I 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!"
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 now, I don't want to trust that my small part will be one piece of a greater story.
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.
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.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Friday, January 2, 2015
fostering adventure for the new year
Over Christmas break we've gotten more calls from DHS than at any other time in these last 6 months since Miss B left.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
(Here he is asleep with his mommy's picture, turned over)
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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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
(Here he is asleep with his mommy's picture, turned over)
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Thursday, December 11, 2014
A few weeks ago I pulled out my poetry journal. I used to write in it frequently; bits and pieces of thoughts, poetry, pieces of songs, and prayers are scattered through the pages. It's been a while since I've looked at it, much less written in it.
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This past year has been full of ups and downs, and altogether it has probably been one of the hardest and most intense years of my life. I have had strong faith, weak faith, had days that I felt I had no faith left. I've felt sure of God and His presence and had other days where I've felt so alone. I've believed God's Word with all of my heart, and then a few days later questioned if it was even true. I've felt deep anger and then chose to forgive, and then had to forgive again....and again....
Ever since I saw Miss B for the last time on June 2, it has been a struggle to focus on the good without letting all the ugliness of the case drown out the happy memories. I frequently hold back tears when I talk about her even 6 months later.
Fostering was something that was so close to my heart the past 8 years. From April 2013 until June 2014 I poured my life into Daniel and Miss B. During the 14 months I had Miss B, from a newborn until a toddler, I had very few full nights of sleep; now I look back with fondess on the nights that I held her and soothed her back to sleep. My days were busy taking care of the two kids, in addition to working and everything else that happens in life. My heart was happy and my days were full.
After she abruptly left, it felt like my heart had been ripped out and crushed. During these past summer months we were in court a lot, but after it was over I retreated and stopped talking about any of it. Answering questions about her was tough, and even thinking about her brought back all of the heartache and stress that was involved in those 14 months of fostering her.
Now I feel like I am picking up the pieces of life again and figuring out what is next...
So I pulled out my poetry notebook and looked back through the pages. The last song I had started was for Miss B, but it was unfinished when she left and I couldn't bring myself to look at it again for several months. Maybe I can start to finish it. Or maybe other songs will come out instead.
But I feel like perhaps it is time to start putting some of the thoughts on paper again. And even though I've tried to shove much of the bad memories aside of the dealings with DHS etc I'm thinking maybe it is time to start writing about it, leaving names out of course. Even after several years of being involved in fostering and seeing alot of sad things, I honestly never knew that such depths of ugliness existed within the child welfare system, and it has left me wondering how much I can be involved again. The need is great, but some of the things we experienced in last year were so crazy they were almost unbelievable. However I keep praying that good will come of it all, and there will be beauty in place of ashes and sorrow.
"...weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning...." (Ps 30:5b) believing that it will be true.
This past year has been full of ups and downs, and altogether it has probably been one of the hardest and most intense years of my life. I have had strong faith, weak faith, had days that I felt I had no faith left. I've felt sure of God and His presence and had other days where I've felt so alone. I've believed God's Word with all of my heart, and then a few days later questioned if it was even true. I've felt deep anger and then chose to forgive, and then had to forgive again....and again....
Ever since I saw Miss B for the last time on June 2, it has been a struggle to focus on the good without letting all the ugliness of the case drown out the happy memories. I frequently hold back tears when I talk about her even 6 months later.
Fostering was something that was so close to my heart the past 8 years. From April 2013 until June 2014 I poured my life into Daniel and Miss B. During the 14 months I had Miss B, from a newborn until a toddler, I had very few full nights of sleep; now I look back with fondess on the nights that I held her and soothed her back to sleep. My days were busy taking care of the two kids, in addition to working and everything else that happens in life. My heart was happy and my days were full.
After she abruptly left, it felt like my heart had been ripped out and crushed. During these past summer months we were in court a lot, but after it was over I retreated and stopped talking about any of it. Answering questions about her was tough, and even thinking about her brought back all of the heartache and stress that was involved in those 14 months of fostering her.
Now I feel like I am picking up the pieces of life again and figuring out what is next...
So I pulled out my poetry notebook and looked back through the pages. The last song I had started was for Miss B, but it was unfinished when she left and I couldn't bring myself to look at it again for several months. Maybe I can start to finish it. Or maybe other songs will come out instead.
But I feel like perhaps it is time to start putting some of the thoughts on paper again. And even though I've tried to shove much of the bad memories aside of the dealings with DHS etc I'm thinking maybe it is time to start writing about it, leaving names out of course. Even after several years of being involved in fostering and seeing alot of sad things, I honestly never knew that such depths of ugliness existed within the child welfare system, and it has left me wondering how much I can be involved again. The need is great, but some of the things we experienced in last year were so crazy they were almost unbelievable. However I keep praying that good will come of it all, and there will be beauty in place of ashes and sorrow.
"...weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning...." (Ps 30:5b) believing that it will be true.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Thanksgiving
6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
.... for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. (Phil 4)
Thanksgiving last year we were thanking God for an amazing answer to prayer. This year I am still reeling from the events of this past year, and learning to give thanks and be content when I am not on a mountain top of answered prayer.
One year ago, Miss B was 7.5 months old. She had been seeing her biological father for one hour supervised visits for about 5 months. The had only recently become consistent visits and most of the time she cried for most, if not all, of the hour. He barely knew her habits and did not ask about her daily life. So we were shocked when the DHS worker told us that the tribe had requested that Miss B and her siblings be sent for a Thanksgiving visit an hour away at his house for 5 nights! The tribal worker was adamant that this plan and the judge was favorable to this request.
We begged the worker to appeal the decision and said we would drive Miss B to his house the day after Thanksgiving and let him have her for the day. But it was too much for the baby to go from one hour supervised visits to almost a week of unsupervised time.
We were praying, our friends were praying, and the night before Miss B would have left for the visit, the worker called and said that the therapist submitted a letter to the judge explaining that it would not be in the baby's best interest to go on the extended visit. The four siblings went, but Miss B would stay with us.
I was so relieved. All day on Thanksgiving day I was thanking God for that answered prayer and delighting in every moment with Miss B.
Things became much harder in the case after that though, and from then on it was like the beginning of the end.
This year I have so much to be thankful for, but she is still never far from my thoughts and I still tear up when I talk about her.
This year I am learning to be thankful and trust God in the day to day when prayers are seemingly unanswered. Or at least not answered in the way I thought they would be.
Recently I was part of a study on Philippians 4, and the verses about not being anxious and being content in all circumstances were the basis of a rich discussion. Many thoughts that were shared have stayed with me, especially the ones related to being content when life is just plain hard.... In those times when we think things should be better and they are not, or it seems that God has left a prayer unanswered for no good reason. The times where it seemed that God should have had your back, and instead things turned out badly and you still have to trust Him.
This past summer was hard, but at least I had a cause to fight for. Going to court 5 different times provided some sense of meaning in the face of what seemed to be unjust. Now that is all over, and in the aftermath I am learning to say to God, You are still good and I will trust.
Thanksgiving this year will be different. In fact for my family it is going to be an unlike previous Thanksgivings, but I wanted to experience it differently this year.
Next year may be another mountain top year. And if it is, I will thank God. Whether mountain or valley, I hope I am learning in whatever state I am in, to be content, because if Jesus is the center then we have everything.
.... for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. (Phil 4)
adjective
adjective: content
1.
in a state of peaceful happiness.
"he seemed more content, less bitter"
| synonyms: | contented, satisfied, pleased, gratified, fulfilled, happy, cheerful, glad; |
Thanksgiving last year we were thanking God for an amazing answer to prayer. This year I am still reeling from the events of this past year, and learning to give thanks and be content when I am not on a mountain top of answered prayer.
One year ago, Miss B was 7.5 months old. She had been seeing her biological father for one hour supervised visits for about 5 months. The had only recently become consistent visits and most of the time she cried for most, if not all, of the hour. He barely knew her habits and did not ask about her daily life. So we were shocked when the DHS worker told us that the tribe had requested that Miss B and her siblings be sent for a Thanksgiving visit an hour away at his house for 5 nights! The tribal worker was adamant that this plan and the judge was favorable to this request.
We begged the worker to appeal the decision and said we would drive Miss B to his house the day after Thanksgiving and let him have her for the day. But it was too much for the baby to go from one hour supervised visits to almost a week of unsupervised time.
We were praying, our friends were praying, and the night before Miss B would have left for the visit, the worker called and said that the therapist submitted a letter to the judge explaining that it would not be in the baby's best interest to go on the extended visit. The four siblings went, but Miss B would stay with us.
I was so relieved. All day on Thanksgiving day I was thanking God for that answered prayer and delighting in every moment with Miss B.
Things became much harder in the case after that though, and from then on it was like the beginning of the end.
This year I have so much to be thankful for, but she is still never far from my thoughts and I still tear up when I talk about her.
This year I am learning to be thankful and trust God in the day to day when prayers are seemingly unanswered. Or at least not answered in the way I thought they would be.
Recently I was part of a study on Philippians 4, and the verses about not being anxious and being content in all circumstances were the basis of a rich discussion. Many thoughts that were shared have stayed with me, especially the ones related to being content when life is just plain hard.... In those times when we think things should be better and they are not, or it seems that God has left a prayer unanswered for no good reason. The times where it seemed that God should have had your back, and instead things turned out badly and you still have to trust Him.
This past summer was hard, but at least I had a cause to fight for. Going to court 5 different times provided some sense of meaning in the face of what seemed to be unjust. Now that is all over, and in the aftermath I am learning to say to God, You are still good and I will trust.
Thanksgiving this year will be different. In fact for my family it is going to be an unlike previous Thanksgivings, but I wanted to experience it differently this year.
Next year may be another mountain top year. And if it is, I will thank God. Whether mountain or valley, I hope I am learning in whatever state I am in, to be content, because if Jesus is the center then we have everything.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
I sat down to write, saw this post from a couple of months ago that I never finished, so here it is.....
today I have a lot of thoughts that are kind of all over the place. so I'm just going to write. no editing. no real point here. just rambling.
Last night we watched some old videos from my violin performances in college. I was a chubby cheeked 21 year old, caught up in music, playing volleyball with friends, leading a girls' Bible study, and loving God. Those were the happy days, I was so innocent and unaware of how life would take some crazy turns in the coming years. I had some turbulent years between ages 23-24 where I struggled with depression but came out on the other side stronger and shortly after that got interested in fostering. At that time I finally figured out "what I wanted to be when I grew up" and started finishing my bachelor's degree.
Now several years later I've come through one of the hardest years, which culminated in the hardest month ever. A couple of weeks ago I honestly did not know if my faith in God would survive. The hurt, anger, disappointment, exhaustion were overwhelming.
It wasn't just the fact that Miss B left. Of course it rips a foster parent's heart out to have a child removed that you have cared for since bringing them home from the hospital. But that goes with the territory of fostering. But having her removed with no notice, being lied about, treated with hatefulness, misunderstood, and then knowing that she was treated with so little regard, all contributed to feeling abandoned by God.
So these last weeks have been a crisis of faith that I believe is resolving in a stronger faith than before. When hard times come that cause you to question your theology along with everything you thought you believed, it becomes a turning point. Two weeks ago I thought that turning point was the end of my faith as I knew it. I wanted to walk away, throw it all away. But God has kept a hold on me and even though I still have hard days, I'm coming out stronger.
In fact as of this week I know that this story is far from over. I don't know how it will end but I know this is not the end. I am still believing God for big things and the results are going to be greater than just my family or one child.
today I have a lot of thoughts that are kind of all over the place. so I'm just going to write. no editing. no real point here. just rambling.
Last night we watched some old videos from my violin performances in college. I was a chubby cheeked 21 year old, caught up in music, playing volleyball with friends, leading a girls' Bible study, and loving God. Those were the happy days, I was so innocent and unaware of how life would take some crazy turns in the coming years. I had some turbulent years between ages 23-24 where I struggled with depression but came out on the other side stronger and shortly after that got interested in fostering. At that time I finally figured out "what I wanted to be when I grew up" and started finishing my bachelor's degree.
Now several years later I've come through one of the hardest years, which culminated in the hardest month ever. A couple of weeks ago I honestly did not know if my faith in God would survive. The hurt, anger, disappointment, exhaustion were overwhelming.
It wasn't just the fact that Miss B left. Of course it rips a foster parent's heart out to have a child removed that you have cared for since bringing them home from the hospital. But that goes with the territory of fostering. But having her removed with no notice, being lied about, treated with hatefulness, misunderstood, and then knowing that she was treated with so little regard, all contributed to feeling abandoned by God.
So these last weeks have been a crisis of faith that I believe is resolving in a stronger faith than before. When hard times come that cause you to question your theology along with everything you thought you believed, it becomes a turning point. Two weeks ago I thought that turning point was the end of my faith as I knew it. I wanted to walk away, throw it all away. But God has kept a hold on me and even though I still have hard days, I'm coming out stronger.
In fact as of this week I know that this story is far from over. I don't know how it will end but I know this is not the end. I am still believing God for big things and the results are going to be greater than just my family or one child.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
This past week was the four year anniversary of Daniel's adoption. Truthfully the date slips by me every year because the day itself made legal what seemed to already exist. I had him since infancy, so by the time he was 3.5 yrs old he was already "mine" in my heart!
We have of course prayed that he would grow to love God and choose to follow Jesus. But I have been careful to not pressure him because I didn't want him to make that choice to please me or to fit in at church. I truly wanted it to be his choice from his heart.
I can tell it is something he has been thinking about though. Tonight when we were doing our Bible time before bed, he started asking more questions. We talked, I explained, I read Scripture, he listened, he thought...and he decided that this was the night he wanted to give his life to Christ and follow Jesus.
We have of course prayed that he would grow to love God and choose to follow Jesus. But I have been careful to not pressure him because I didn't want him to make that choice to please me or to fit in at church. I truly wanted it to be his choice from his heart.
I can tell it is something he has been thinking about though. Tonight when we were doing our Bible time before bed, he started asking more questions. We talked, I explained, I read Scripture, he listened, he thought...and he decided that this was the night he wanted to give his life to Christ and follow Jesus.
In the midst of one of the hardest years, and when our family has endured some difficult things, God has been working in Daniel's heart. I am grateful.
Friday, August 1, 2014
loving from far away
Nothing has stretched me and taught me about sacrificial and love and forgiveness as much as my fostering experience these last 16 months.
Tomorrow she will have been gone for 2 months. I miss my baby girl more than anything. I think about her every day, it seems like 'round the clock. And yet I don't cry much anymore. Not like I did in the first few weeks anyway.
The last few weeks we have gone out of town, tried to prepare for the upcoming school year, attempted to bring some kind of organization to life, and focused on building ourselves back up spiritually, physically, and emotionally.
I have questioned my faith, been disappointed in humanity, struggled to forgive, been disillusioned by those who call themselves Christians and act like the devil, done a lot of reading....and eventually have come through stronger. It's still a process though.
These precious little hands are the hands of a toddler now. 16 months old. I would give anything to kiss those hands again or hold those little fingers.
Next week is court hearing #4 regarding Little Miss. The whole case has been bizarre and I think it is nearly unprecedented to have a series of hearings still going on after a child has been put in a biological parent's home for "trial reunification."
So I take it that God is asking me to still pray fervently for her, for the situation, and trust that there is a purpose in all of this...even though I'm not exactly sure what that purpose is as the moment.
The good is that I still get to hear how she is doing at these hearings. For her sake I want everything to be ok. What I hear makes my heart hurt for her and her siblings, but I pray, pray, pray that she is being protected even in the middle of a situation that does not sound good to me.
This series of hearings has been brutal. So much accusation, ugliness, twisting of truth, and plain meanness. I am reading a book that talks of forgiveness, and it is a concept I have been working through now for weeks. It was a comfort to realize that forgiveness does not deny that a person was hurt or wronged. Forgiveness says, yeah you did act like a jerk, you did hurt me, but I choose to let go of anger and retaliation. Forgiveness does not mean that we have to be best buddies or that I even have to trust you again, but it does mean that I choose not to hate you for how you've treated me.
And gradually I have found that when I make the choice to forgive those who have been so cruel, or have lied to my face, or who have slandered our family, that God's grace comes in and I can look at them without negative emotions. At the last two hearings I have been able to smile and look into the eyes of those whom I would have labeled "enemies." I have offered peace to those who have hurt me--and some have rejected it. But it's still ok, because at least I have peace now.
It's a process though, and next week in hearing #4 my love and forgiveness just might be tested again. I don't know. I've discovered it is a risk, because it is not pleasant to try to greet someone and have them pretend you don't exist or look away. That hurts.
And loving baby girl from afar is not nearly as "fun" as holding her in my arms, but I guess my love for her didn't end when the DHS worker took her from me on June 2. Now I have to love her through prayer and through showing up to court to speak on her behalf, even though I don't know when I will see her again.
If I would have been told one year ago how it was going to all play out, I would have said, I am not strong enough for that. But even though right after she left, I was so ready to walk away from God, my faith is stronger now than it was before, and He is walking me through all of this.
Tomorrow she will have been gone for 2 months. I miss my baby girl more than anything. I think about her every day, it seems like 'round the clock. And yet I don't cry much anymore. Not like I did in the first few weeks anyway.
The last few weeks we have gone out of town, tried to prepare for the upcoming school year, attempted to bring some kind of organization to life, and focused on building ourselves back up spiritually, physically, and emotionally.
I have questioned my faith, been disappointed in humanity, struggled to forgive, been disillusioned by those who call themselves Christians and act like the devil, done a lot of reading....and eventually have come through stronger. It's still a process though.
Next week is court hearing #4 regarding Little Miss. The whole case has been bizarre and I think it is nearly unprecedented to have a series of hearings still going on after a child has been put in a biological parent's home for "trial reunification."
So I take it that God is asking me to still pray fervently for her, for the situation, and trust that there is a purpose in all of this...even though I'm not exactly sure what that purpose is as the moment.
The good is that I still get to hear how she is doing at these hearings. For her sake I want everything to be ok. What I hear makes my heart hurt for her and her siblings, but I pray, pray, pray that she is being protected even in the middle of a situation that does not sound good to me.
This series of hearings has been brutal. So much accusation, ugliness, twisting of truth, and plain meanness. I am reading a book that talks of forgiveness, and it is a concept I have been working through now for weeks. It was a comfort to realize that forgiveness does not deny that a person was hurt or wronged. Forgiveness says, yeah you did act like a jerk, you did hurt me, but I choose to let go of anger and retaliation. Forgiveness does not mean that we have to be best buddies or that I even have to trust you again, but it does mean that I choose not to hate you for how you've treated me.
And gradually I have found that when I make the choice to forgive those who have been so cruel, or have lied to my face, or who have slandered our family, that God's grace comes in and I can look at them without negative emotions. At the last two hearings I have been able to smile and look into the eyes of those whom I would have labeled "enemies." I have offered peace to those who have hurt me--and some have rejected it. But it's still ok, because at least I have peace now.
It's a process though, and next week in hearing #4 my love and forgiveness just might be tested again. I don't know. I've discovered it is a risk, because it is not pleasant to try to greet someone and have them pretend you don't exist or look away. That hurts.
And loving baby girl from afar is not nearly as "fun" as holding her in my arms, but I guess my love for her didn't end when the DHS worker took her from me on June 2. Now I have to love her through prayer and through showing up to court to speak on her behalf, even though I don't know when I will see her again.
If I would have been told one year ago how it was going to all play out, I would have said, I am not strong enough for that. But even though right after she left, I was so ready to walk away from God, my faith is stronger now than it was before, and He is walking me through all of this.
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