Life Among the Unknowns

So what's happening now?

I don't know.

How long will you have them?

I have no clue.

What's the plan?

I have absolutely no idea.

Foster care is a world of unknowns.

The lives of the children that I care for are not in my hands. The decisions about their little lives are not my decisions to make. It's up to a judge, a social worker, a supervisor, a GAL, a lawyer, a family member. 

Let me be totally transparent for a moment... This scares me half to death.

In my head, I know that God is ultimately in charge. He has these little ones resting safely in the palm of His hands. 

But I worry. I worry because we live in a fallen world. I worry because people who make decisions outside of God's will effect the lives of those around them... Of those whom they are making the decisions for. Even though I know that God is bigger than all of these people, I still can't remove this human element from the equation. The entropy that ensues when decisions are left up to fallible people... I am terrified that with one word, with one mistake, things will derail. And who, of all those involved pays the price for a bad decision? The child.

This is a broken system, with broken people, that make broken decisions, for children in a broken world. 

And even when you think it's done. The decision has been made, the approval has been granted, the plan has been written... Something else comes up that sends everyone scrambling back to the drawing board. 

We are now dealing with the scramble. No one knows what will happen. No one knows what life will look like for this little one in a year, six months, one month. I don't know where he will be, who he will call mommy, who will protect him. And I'm scared. 

I cannot rest while everything is up in the air. I cannot let my guard down. I cannot be at ease. I cannot stop calling out to the One who knows this child better than anyone else ever will. Crying out for truth to come to light. Begging for this mountain to be moved. 

Please pray with me. Pray that this is resolved quickly. Pray that the right decisions are made. Pray that the facts are examined and God gives those involved in this situation clarity and wisdom. 

Therefore, don’t be afraid of them, since there is nothing covered that won’t be uncovered and nothing hidden that won’t be made known. What I tell you in the dark, speak in the light. What you hear in a whisper, proclaim on the housetops. Don’t fear those who kill the body but are not able to kill the soul; rather, fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. Aren’t two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s consent. But even the hairs of your head have all been counted. So don’t be afraid therefore; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:26-31 HCSB)

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. (Galatians 6:9 NIV)

Please pray with us through the unknowns.

          Painting by Amy Vos McLeod.

The Time Draws Near

The time is drawing near

When I will have to let you go.

It weighs heavy on my heart

Like lead to my grieving soul.

Lately I've been successful

At distracting myself from tears.

But as your departure looms ever closer

And the day is almost here

I find that just below the surface

My emotions are bubbling up

Sending tiny daggers of desperation

But at the same time, gasps of hope.

You are going to where God is leading

He is ordering your every move

You, dear child, are an intrical part

Of what God will one day do.

As much as it pains me to let you go

To hand you off to another

As much as I want you to stay in my arms,

To be your forever mother.

I can't be selfish and keep you away

From what God has called you to

For I only want the best for you

And nothing less than God's best will do.

You are special, little blessed one,

I've known it from the beginning.

There's a light in your eyes, a sparkle, a promise

Of the hope that you'll one day be giving.

As our time together begins to wind it's way down

I know what it is I will do.

I will pray over you and hug you close 

And thank my God for blessing me with you.

Not Mine

Precious Eyelashes,

I'm sitting in the middle of the living room floor watching and listening to you play. You're talking to yourself, or your toys, or me... I'm not sure which. When you do something you're proud of, you look over to me to see if I'm looking. Trust me, I'm watching. I'm soaking in every single second with you that I possibly can. And I'm so proud of you, baby boy. 

It grieves my heart to know that in just a few weeks, you will begin spending more time with another family. You will begin transitioning into their world, adapting to their schedule, getting to know them and love them. It will be them that you will begin to trust as you start your second year of life. Eventually, the memories of your time with me will fade. You will hopefully know me by name, know my face, but you won't remember the ten months you spent growing up with me. And that's okay, I have pictures enough for the both of us...

I do want you to know this, though...

I love you more than I need my next breath. I would give my life to protect you. You own a part of my heart that you will be taking with you when you leave. But you are not mine. I've known this from the very day I got you, July 15, 2013. I am not your forever family, but God has created another family just for you. He has orchestrated your every step in the first year of your life. It was no coincidence that you came to me, and it will be by His design that you go to the next stop on your journey home.

You are special, baby boy. You will go on to do great things in life. There is something in you that God will use to work wonders. I know this is true, for God has already worked wonders in my life through you. I will forever pray for you, forever love you, forever hold you tight in my heart. And when the time is right, I want to help you piece together the first year of your life so that you know where you came from.

There is no way I can explain how heartbroken I am that God didn't call me to be your forever mommy, but in time I know that we will both see that God's plan for us is so much bigger, greater, more spectacular and more amazing than we could ever dream of or try to orchestrate on our own. As a precious friend reminded me today, there is another baby out there who needs a safe place to grow, and that, for now, is what God has called me to. To love and protect, but to let go when it's time. So I'm holding onto you now with open hands. 

I still don't know what your future looks like, but I know that God has got it all in the palm of His hand. He knows you better and loves you more than I ever could. He made you. He has a plan for you. You are His. 

Thank you, sweet baby, for touching my heart so deeply. Thank you for teaching me how to be a better person. How to love more deeply, without the walls I normally erect around my heart. Thank you for loving me. You have loved me every single day that you have been with me... even when I felt unloveable. Thank you for being a picture of grace and unconditional love. You are more of a blessing to me than you will ever know.

Precious baby boy, you are my bestest boy, my favorite love... And I love you deeply... For always.

A Woman of Grace

As I drove through downtown Birmingham, I listened to her story. I interjected questions here and there for clarification, but for the most part, she just talked. She was unloading. She was telling someone her story.

Her grandmother raised her. She wasn't a nice woman, but at least she was there. Her mom split when she was little. She saw her mom sometimes on holidays, if she bothered to come around at all, but for the most part, she was absent. She never knew her daddy. Never even knew his name. After her grandma died, she tried to find her mom. To make some sort of contact. To try again. But she couldn't find her. She still looks in the phone book every so often. Just to see if her mom's name magically appears in there. But she's not hopeful. She has no idea if she's dead or alive.  Sometimes she pretends that her mom got rid of the drugs, found a nice man, and had a family. At least then she would be happy. Not suffering. Not like she was.

At first she started using because it was just something to do. It was easier to buy drugs in her neighborhood than it was fresh produce. Cheaper, too. But from her first hit, they took control of her body. They owned her mind. When she was high, she didn't have to think about being abandoned by the one who gave birth to her. She didn't have to think about what kind of ugly words and physical torment she would go home to that night... If she went home at all. She didn't have to think about what those men did to her. She didn't have to think about how ashamed she was for letting them touch her. They were her family. They were supposed to love her and take care of her, but that wasn't love. No matter what they said, she knew that wasn't love.

As the drugs took ownership of her every waking hour, she pursued them desperately. She stole, she begged, she even turned tricks to get them. And soon she found that she was experiencing horrors just to get what she needed to forget all of her horrors to begin with. The vicious cycle was in full form. She couldn't escape it. And then she got pregnant. But the cycle continued. She wanted to be a good mommy. She loved that little boy more than anything in the world... Except for her next fix. She always told herself that the next one would be the last one. And then she'd be done. No more. But it just kept extending into a longer and longer line of "the next one." Before she knew it, she was pregnant again. 

Several times she tried rehab. The boys were taken away a few times, but somehow she always pulled off getting them back. She loved them. They were her only reason to get any better. Her only reason to keep trying. Her only reason to breathe. And then the unthinkable happened to them. She did whatever she could to take care of them when she was on a binge. They were safer with someone else then with her if she were high, right? She could kick herself now for trusting. For thinking that it was okay to leave them there. But all she can hope for now is that they'll heal and that they can finally break the cycle of addiction. That they can be the ones to rise above. To be brave and face their horrors head on instead of continually running from them, even at the expense of those they love the most. 

So now she was fighting. She wanted her life back. She wanted to raise her boys and to know the joy and happiness of being a mommy. She wanted to be there for them. Unlike her own mother, she wanted to watch them grow up. And she was trying. Trying so hard.

A few weeks later, as she called to cancel another visit, I knew in my heart she was using again. There was nothing I could do. I knew that this would spell disaster for any chance of reunification for this little family. My heart broke. It broke for the spunky little man who wanted so much to be back with his mommy and his brother. It broke for her. Because I knew that she understood what this meant. She knew the consequences. And I was scared. Without them, what did she have to work for? To get better for? To live for?

The time came for a meeting. I went in not really knowing what to expect. I knew the plan. There were relatives who were going the extra mile so that the boys could be together again. They were taking the needed steps to make sure that they were prepared for the challenges that raising these two boys would bring. They were going above and beyond, in my opinion, to take care of family. But I didn't know how she was going to react. Surely this couldn't be a surprise to her. She knew better than anyone what consequences would come from her addiction. And so I sat next to her at the table, with bated breath, waiting for the meeting to start.

What she said both broke my heart and gave me hope. In her soft voice, calm and determined, she told an entire room of people that she had fallen. She was no longer able to control her addiction, and like so many times before, it now had control of her. But she wanted more for her boys. She wanted stability for them. A good home and a loving family. She wanted more for them than what she had ever had. She wanted more for them than what she could ever give them. And as she spoke, tears ran down her face. Silent, hot, desperate tears. Tears that told a story. A story of loss, pain, and the horrors of her life. But also of love, sacrifice, hope and strength. 

Never had I respected her more. Never had I hurt for her more. She was doing the hard thing. She was making a gut-wrenching decision to give her children what was best for them. She gave them up to save them. 

Sadly, she's still living as a slave to her addiction. But all hope is not lost. She has someone on her side. One who does not push for adoption because she knows that it would take away any faint glimmer of hope for her to ever get better. One who drives countless hours each month to make sure that the boys get to see their mommy. One who prays relentlessly for her healing. One who, after more than a year in her home, is still looking for a place where the boys' mommy can heal and recover. One who loves her because she loves Jesus. One who knows what it is to show grace. 

I want to be like her. I want to be the one who stands with the mommies of my little ones. I want to stand in the gap, to support, to love, to believe... I want to be a light when all they can see is darkness. I want to be able to look a mommy in the eye and say, "Carry on, Mama. You're fighting the good fight." 

So many of these mommies have never had someone in their corner. I can't imagine the loneliness that would come from knowing that absolutely no one believes in you. That the world condems you. That you are alone. 

I pray that more of us come alongside these women. That we lift them up and support them. Because after all... We all fall short, do we not? Whether it results in the loss of our children into the foster care system or not... We are all sinners who have fallen short of the mark. And we all need Jesus.

Dear Mr. Eyelashes,

This Thursday you will be 9 months old.

Yesterday marked 7 months that you have been with me.

I am so helplessly in love with you that sometimes it overwhelms my heart and I forget to breathe. You are the brightest, most beautiful, loving child that I have ever met and I see a spark in your eyes that I know nothing will ever be able to extinguish. When you're asleep in your bed, my arms itch to hold you. When you're not with me, I miss you so much that my heart aches for you by the end of the day. I crave hearing your little voice. My heart skips a beat every time you look at me and smile. 

The past 7 months have been like a dream. It's almost as if I've been living a page from someone else's life. In a way, I have. 

You see, precious one, when the time comes, I will have to pack your bags. You won't know what I'm doing. You'll sit and watch me with your bright little eyes, never doubting my presence or my devotion to you. And you shouldn't doubt those things, because they will never waver. No matter where you end up, I will only be a call away. And while my devotion to you will change shape, it will never ever dissipate. I will always and forever love you, support you, pray for you, smile when I think of you. 

When the time comes, I will hand you off to another. One you will call Mommy for the rest of your life. She will adore you, love you, raise you, pray for you. 

I don't know if you'll ever remember your time living with me. How we snuggled for hours and hours. How I sang a special song to you everyday. How we danced around the house, tripping over the dog the whole time. How I rubbed your left eyebrow when you were sleepy in my arms. How we read books and watched shows about Alaska together. How I told you I loved you at least 68,000 times a day. How you grew teeth, learned how to sit all by yourself, realized you did like baby food, made new sounds almost everyday, felt a doggy's love, patience, protection and devotion, learned that the cat is never to be trusted when all you want to do is pet him, began rolling over and scooting, and so so much more.

Chances are, you won't remember those things. But I do hope that you'll remember that you were loved unconditionally. Please don't ever doubt that. Saying goodbye to you will be the hardest thing that I've ever had to do. Letting go of you and putting you in another's arms will rock my world. But I'll be okay after a while, and so will you. I will move on with life, just as you will. We will both learn that loving someone so deeply, only to lose them, doesn't shatter and destroy your heart. It shatters it so that when God picks up the pieces and puts them back together, He does so in a way that leaves more room than we ever had before. He grows our capacity to love so that we can do more, serve more, be more, love more.

At this point, I don't know what your future will hold. I do know, though, that I get at least a few more months of watching you grow and learn. A few more months of your snuggles. A few more months of your laugh. A few more months of your eyes. A few more months to love you even more ferociously than before. 

Mr. Eyelashes, you are my bestest boy, my favorite love... For always.

In Honor of the Dumb Little Flying Baby Who Shoots People in the Butt with Darts

You can call him Cupid if you want to, but I like the other name better...

So I've been pondering some things as of late. In my pondering, I've realized that there are some things I know about myself, and some things I don't. Today, on a day dedicated to love, and in honor of Cupid, I'm going to make a list of these things, but all through the lense of being single.

Things I KNOW for sure and for certain about myself:

1. Sometimes I'm okay with being single, and sometimes I'm not. So maybe this should be on my Don't Know list, but at least I know I waver between the two.

2. I'm not an ogre. I used to subscribe to the belief that I was a hideous beast, but I think that's only because that's what society tells girls they should believe about themselves. I've dropped that subscription, though. Now, does that mean I'm a super model? No, I like to eat. I think that nutrients are important for my body so that means you'll probably never see me on a billboard for Gap. Other than that little detail, I'm pretty. I like the way I look. Will everyone agree with me on that? No, but that's okay... Just don't tell me if you don't, please. :)

3. I'm relatively healthy. I can at least fend for myself. And if things go as planned, I'll be even healthier once I actually start eating better. (That's a whole different blog post in itself.)

4. I can be kind of funny. Sometimes. Once you spend a good bit of time with me, I'm sure the laughing probably ceases, but I can at least crack some good ones every now and then.

5. I am moody. Maybe it's because I'm a woman. Maybe it's because I've lived alone for so long. Maybe it's just the way God made me. I can even attribute this to being right there on the line between extrovert and introvert, but I'm not sure if that's the reason or not. The why of this can go on my Don't Know list, but I can go from feeling great and sociable one day to being a weirdo-loner the next.

6. I HATE yard work. It is a bane to my existence and I would rather chop my leg off than do it.

7. I am in no way, shape or form, a good housekeeper. My house is usually messy (clean, but messy) and I don't always put things away (or never, whatever...), but maybe I'll grow up one day and get better at it. I'm not holding my breath though.

8. When I buy into something new, I will be gung-ho for two weeks, and then I tend to fall off the wagon and totally forget about it. At least I'm good for two weeks, right?

Things I DON'T KNOW about myself:

1. As mentioned before, I don't really know for sure if I'm okay with being single or not. 

2. I have no clue why I'm moody at times. My mom calls it "peculiar" and says I get it from my dad. Don't tell her, but I think she's probably right. 

3. Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me in that I have not yet gotten married, nor am I anywhere close to it.

Now, both of those lists could be much longer, but in the interest of saving you some time, and me some dignity, I stopped at that.

The rest of this post will be focused on #3 on the Don't Know list...

3. Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me in that I have not yet gotten married, nor am I anywhere close to it.

Growing up, there was one friend that had a "list" that was longer than everyone else's put together. If you're a woman, you know exactly which "list" I'm referring to. If you're a man, well, I don't know. You may have one, you may not... I've never been a man, so I don't really know... I digress... This one girl, though, hers was long and detailed. Like, ridiculously long and detailed. We always kind of thought that her list was so long that she never marry because no guy would ever make the cut. Well, she's married now. I have no clue if her husband meets all of those requirements or if she decided against some of the pickier things on it, but I'm glad it all worked out for her, either way.

As for my list, I never wrote it out (that I can remember), but I do know that it was much longer back then than it is now. You may be wondering about what in the world would be on a 31 year old single gal's list... I'm glad you asked, because I'm about to tell you, so ready yourself...

1. He must be a Christian.

2. He has to either have all of his teeth or be willing to wear his teeth while out in public. (Really kind of hoping for the first option there, but hey... I don't discriminate.)

3. He must be open to foster care.

So when I think about it, it's encouraging that I only have 3 things on my list... That's amazing, right? Wrong. The kicker, it seems, is #3. 

I never imagined that I would have found my ministry before being married. I never imagined that I would be 31 and single. Ha! I was so sure that I would get married shortly after graduating college. I mean, depending on your definition of shortly, maybe I'm still within that time frame, but I'm thinking probably not. But the truth is, I know what God has called me to do. 

I am a foster parent. 

It's hard, frustrating, and can get very gritty and grimy in these trenches, but it's part of who I am. It's part of how I now define myself. And this, my friends, I am not willing to give up... Even if he has the most beautiful teeth I've ever laid eyes on...

I know that compromising on this matter will set me up for a lifetime of disappointment and knowing that I'm not operating in God's calling on my life. It's just not worth it.

So in conclusion, if you have recently had a conversation with your amazingly strong Christian neighbor/nephew/cousin/coworker/dentist/doctor/friend/son/brother/mailman who, with his full set of teeth, told you that he feels that foster care is his ministry and that he can't wait to be a foster dad... Send him my way. Otherwise, Cupid can keep his distance.

                    

We. Need. You.

She has so many reasons to lose it, to let go and give herself over to her emotions... Grief, anxiety, fear, exhaustion, despair, and anger.

But yet, she has so many more reasons to stay strong. Love, hope, responsibilities, commitment, persistence, her kids... Her calling.

She walks into the room with her face showing the obvious signs of tears, a cascade of them. This is not a weak woman. This is a woman who spends more time on her knees for her children, both bio and foster, than anyone else I know. This is a woman who speaks the name and healing power of Jesus to the kids in her care. This is a woman to whom most of us in the foster care community look to for guidance, help, and encouragement. This is a woman after God's own heart. 

It's hard for me to see the tears, but it's not hard for me to imagine why she's crying.

Foster care is not for the feint of heart. It is hard. It is frustrating. It is scary. It is grief. It's children who have been hurt in ways that makes you want to throttle the person who did it to them. It's children who have never been loved and therefore don't know how to accept your love, no matter how hard you try. It's children who do not trust adults because they have been betrayed too many times before. It's families who are broken and hurting, angry, needy, desperate. 

Living in the realm of foster care is living in a state of perpetual brokenness. The fear of what might happen at their next visit. The agony of listening to a child weep for their mommy in your arms, while knowing they may never be with mommy again. The knot in the pit of your stomach as you wait in the family court waiting room to see what the judge has decided about the fate of the child that you love. The intensity of behaviors that happen when a child has been damaged and broken, and is looking for solace and comfort the only way they know how. The day that is fast approaching, in which you will send them off to a new home while praying that they continue to heal, are safe, and seek after God.

So as I listen to her cry on the row behind me, as I listen to her pray for the One to heal the little one that is so broken, I know where she is. I've been there and I'll be there again in the future. It's certainly not a question of if we get there, it's a question of when. The moment when all we can do is cry out to the Father, hoping for a miracle. 

No, foster care is not a ministry for the weak. It's not a ministry for just the few who have been called. It's a ministry for ALL of us. Foster parents need your support. We need your prayers. We need your hugs and encouragement. We need a community to help us raise this broken child, so that they are pointed to Jesus every step of the way. We need you.