Hiatus

I can't remember where I heard it but I heard someone say "Christians are like sponges. You have to get filled up with the Word then you get squeezed and the Word comes out but eventually, like a sponge you become dry if you aren't being filled."

This has always stuck with me.

My sponge is dry.

Our last placement sucked all the Word I had in me. I wouldn't say I'm completely dry because that sounds awful but I am needing a fill.

It is my fault. I let emotional exhaustion win. If given the choice to pray or be alone, I would choose to be alone.

He has been gone for just over a week and I feel like at least my humor is returning.

When he left, there was a physical release. It sounds weird but my body literally felt better as soon as he was gone. I didn't realize I had gotten to that point of survival. I mean, I felt mentally there but physically I was on auto pilot.

Once he left, I felt lighter. I smiled. I hugged my husband. I laughed.

It isn't AG's fault. I blame the evil in this world. It isn't his fault he has had a shitty life. It wasn't our fault he raged against us.

Didn't make it less draining though.

After every placement, we take a break. This break will be an extended one. We literally have relationships we need to work on with each other and with our children. This whole mission is a huge sacrifice.

Tucking AG into bed first meant my kids got the rushed version. Meeting AG's needs over my children meant they got the annoyed mom. AG came first in a lot of ways and my kids came second. Some will say "Oh that is so sad and this is why we can't and won't foster."

Yeah, I get that but my kids will bounce back. They get to have us when each child leaves. Sacrifice is part of this mission and it isn't just Matt and I sacrificing. It is our whole family.

There are six sponges that need some filling. We will spend the next handful of months being 'normal.' We will jump back in to the chaos after we have healed and filled up.

I will wash the sheets, shut the door to the room and when the time is right the door will be opened.

For now, I am going to reconnect to Jesus, my husband and my children.

Soldier On

Soldier On

I'm gonna be really real. Generally speaking, im real but I do tend to watch what I say so I don't sound negative or pursuade folk in a direction.

Here it is...

Since getting our most recent placement, life has been hard. 

He is a tough kid from a hard place & it shows, daily, minute by minute.

The real-ness is when I tell you I wanted him to just go back. NOT to the troubles that landed him in foster care but to someone else's home. I wanted my kids to not have to worry about him bothering them anymore. I wanted Matt to not worry about him throwing fits anymore. I want to not worry about him screaming at me anymore. I want to sit and be still. I want to drive and not hear the amount of bickering in the backseat that sends a sane person insane & want to jump from the car...while it is moving!

It has been a hard, gosh I don't even know how long, three weeks.

THEN, once I'm done whining, my Spirit says, "Soldier On." My flesh argues. I am weak. I am mentally done. His deliberate disobedience is so incredibly hard not to personalize. 

"Soldier On. If Paul did his ministry with his thorn then so can you."

Am I calling our friend a thorn? Yes, sometimes he is. Lots of the time he is. Most of the time he is BUT that doesn't change our mission. 

It didn't change it for Paul, in fact I would argue it made him better. 

"Soldier On."

This fostering isn't easy at. all. It is a calling. It is our calling. We didn't do this bc of a message at church or bc of an event. It wasn't like going to a concert and leaving with a Compassion Child. 

I would have quit tonight had this been some quick decision. If this wasn't literally, told to me that we must do this. I would have quit. "The thorn is too much today." Then I would return back to my four kids, carried on about our life and planned some absurd vacation. 

"Soldier On."

Paul had a mission. He was called. It wasn't a warm fuzzy feeling. Warm fuzzies get cold after a while. This was in him to do. It was in Him to grow believers, to teach them, to deal with super apostles, to bridge the gap in the churches he started. 

"Soldier On."

So when you ask me how I'm doing, I really do not know how to answer you. Part of me wants to sit in my closet with mindless books, Netflix, Hulu & Amazon Instant(for variety) and never come out. Part of me wants to say, "I'm over it."

But the part of me that has been called says, "Soldier on bc he is worth it."

One Roller Skate

You know that whole, "If your house is on fire and can only grab 1 thing. What would it be?" scenario? 

That's a real life scenario for foster kids. Here is the foster kid version of that question,  "You can only take to a complete strangers home what will fit in this Walmart sack (or if they are lucky they get a trash bag). What do you take?" 

Our first foster child, I will call BH, came to our home with a trash bag and a "Together We Rise" duffle bag. 

I helped him 'unpack' his trash sack and found 1 roller skate. 

My bio kids asked him, "Why do you only have one skate?" 

I overheard his response, "I didn't have time to look for the other one." The tone in which he spoke, literally broke me.

Talk about making me cry. Still gives me the lump in my throat. 

To this day the vision of that lonely roller skate by my front door will always remind me of the struggle these kids go through. 

When I was 5, 6, 7, 8... Had a stranger come to my home to 'take me' and they had said I could only take a few things, I can't even fathom how that would have felt or what I would have grabbed! 

Our new friend, AG, came to us with 2 pairs of jeans, one he was wearing and another that was too big, two shirts, one plain white and one that was too small, two shoes, one pair nice and one pair too big. 

That's all!

No socks.

No underwear.

No toothbrush.

No toys.

He is 6.

One roller skate.

Such an odd thing but will always remind me why we are doing this. 

An Attack The Size of a Kidney Stone

I'm not sure how you feel about spiritual warfare but I am a firm believer.

If you are a follower of Christ, there will be attacks at least there should be! They don't have to be big as the devil works in the big and small things.

Good Friday our friend left.

Easter Sunday I spent in watching my incredibly tough husband writher in pain from a kidney stone. So we booked a night at St. Francis so he could get the thing blasted and taken out because it was too big to pass. Not a night at the Hilton but he was fine, the kids were fine, I was fine so ulitmatley everything was going to be fine.

It was an attack. A blatant attack on my family. A 'kick you in the crotch spit on your neck fantastic' attack.

Even as type this my youngest two who normally are pretty chill while we wait for the big kids after school, are currenlty freaking out.

It is an attack. No harm done but it is still an attack.

I'm grateful this happened after our friend left. I see that as protection, a blessing.

So now what?

Matt is on the mend. While we were in the hospital, someone joked about they heard of an angel that is good at rolling stones away. We had a good chuckle at that it being Easter and all.

We plan to take a few weeks off of fostering to now let Matt heal, do some things as a family and just be still for a moment.

The Hurt

"I could never do foster care because it would be so hard when they leave."

That is what I hear a lot.

I was told today that our friend could leave this weekend which is a few days away. My heart is hurting. My heart is wishing we had more time. More time to teach him about Jesus, more time for Matt to hug him, more time for him to hug me, more time for him to learn to read, more time...

But we don't have more time. We have lesss time than I thought we would have.

Yes, my heart is going to hurt when he leaves us. My kids will miss him. Matt will miss him. My house will feel less full and it will be hard BUT this isnt about me or Matt or the kids.

This is fully and wholly about Christ. So for Christ, I will pack his bags, hopefully give him a hug, pray over him and watch him leave.

So yes, I, Megan Knox, could never do foster care because it would be so hard when they leave but Christ has told us to do this and this we will do. We will allow the hurt to grow us, to change us, to make us better.

Really the rest of you are missing out.