Where We Are At

My senior year English teacher would throat chop me for putting 'at' after 'where' but in this moment, it needed to be said.

We are in a season of, gosh, not sure how to describe it. Hmm, simply put, we are in a hard season.

Before I elaborate, let's get something clear... When I speak of the difficulty and strain fostering puts on my family, I do NOT mean we are done.  Most people seem to think my complaints and struggles are leading us to end this journey.

Nope.

I don't know what else to say as to not sound all 'boo hoo.'

The fact that I haven't had words since May 12th says a lot.

A friend told me, "Some kids fit and some don't." Our home isn't going to be ideal for every single child that walks through that door. It's hard to realize that because I think we should be able to handle anything buuutt we can't. My kids can't.

I'm not sure I even answered the title.

Where we are is in a season of needing rest.

I heard an analogy once. I love analogies.

Christians are like sponges. We soak up Jesus and then we get squeezed and out He comes but eventually there is nothing left in the sponge.

That is where we are.

A dry sponge needing a refill of Jesus.

P.S. My posting about our journey is not in any shape or form for pats on the back or sorry feelings for us... It is just my telling of our story.

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. 

Who's Who

I do my best thinking in a few places. One happens to be the shower. I have solved ALLLL the world's problems while lathering and repeating and shaving my armpits.

A few days ago, the choo choo train of thoughts in my head, while showering, were moving at lightning speed. I can't remember how I arrived at this destination but one part was thinking about a friend I graduated with.

He and his wife are in the pits of adoption. It is rarely as glamorous as the world makes it out to be. It is hard and it is tiring. I was feeling really proud of them. Thinking how they have been married since high school, have jobs, making a life for themselves. I laughed because he was not quite like that in school. He truly loves the Lord now and it is wonderful to 'see.'

Then my thoughts went to another friend I graduated with. He has been working hard for well over a year to prep land and build a house for his little family. Due to the economy, he recently lost his job but has spent time training his young son in the ways of farming, building and just bonding.

Both of these men were not voted "Most Likely To Succeed."

Those that are generally voted are the ones everyone thinks will go on to be doctors, lawyers... Jobs that pay a lot.

Why is success measured by the dollar amount on a paycheck?

A girl in my class, she spent some time as a single mom, fighting to raise her children. She married someone and they have a son together. She is a happy, thriving, wife and mom.

All three of these people are successful. No, they aren't doctors, lawyers or surgeons. They are people who despite the dollar amount on their checks are winning at this life thing.

I stay home with four kids. I have an expensive piece of paper telling me I graduated from college.

Am I less successful because I'm at home wiping asses and cooking dinners?

Nope.

Are the doctors and lawyers more successful?

Nope.

We all are successes from our class. (I mean some probably aren't. Im talking about everyone NOT in prison or jail.)

Some, the paths are a little rough and it took more time to find the right one, but you did it!

When my kids grow up and graduate from high school and this Who's Who thing is still around, if they don't make it, it doesn't matter. My prayer isn't for a really cool slot in the yearbook but for them to have a lasting impression on the world. I want them to do what Christ called them to do. To make the best of their journey. To try.

So here is to all of us that didn't get named Who's Who when we graduated.

You ALL are awesome in my yearbook called LIFE.

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.

Purpose

I've had people imply that we will take time to evaluate if we want to venture down this path again now that we know the end result and the pain it brings...

Let me take this back a few steps to give some insight.

The reason we are doing this is because we were told to. The Holy Spirit was very clear to me.

Since the whole reason is for Christ and He told us to do this then we will obey.

I have no doubt that if after Christ rose from the grave and someone, maybe Peter had asked Him, "So knowing now what you know now... Would you do it all again?"

I'm sure Jesus would have said with a smile, "But of course! My Father asked and I will obey. My Father has great plans for me and you. I must obey because my obedience changes the world. So absolutely I would do it again, because beyond the pain, beyond the stares and the whispers, beyond the darkness awaits beauty, awaits Heaven. If I don't obey, I miss out on the Promise and so do YOU!"

My heart is hurting big time. One of my children is incredibly sad. Another is hiding it. Two others don't understand.

But yes, yes we will do this again. This wasn't a trial run. It wasn't practice to see if we enjoyed it!

We will take time just the six of us to recover. Our definition of normal NOW is what most find strange and what most find normal we can't live in that zone of life anymore. Normal for us is weird to the world. I look at your normal and find it weird.

So we will use this time between the race we just ran to recover, to cross train, to refocus.

It's a race friends. Run it with PURPOSE!

My Cross

"Take up your cross... Daily."

The words my very wise Bible Study leader shared with me when I told her we had a foster child.

Her teaching was huge in our decision to even begin this journey. Christ really spoke to me through His Word via her.

Tomorrow is Good Friday. The day my Jesus carried His cross and later that day gave up his life on it, for me. For our friend. For you. 

Tomorrow on Good Friday, I will rise out of bed, put on my pajama pants, my socks, brush my teeth, put in my contacts and grab my cross. 

I will take three kids to school but only two will come home to eat dinner with us.

Matt and I will pray over our friend and then  we watch him leave. 

My heart hurts but that is the burden of the cross and my burden is nothing compared to what Christ did on His that very Good Friday.

The great thing about daily carrying your cross is it changes you. It is heavy so you become strong. It is splintery so you grow in persistence. The splinters serve as a painful reminder. They add to our beauty. 

My whole family has been forever changed by one nine year old boy. 

Everyone says we helped him but in all fairness to what he brought to the table, he helped us. 

We grew. We learned. We listened. We obeyed. We are closer. 

So this weekend, as you don your fancy Easter outfit, fancy jewelry and eat a nice lunch. Don't leave your cross at home. 

Grab it, carry it, let it change you. The pain of following Christ and his calling hurts but oh what a joy it has been. What a celebration it was in Heaven three days later when the stone was rolled away. 

Don't miss out on His goodness, His mercy because you won't carry your cross. 

Surrender your fears, your hesitation, your comfort.

I promise He shows up.