties and extreme stress in visits could be due to prenatal exposure. Both women thought that was a great idea. <br />
<br />
In January one of Butterfly's siblings had to leave her foster home due to the foster mother's health issues. Rather than move her to another foster home that the foster family suggested, the DHS worker moved the little girl to the biological father. This was done with no court order or approval. It turns out that the preschooler was there for about 6 weeks with no oversight. Later the DHS worker was reprimanded in court. There was also a referral called in to DHS regarding some other siblings and things that occurred during overnight visits. The DHS worker screened the referrals out.<br />
<br />
By this time we were working with a psychological clinician from Soonerstart. She visited Butterfly in our home weekly. She listened, observed, and tried to talk with all parties. She had us bring Butterfly to her office in order to observe her in a different setting with strangers, and she attempted to observe Butterfly at the therapeutic agency. However, the agency would not let her observe through a window and instead told her she had to be IN the visit, which then changed the dynamics of the visit since Butterfly knew her well and liked her. <br />
<br />
February 2014 there was another hearing. At this hearing everyone knew that the judge was going to order trial reunification to begin for the children except for Butterfly. She did. She ordered that trial reunification begin for all the siblings, happening at intervals. The oldest girl was already at the father's home, so two of the children would go next and then the other would go in March. If for some reason anything prevented trial reunification from occurring, the tribal worker wanted the kids moved out of the foster homes and into a relative's home. This relative had already had the children previously, and taken them to the shelter after 2 months of trying to care for the kids. But this same relative got approval from the court to take the children again if trial reunification with the father failed.<br />
<br />
Our home was the only ICWA compliant home because I am tribal so that was not an issue, however the tribal worker took this opportunity to again rip into us and she told the court that all of Butterfly's sensitivities were our fault.<br />
<br />
At this hearing the therapist-candidate submitted a report that the visits were going well and she had no concerns. This was after her telling me in January that it was the worst visit since fall. We were still documenting and our documentation did not match the therapist-candidate's documentation. The candidate also reported that she was going to organize a meeting with all the people involved with Butterfly to decided on how to help Butterfly overcome her distress in and following visitation, however the people surprisingly excluded from the meeting were us, her foster family--the ones who knew the baby best. The judge was surprised that we were not going to be included in the meeting and said that we should be able to attend. <br />
<br />
In February 2014 the meeting was scheduled and those invited included the DHS worker, the Soonerstart clinician, the therapist candidate and her supervisor, both parents, the psychologist, Butterfly's pediatrician, and the tribal worker. However the pediatrician, psychologist, and tribal worker did not go. The pediatrician sent a letter instead.<br />
<br />
The DHS worker called us the night before and told us that it was planned that all of the "professionals" would meet first, and then we and the parents would be called in for the last half of the meeting. She said if there was anything we wanted her to cover in the first part of the meeting to email it to her that night.<br />
<br />
I emailed her an outline of my concerns but she never printed or saw it before the meeting.<br />
<br />
So that Wednesday morning we arrived and were ushered to a waiting room while the professionals discussed the case. When we were called in, we found out that they had already determined the plan and we were just supposed to agree with it, no questions asked. Since we had been asking for months for a separate therapist just for Butterfly, they decided that my mom would bring in Butterfly an extra hour before the parent visit and the therapist candidate would be Butterfly's therapist. She would do Theraplay with Butterfly and coach my mom in that.<br />
<br />
At this meeting, the DHS worker said that she had no idea of the judge's timeline for reunification and as far as she knew, the next permanency hearing was in August which was 6 months away. The Soonerstart clinician suggested that we review how things were going after 30 days and see if there were any changes that needed to be made for Butterfly's well-being.<br />
<br />
When my mom tried to bring up the concerns that she had hoped to discuss at the meeting, which included the discrepancies between my mom's court report and the therapist candidate's court report, the DHS worker got testy and said things were settled, we were moving forward and not looking back.<br />
<br />
After discussing it at home, we decided that the plan as it was presented was only adding extra hours and not really accomplishing anything. Later we received an email that said that the therapist could not actually bill all of those hours to Soonercare, so the DHS worker was going to have to oversee one of the visits.<br />
<br />
Rather than saying no to the plan altogether, we came up with an alternative. We would stay with 3 visits per week, with the therapist overseeing two, the DHS worker overseeing one, and having Butterfly see a very experienced psychologist on our time.<br />
<br />
Both the DHS worker and her supervisor rejected that plan, saying that they absolutely did not want the psychologist we suggested involved, and that involving him would only slow down reunification.heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-7068028514386889812015-01-31T09:22:00.002-08:002015-01-31T09:32:45.709-08:00The story of Miss B part 1 For 14 months we provided a home for Miss B. We picked her up from the hospital and dealt with a crazy system for 14 months until the DHS worker arrived unannounced to take her to her biological father without giving us a chance to say goodbye.<br />
After months of trying to process those 14 months and the grief that accompanied the whole experience I have decided to write about all of it. I will not give out specific names of any of the people involved.<br />
Also, I am choosing to focus very little on the biological family in order to respect their privacy. Instead I am processing how a system that is supposed to be about "child welfare" handled her case so poorly. I will be writing this in parts, so this is Part 1.<br />
<br />
In order to maintain confidentiality, I will refer to Miss B as "Butterfly"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
**************************************************************</div>
<br />
Sunday, April 7, 2013 we got a call from DHS needing someone to pick up a 4-day old girl from the hospital. The worker on call had known our family from a few years previously, and thought we would be a good home for a newborn. Looking back, the events of that morning were so precise. Had we returned the call just minutes later, that baby girl would have gone to a different home.<br />
<br />
A newborn baby was not on my radar, and a baby girl was definitely not. I had told our DHS worker that I was interested in boys, since I still had boy clothes and boy toys, and I was especially interested in toddler boys. After praying about it we said yes, and that afternoon we brought home a teeny tiny infant girl.<br />
<br />
I had never seen such a tiny baby in my life--barely 5 lbs--and had never cared for such a little person. I had been around babies alot and raised Daniel since 2.5 months old, but little Butterfly was the smallest baby I had ever seen!<br />
<br />
We settled into routine, waking up nightly every 2 hours to feed her. She slept alot during the day and loved to be held. She was just a doll and we adored her. Within the next few weeks we were finally given info about the family and the case, and her worker came out for a visit, as well as the tribal worker. Had I known about the complexities of the case I might have said no, but when we said yes we knew nothing except that there was a baby that needed a home.<br />
<br />
Although we were told about the dysfunction surrounding the case, and the hostility being displayed by the father towards the foster families of the other siblings, for those first few months it never touched us. Butterfly had no family contact and our life was pretty normal. In fact we were told that the father was denying paternity and said even if she was his that he wanted to give her up. A paternity test revealed that he was the father and later he decided he wanted her.<br />
<br />
In late June 2013, DHS organized a "Family Group Conference" to discuss the case. I stayed home with the children but my mom attended. A tentative plan was laid out and the worker told the parents what to expect and when the next court date would be. It was also decided that Butterfly would start visits with the parents and siblings at DHS, but the plan was to also begin "therapeutic visits" between the children and parents individually, and then eventually siblings and parents together.<br />
<br />
Around this time Butterfly was also assigned her third DHS worker. So in the space of three months she had three different workers. The third worker ironically had been Daniel's permanency worker. That was a little concerning since we had a history with that worker, but we decided to be optimistic and hope for a good working relationship.<br />
<br />
The first few visits at DHS were stressful for Butterfly. There were some concerns on our part about her behavior during and/or following the visits. My mom asked to be able to overlap in the visit since the family were strangers to Butterfly now that she was almost 3 months old. The tribal worker was agreeable to that, but the DHS worker initially was adamant that my mom be out of the visit, until one time Butterfly was inconsolable and she finally called my mom back into the visit.<br />
<br />
By the end of August 2013, the therapeutic visits had been set up and Butterfly was to go for the intake. We were familiar with the agency from workshops they had hosted for foster families. I was excited to work with them because in the past we always had a good relationship, and I had thought they seemed like they had a heart for fostering and understood the needs of foster children and families.<br />
<br />
However, within the first few weeks I wrote in emails that I was concerned with the therapist-candidate (meaning she was not yet licensed) who had been assigned. She lacked experience and credentials in infant mental health, which is a unique field. I also did not think that she was interested in seeing the "big picture," instead focusing solely on what went on in the room for that 1/2 hour visit. <br />
<br />
We had experience with therapeutic visits with other qualified individuals, and the current experience with the candidate was nowhere near what previous therapists had provided.<br />
<br />
My mom asked the candidate if she could be in the visit initially since that was what was working best at DHS. Then they could slowly work her out of the visit. The candidate said no, so for weeks Butterfly cried throughout the visits with each parent. Or she would cry during the first 1/2 hour and sleep during the second 1/2 hour. The candidate frequently had an excuse for why Butterfly was crying, even though she barely knew Butterfly. And she would make assumptions that she was tired or hungry, even though we made sure we brought her well rested and fed.<br />
<br />
By this time, Fall 2013, Butterfly had two visits per week with her parents. One was at the therapeutic agency, and the second was with all the siblings at the DHS building.<br />
<br />
September 2013, Butterfly stopped sleeping through the night after a particular visit at the agency. We were documenting everything and doing daily logs. It was recorded in the August court report that Butterfly was sleeping through the night regularly. But after visits increased and then after one particular visit, I sent out an email stating that she had awakened 8 times that night and I was baffled at this sudden change. From that time on her sleep declined.<br />
<br />
The DHS worker came for her monthly visit and we told her of our concerns with the therapeutic visits as well as the sudden change in sleep patterns. We had also done research to find some very qualified infant mental health therapists in town who came highly recommended, and asked the worker if we could take Butterfly to see one of them. She said SHE would arrange it and make some calls. She never did and we never heard anything more about it.heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-35450978668520110542015-01-08T18:36:00.000-08:002015-01-08T19:48:21.001-08:00reflectionsI can still hear his voice calling for me through the house.... "Heidi? Heidi? Heidi, where are you?" he'd wander around the house calling out and then when he found me, " Oh there you is! I was wondering where you were!"<br />
<br />
For almost a week I had a little shadow that followed me everywhere. The only place I could get privacy was slipping into the bathroom and locking the door! And even then, when he'd figure out where I was he'd stand outside the door knocking, rattling the doorknob, and calling my name asking to be let inside. He hadn't yet learned that closed doors mean that you don't just barge right in!<br />
<br />
He came at almost midnight on New Year's eve which was a Wednesday. He immediately started calling my mom "grandma." I have no idea why, since no one else calls her grandma. I was Miss Heidi or else just Heidi for most of those days. He missed his real mama and would call for her in his sleep. He talked about her nonstop and carried her picture around with him, hugging it and kissing it.<br />
<br />
By the Monday after he came, he was introducing Daniel as "my brother" apparently not noticing that there was nothing about them that looked like they were related! By Monday evening the plan was for him to move to another home. That night I couldn't sleep and was dismayed at the thought of him starting the shuffle through foster care already. His little life had turned upside down so suddenly.<br />
<br />
On Tuesday he started calling me "mama." I don't know if he really knew or believed that he would be leaving the next day. But all day long on Tuesday he would look at me and say "you're my mama." I knew of course that I was in no way taking the place of his real, biological mama. No one could take her place. But he had finally settled in and was feeling safe and secure. In spite of my own weariness I guess he trusted that I would meet his needs and hug him and hold him when he was scared, so I earned the title of "mama" at least for the time that his mama was not available to him.<br />
<br />
And every time he called me mama, or would talk about "my grandma" I would cringe inside, knowing that all too soon we would be saying good-bye.<br />
<br />
On Tuesday night after he went to bed we put together a book for him to take with him. I printed the pictures I had taken while he was here. I wrote a page all about him and talked about his personality, his likes and dislikes, and everything that I thought his new caregiver would need to know. I put the picture of his mama in there, and printed out a Bible verse. We packed his bags. He had come with nothing more than dirty PJs, a coat, and some crocs with no socks. He was leaving with more than he came with. And I cried.<br />
<br />
To be honest, the 7 days that he was here were exhausting. He was the sweetest child, so loving, affectionate, and polite. But he also had habits that were different, he had fitful sleep for the first few nights, he was full of energy, and it was a huge adjustment for Daniel.<br />
<br />
Partway through his stay here, he had the worst night where he couldn't sleep, wouldn't stay in bed, and went into a rage. We took turns with him and I held him while he screamed. Eventually he quieted, and then until midnight I was rocking him on the rocking chair. He was finally peaceful but unwilling to be put down. I held him and wept for the injustices that rob these children of a peaceful, stable childhood.<br />
<br />
He came not knowing about God, not having a church background. We took him to church with us on Sunday and the teachers said that he did so well in class. He had the best time and sang the songs he learned over and over again. He began praying with us at bedtime, and praying before meals. He was blossoming.<br />
<br />
He was brave through trauma. He was brave when it was time to leave and go in a strange car with a person he had met only once. I held it together until he left and then as they drove down the street the tears came. <br />
<br />
People say, "how do you do that? I could never foster." But you could if God asked you to. I'm nothing special or out of the ordinary. I get tired, weary. Some days this past week I thought I had absolutely nothing left to give to either boy. And in my own strength, I didn't. I am convinced that God does ask us to do things that are too hard for us to do in our own strength because then we rely on him.<br />
<br />
The sorrow when he left was not just because I missed him, although I did. It was sorrow for him and the lack of stability in his life right now. It was sorrow that I wish I could save the world. But I can't and I know that. I wish every child could be loved well and not have to have trauma. I don't have the love, the strength, the resources to make an incredible difference. All I can do is one small part and put the rest in God's hands. For me, that is hard because I want to see the end result <i>now</i>, I don't want to trust that my small part will be one piece of a greater story.<br />
<br />
So life goes on and now I'm back to planning other things, setting goals, organizing my life and work and family, enjoying friends and fellowship.<br />
<br />
And prayer....now I add him to my prayers for Miss B. Although we do hope to stay part of his life and be able to be a support to his mama and hopefully she will be able to have him back. Lord willing, he will have a consistent home for now where he will be nurtured until it comes time to decide permanency. In this case I do hope for reunification. I hope that he will not be a statistic but that this will be a turning point for both him and his mama.heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-91262353745704578162015-01-02T12:24:00.000-08:002015-01-02T13:30:09.250-08:00fostering adventure for the new yearOver Christmas break we've gotten more calls from DHS than at any other time in these last 6 months since Miss B left.<br />
<br />
On New Year's Eve I was so tired and had no plans to stay up until midnight. I could not wait to get to bed! But as I was cleaning up, we got a call a little after 10PM because a little boy had just been picked up by the police at a crime scene and they needed immediate placement.<br />
<br />
The laws in Oklahoma state the children under 6 are not to stay in the shelter so they try to get them into homes immediately. He was outside of the age range of what we had specified for a child we could take, but they said it would be temporary as they searched for a kinship placement for him.<br />
<br />
He came after 11PM that night and we spent some time getting acquainted and trying to figure out sleeping arrangements and clothing. He came with what he had on, and the worker brought a pair of shorts, underwear, and a t-shirt from the shelter. Ironically I had JUST given away all of Daniel's too-small clothes.<br />
<br />
Finally by 12:30AM he was in bed and asleep. However he began crying in his sleep two times during the night and had to be comforted. I felt for the little guy, witnessing violence, missing his mommy, being taken by the police and put in a strange home. I can't imagine how overwhelming that would be for a preschool aged child.<br />
<br />
It has been a couple days of adjustment, scrambling to get clothes, waiting on knowing what is going to happen with him, and trying to integrate a new person in the house.<br />
<br />
The most heartbreaking thing is that he is processing what went on in his home that night and seems to dream about it. He also misses his mother terribly. He talks about her a lot, but it is unlikely that he will be living with her anytime soon.<br />
<br />
I was able to download her picture and print it off for him. He shrieked with delight and has carried that picture around the house, hugging it, kissing it, and talking to it and about her. Today it was surprisingly easy to get him to his bed for "quiet time." When it became quiet--after he was "reading" his books for a little while--I looked over at him and he was asleep and clutching the picture of his mama.<br />
<br />
It brings tears to my eyes to see both the affect of witnessing violence on this little guy, as well as his normal and strong desire to see and be with his mommy.<br />
<br />
I hate that some parents make such mistakes that their children pay the price and that both the parent and child end up in these situations.<br />
<br />
I pray that this little man is able to go to a suitable relative, or a long term home that would be the very best for him, to help him heal and grow. And that his mother will get the help she needs. <br />
<br />
(Here he is asleep with his mommy's picture, turned over)<br />
<br />
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<br />heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-3601616321685569782014-12-11T18:22:00.002-08:002014-12-11T18:22:39.457-08:00A 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.<br />
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<br />
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....<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
Now I feel like I am picking up the pieces of life again and figuring out what is next...<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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"...weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning...." (Ps 30:5b) believing that it will be true.<br />
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heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-39065343093575368712014-11-26T11:30:00.002-08:002014-11-26T11:30:55.590-08:00Thanksgiving<i><span class="text Phil-4-6" id="en-NIV-29449"><sup class="versenum">6 </sup>Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.</span> <span class="text Phil-4-7" id="en-NIV-29450"><sup class="versenum">7 </sup>And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="text Phil-4-7" id="en-NIV-29450">.... </span><span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. (Phil 4)</span></i><br />
<i><span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span></i>
<br />
<div class="lr_dct_sf_h">
<i>adjective</i></div>
<div class="xpdxpnd vk_gy" data-mh="-1">
<span>adjective: <b>content</b></span></div>
<div style="float: left;">
<strong>1</strong>. </div>
<div data-dobid="dfn" style="display: inline;">
<span>in a state of peaceful happiness.</span></div>
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"<span>he seemed more content, less bitter</span>"</div>
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<tr><td class="lr_dct_nyms_ttl" style="padding-right: 3px;">synonyms:</td><td><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+contented&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CB8Q_SowAA">contented</a>, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+satisfied&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCAQ_SowAA">satisfied</a>, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+pleased&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCEQ_SowAA">pleased</a>, </span><span>gratified, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+fulfilled&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCIQ_SowAA">fulfilled</a>, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+happy&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCMQ_SowAA">happy</a>, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+cheerful&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCQQ_SowAA">cheerful</a>, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+glad&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCUQ_SowAA">glad</a></span><span>;</span><span> </span><span data-log-string="synonyms-more-click"><div style="display: inline;">
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<div class="lr_dct_more_txt xpdxpnd xpdnoxpnd" data-mh="-1" style="display: inline; max-height: none;">
<span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+unworried&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCcQ_SowAA">unworried</a>, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+untroubled&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCgQ_SowAA">untroubled</a>, </span><span>at ease, </span><span>at peace, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+tranquil&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCkQ_SowAA">tranquil</a>, </span><span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&q=define+serene&sa=X&ei=cyZ2VJDlD6SGigL9qYHYCw&ved=0CCoQ_SowAA">serene</a></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><span style="color: #0000ee;">Thanks<span style="color: #0000ee;">giving</span></span> 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.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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 <span style="color: #0000ee;">plan</span> and the judge was favorable to this request. </span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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.</span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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. </span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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. </span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">Things became much harder in the case after that though, and from then on it was like the beginning of the end. </span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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. </span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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. </span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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. </span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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.</span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454">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.</span><br />
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<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"> </span><br />
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>
<span class="text Phil-4-11" id="en-NIV-29454"><br /></span>heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-73505578766562835612014-11-20T09:18:00.003-08:002014-11-21T15:43:59.068-08:00 I sat down to write, saw this post from a couple of months ago that I never finished, so here it is.....<br />
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<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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. heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-84526521951313080222014-08-24T20:37:00.000-07:002014-08-24T20:37:04.175-07:00<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">
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!<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. </div>
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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.<br /></div>
heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-56250511403221144312014-08-01T12:42:00.001-07:002014-08-01T15:09:27.782-07:00loving from far awayNothing has stretched me and taught me about sacrificial and love and forgiveness as much as my fostering experience these last 16 months.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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."<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
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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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-56640918295946276692014-07-24T19:50:00.002-07:002014-07-24T19:50:26.264-07:00beautiful in His timeIt'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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Within a few months I was shocked to see this story on this news, because this toddler was that little boy:<br />
<br />
http://www.kjrh.com/news/local-news/angela-cicone-arrested-after-toddler-son-suffers-repeated-injuries<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-77598328289515926112014-07-07T18:31:00.001-07:002014-07-24T19:54:09.668-07:00why i will never be a plumberI'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.)<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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! <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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)<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Here's a pic from probably the last time we fixed a faucet....<br />
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<br />heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-9104700045799899072014-06-30T17:38:00.000-07:002014-06-30T17:38:27.139-07:00 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!<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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?<br />
<br />
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? <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
In the middle of these hard, hard weeks I still have hope. heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-747784527692057632014-06-18T20:43:00.000-07:002014-06-18T21:11:44.760-07:00fight with loveAnother 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I still can't look at her closet or watch videos. Sometimes I can talk about her other times it just makes me cry. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
As I was praying tonight this phrase came to mind: <i>fight with love</i>. 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.<br />
<br />
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?<br />
<br />
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 <i>in me</i> for His glory.heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-85917881269664079472014-06-13T07:28:00.003-07:002014-06-13T07:28:55.032-07:00I have heard that nothing compares to the pain of losing a child. I think it must be true.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">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. </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">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. </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">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.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">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.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">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.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">So today we keep moving forward and when the time is right we can talk and tell the whole story.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">Baby girl, I miss you more than words can say. You deserved so much more than what life handed you these last 14 months.</span>heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-17062024470352039502014-05-16T20:16:00.000-07:002014-05-16T20:16:57.581-07:00It's been four months since I've posted anything here. Four long months. Four of the hardest, most chaotic months of my life.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
And in the meanwhile, we document and document and document some more. And we hope and we pray.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-34821276569827849252014-01-16T10:10:00.000-08:002014-01-16T10:10:44.095-08:00tired.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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
But because I know He is, I will choose to have hope. And ask for strength each day!heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-79216423755877883482013-12-09T12:16:00.000-08:002013-12-09T12:16:39.017-08:00do not grow weary...<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart. Gal 6:9</span></i><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">A few weeks ago while sharing in my Sunday School class I said that if you had told me one year ago what I would be experiencing today in terms of fostering a baby with a complicated case I would have said, <i>no way</i>. I am absolutely not strong enough to go through that again. And it's true; I'm not. I feel like every day I have to rely on God's grace! If you had asked me on April 7th if I would like to go to the hospital the next day to pick up a newborn baby girl and then I would be part of a very complicated case, riding the emotional roller coaster, living from court hearing to court hearing, thinking about therapists, caseworkers, attorneys, Cherokee Nation, parent/child visitation, barely getting any sleep, I would have said I can't do that!! </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">But if I could rewind these past 8 months and say no thank you to this life I have today would I? No, not at all. I love Miss Baby B, now 8 months old and full of life, and I'm committed now to love, fight, pray. </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I have days though where I am so weary in "doing good." Some days I feel like I sacrifice so much and wonder if it will be worth it in this life. Tonight my mom was reading aloud the verse which speaks of taking up your cross to follow Christ. Miss B is NOT a cross, she is pure joy, but sometimes the circumstances that surround her life feel like a heavy, heavy burden. If this is my cross right now though, I'll be grateful that my cross comes with a beautiful, cuddly baby girl! </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I try to be a positive person, and I feel like even in the bad days one can always find something to be grateful for. I really try to live by that and in fostering, even after the worst court hearings, I have looked for the one thing that I can thank God for. There is always something.</span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">But I just had one of those days where things were so overwhelming and life felt so serious that I just wanted to quit. I thought WHY am I cloistering away spending time in prayer and fasting over a child that is not my own and missing out on ____________?? (that blank could be filled with many things.) I am tired, tired of being responsible, of caring, of putting my heart on the line. The rest of the world is having fun doing a million different things and I feel like a nun! I was working myself into a real pity party.</span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">And then I looked into B's sweet face, so full of trust and I thought yes, I can press on one day at a time for this one. God gave me this one to love and there is probably no one else in the world who cares for her as much as we do. When God brought Daniel in 2007, I gave him my all, and he continues to take a lot of prayer, energy, and love! </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">There is a time and season for everything and I guess this season includes juggling life with much prayer and advocating for a helpless baby. And it's all good. </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">God's grace is sufficient for each day. Another big court hearing is coming up in one week and if it means continued fasting, nightly prayer, and multiple appointments then this is what God has put in my hands for right now and He'll give the strength to keep pressing on.</span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">When you think of it please pray for us and baby girl as we approach a December 16th court hearing. 15 minutes in a court room can completely turn a life around for better or worse. My trust is in God and He has not failed to come through.</span>heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-21480807245539400692013-10-13T16:48:00.001-07:002013-10-13T16:52:34.427-07:00It takes a village....I had one day this past week where I woke up and thought, why am I fostering?
Understand, it has nothing to do with the baby. Everyone in our house
loves her, enjoys her and we would do anything for her. As I told someone today though, if I were ever encouraging someone to get involved in fostering I would not hide from them the fact that it is hard and dealing with the child welfare system can be very frustrating! <br />
<br />
In
recent years there have been more support groups forming for foster
families. These groups serve a huge purpose because fellow foster families can lend
understanding, knowledge, advice, and when you need to "vent" no one gets
it like another foster parent. When I started fostering in 2006 this amount of support from fellow foster families did not exist, and neither did the partnerships between churches and DHS. <br />
<br />
However, I feel like there is still room for more support for foster parents. Last weekend I was grateful to have the opportunity to share about fostering and adoption at my church's ladies' retreat. As I was thinking of what I wanted to talk about, I realized that not everyone is called to take in a child, but there are so many ways to still be involved.<br />
<br />
I really believe that when it comes to the abused and neglected children in our community, it truly takes a village. A speaker I heard recently said that for every one family that is recruited to take in a child or children, there need to be about five or six families supporting them or they will not last. I truly believe it.<br />
<br />
Because of the stress involved in Baby B's "case" I keep thinking that after things are resolved I will take a break from active fostering. But I still want to be involved, and not only would I love to be able to encourage more people to open their homes because the need is great, but I would also love to work on gathering more support for foster families from those who may not be in a position to open their home but still have a heart for that cause. When I shared at the ladies' retreat, I mentioned some of the following ways that people can offer support. We have had people do all of these at various times and it has been such a blessing when people have come alongside to be a part of loving a child!<br />
<br />
***Bring a meal--getting a new child--or "placement"--is a pretty big deal. Often there is not a lot of notice and it pretty much turns the house upside down to integrate a new person! With Daniel we got about 5 hours notice before the CW brought him. Then this past year we had about 2 hours notice for Little N, and about 2 hours notice to pick up Baby B from the hospital. Suddenly there is a new person with new needs and sometimes a foster family has to scramble to find clothes and equipment. The first few weeks that Baby B was here I was exhausted. We had just brought a newborn home from the hospital but without the months to prepare. I still had to work (foster parents don't get maternity leave!) and keep up a normal schedule. Things got pretty crazy. But I was SO GRATEFUL for friends who offered to bring over dinner. It was one less thing to think about.<br />
<br />
***Offer to babysit--Daniel's case required many, many court hearings. During some of the more intense times we had several in one month; it can get expensive to always be hiring sitters. Several different friends offered to come over and stay with him and it was a blessing to know that he was in good hands. I had other friends who told me that if I ever just needed time out or to do some errands or get a haircut that they would be happy to care for him.<br />
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***Ask how things are going--foster parents have to respect confidentiality, but I am still grateful when people ask me how things are. It lets me know they care and gives me opportunity to ask for prayer which leads to the following....<br />
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***Ask how you can pray--more than babysitting, food, or baby clothes, prayer is the thing that means the most to me. Foster parents often love the children like their own, and it is vitally important to us that things turn out well for them. I know that happens through prayer, and when people ask how they can pray or they let me know that they prayed for the last court date or meeting I am so grateful. Or when they do pray and then follow up to ask how things went it means alot.<br />
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***Be another caring adult in the child's life. Whether it's little ones or teenagers, children in foster care need love. When we did respite for teens I appreciated the adults in our lives who showed kindness to them. One family who invited us to their home one evening with one of our teenage girls, responded with such grace when she stole a cell phone from their house! It turned out to be a time of healing and growth for that young lady. I am grateful for the families who now surround Daniel with love. I am grateful for my single friends who are happy to include him and talk with him. I am grateful for various men who have affirmed him as a boy and shown him "manly" things. People are often surprised that DHS allows single women to foster and adopt. I am not a feminist and I don't pretend that it is ideal for a child to be in a single parent home. It's not. But more and more single women are becoming foster and adoptive parents. As I told someone recently, if we waited for only two parent "ideal" homes, there would be a lot more children in the shelter! And as more single women are fostering or adopting, there is a need for male influence in the lives of boys that may be in a single parent home. My knowledge of tools, football, cars, and other guy things only goes so far and when I look down the road to Daniel's teenage years I already know that in addition to needing God, he is going to continue to need good male role-models and mentors in his life or it's going to be hard for him to make it. <br />
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And then there are many other ways that different people have been a blessing, from doing house repairs, to including Daniel in their family's activities, doing yardwork, or writing a sweet note of encouragement. I keep one such note on my dresser in which part of it reads "I love...watching God work through your heart and open hands. Keep persevering!"<br />
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These are some specific ways I thought of to support foster/adoptive families. But I also mentioned volunteering at the shelter in my city as well as volunteering as a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate)<br />
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Of course not everyone is called to be involved in fostering. It is something I am passionate about and I hope that I can inspire those who may share my passion to be involved. Whether it's making a difference in the lives of children in foster care or some other completely different mission, I hope I can encourage others to make a difference in their world. heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-8175377005061554502013-09-17T19:49:00.002-07:002013-09-17T19:49:29.214-07:00Just recently I was reminded of something that happened when I was a young teen. At the time I was an aspiring entertainer/musician. I was very much into music as a fiddler, pianist, and singer and had big ambitions to be on stage, practicing constantly and taking every opportunity I could find to perform.<br />
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I was at a small church service with my mom when, at the end, I was called out for prayer. Call it a "prophecy", "word of knowledge" or prayer....but the man who was praying for me said that he believed that God was calling me into "messy" places and that God would use my hands to bring healing. Well I was totally not interested in going into "messy" places and as far as I was concerned my hands were being used to play music and that was what I lived for. <br />
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Fast forward 15 years and these days I feel like I am dealing with "messy." God has done so much to change me from the selfish teenager who lived to be on stage and thrived on the attention, to someone who is willing to live for something bigger than myself. God's grace. God placed a passion in my heart for working in the child welfare/foster system. (How do I know it's a passion? because if I get started talking about it I won't shut up. I'm sure there are those who wish I would!) <br />
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Some days I think "why me?!" but it's a call I cannot escape and most days I am so grateful for the blessing of loving little lives. There are times though that the burden is so heavy and the messiness is almost more than I want to deal with. It is a broken system, attempting to fix hurting people and often the system fails those that it tries to help.<br />
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Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be able to love a baby without having to wonder how long it is going to last. Will loving babies always be accompanied fear and uncertainty? Maybe I will not foster in the years to come, but I know my heart will always be there and I will always be involved in some form.<br />
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In the midst of a messy situation now, I have found that God has worked a greater work of love and compassion in my heart. I can be so heavy on the side of "justice," unable to see that behind a biological parent who has failed their child, is a person who is also hurting and lost. It doesn't mean that I think that every biological parent should be able to parent when they are unable to provide the stability that their child needs. But it does mean that I think they deserve love and to be respected as a fellow human. My sin may not be the same as their sin, but I have sinned as well.<br />
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With my current baby, much to my surprise I have found myself shedding tears on her parents' behalf. I hate the sin the ripped the family apart and continues to bring strife and ugliness. I hate the fact that the baby girl feels so safe and looks at me with such happiness, trust, and peace and everything in me wants to protect her from anything that would shatter her peace. Did her parents fail her? yes. Can they provide a safe and stable home in the future? I don't know. But somehow I feel compassion for the fact that this probably wasn't the life they envisioned for themselves or their children. Yet they suffer the consequences of sin. It's sad.<br />
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I don't know what the future holds. Today I am rejoicing that God's hand of protection continues to be on the baby. Today I look at how far Daniel has come and I rejoice that his future is good. Being a single parent of one was hard; mothering two is exhausting. I'm overwhelmed much of the time and never seem to find the end of my to-do list! But in the midst of tiredness, mess, and uncertainty I am finding that the joy of the Lord is truly my strength. It's funny how one can somehow find joy even in the mess. <br />
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<br />heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5816183483277128756.post-52299672191265096182013-08-29T20:13:00.001-07:002013-08-29T20:13:23.982-07:00It has been a long week. And I feel like I am looking ahead to many long weeks and wondering how I got here. I have no regrets but possibly a little panic. It feels like I have been here before in an impossible situation and constantly battling fearful thoughts and anxiety. I do not feel strong at all. I wish that I could see the future because blind faith is not one of my strengths, and I pretty much hate every exercise in blind faith!<br />
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After I adopted Daniel I said I would never, never foster again. Adopt maybe, but never, ever, EVER foster. Then eventually I softened and said ok maybe someday waaayyyy down the road I would consider it. and then somehow last year God completely changed my heart. I don't even know how or when it happened, I just knew I was ready again. Or at least I thought I was!<br />
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Little baby girl, Miss B, has been here almost 5 months now, and the familiar anxieties and fears, everything I experienced during Daniel's "case" are coming back...even working with some of the same people! I kind of thought this time around I would get a child with an easy case...is there ever anything easy with DHS? apparently not. And by easy I only mean that either it would go one way or the other, there would be safety and progress or not, reunification looked likely and good, or not. But no, I guess God thought if one messy case was good then two would be even better. ::sigh::<br />
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When even the caseworkers say it's going to be long and messy then you know you're not imagining things. When everyone says it's complicated and they can't even fathom a good, workable outcome that everyone feels good about....then what? I'm trying not to freak out.<br />
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And I think really? I thought I would adopt Daniel and go back to my happy, predictable life and just go back to "normal"....but here I am. I love the baby and I am committed to see this through but sometimes I wish I could close my eyes and all the mess would just go away. Far, far away. Is this going to be another two years of my life? If they move too fast everyone knows it would put the children's safety in jeopardy. But drag it out and it's a high stress waiting game. <br />
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I love my daily life, really....but I also daily need grace, peace, faith, hope, trust....heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07526918409576785338noreply@blogger.com0