Leaps and Bounds

     Leaps and bounds, that's what we've hurdled over these last six months. My littles are doing wonderfully. When we first welcomed our current kiddos into our home, there was no toddling (as there should have been), there was no babbling (as there should have been), and there was a lot of eating (little ones were very hungry and didn't have ANY dislikes when it came to food). To sum it up, there was a lot of unusual behaviors from them. However, that's normal with any placement.

      Now here we are and the accomplishments that we have made. We have "normal" toddler behavior! There is "picky-ness" at meal times. I hear about ten words and sign language coming from my foster love. There is climbing on the furniture! We aren't hanging on my leg when a grown up approaches. We smile at others. We are demonstrating appropriate reactions to bedtime. Best of all, there is laughter! Oh, how I LOVE that sound, best of all!

Choosing to Count Our Blessings....Today

     Wouldn't it be great if when we prayed, God would speak audibly back to us instantly? I know, it'd probably scare me to death, but it would help (wouldn't it?) to just hear the answers that you're searching for. Sometimes, I feel as though I am trying to guess answers, instead.

     I spoke with a friend a while ago, and I mentioned being "still and knowing that he is God" to hear answers and to seek his will for our family. I shared with her my frustrations that I don't hear, feel or sense anything. I sit in silence, and sometimes, I feel like my prayers stop at the ceiling. She brought to my attentions a new interpretation of the said verse. She asked me what if being still meant, being content and still where he has led us, thus far. We're here, right where his path has led us (kind of at a stand still), and maybe we're just to be enjoying our family, as is. 

     It isn't that I have not been enjoying our family dynamics, lately. I think that I'm enjoying it, too much, because I'm trying to run ahead. I'm trying to prepare for the unknown. I'm mourning a loss that hasn't happened, and that may not be a wrong response to our situation. However, I'm not focused on the good times that we haven't had yet. We get to have some holidays and a birthday in the coming months together. We're blessed to have these moments, and I'm thankful. Today I'm counting my blessings. That is what I'm choosing this moment. 

My God, Give Me Strength

I haven't blogged lately for lack of material. It is the opposite, really. I haven't been blogging lately because I have so many issues and emotions swimming around in my head, and I just can't concentrate on one area. Have you seen the internet card that jokes about having so much to do that the person just took a nap, instead? That feels like me blogging.

Have you ever missed someone when they have never left you? Maybe a loved one is going away on a trip, or family is leaving town for a new adventure. Whatever the case may be, you miss them, but they haven't left. In fact, they could be sitting right next to you. I have spurts of that during my day. I miss my kids that haven't left yet. I miss what they're going to learn away from my loving arms and protection. I miss his and her smiles and giggles. I could very well miss first steps and words.My heart is tearing in two just writing this. That, is exactly why I haven't been blogging. It hits a painful piece of me inside that I don't let people see.

Those who are around me often get the strong woman that is taking care of children who I did not give life to. I'm supposed to be doing this great charitable act, and in reality, I'm dying a little bit inside. Pieces of my heart have been given away, and they leave little holes. I'd like to think that the light of God shines through those holes, because that is the only glue that is holding this tattered heart together. Oh, the shreds are painful, but they are perfectly illuminating love into this terribly dark world. Again, the tears are falling down my cheeks, but perfect joy comes in the morning. He has brought me here. I have faith that he won't leave me here, and heaven knows that I will need so much strength to get through the darkest times when they are gone, for good. Oh, God, I already miss them. The lights in their eyes, and her small voice calling me "Mama" being lost into a memory pierces like a dagger.

Here is another painful realization, my kids are so young that they won't even remember my face when they go. I've poured so much of myself into them, they'll stay with me, but I will not with them. I may be hazey distant memory without a face, and my sweet whispers of lullabies in the darkness may hide within the chambers of their hearts, but there will be no vivid memories of us. I'll be loving them from afar. My mind will always wander to them. My heart will always miss them. I will silently celebrate their birthdays. The years will slip by, and I will carry them with me throughout them. I guess that is another gift to be given, loving someone throughout their life, in secret. My God, give me the strength. Yes, for I already miss them, even as they sleep under my roof tonight.

Pieces of Prayer and Hope

     Being in charge of another life (in other words, being a parent), is a very challenging job. It's a lot of responsibility to know when an illness warrants a doctor visit, or when to have a conference with a teacher over a problem at school; also, when to just leave things alone and let time run its course. My instincts kick in to protect and defend these kids, but sometimes, I have to swallow my desire to run over everyone and to just let time play it's hand.

     It's also another playing field to be parenting another person's children while they are getting their family rehabilitated to be able to have their children come back home. Am I making the right choices? Do I look too closely into things? How can I help transition these children without it being a scary or traumatic event?

     I love these kids. I pray that they'll be safe on their return home. I also hope that I'm doing the best job that I can do while they are in my home. My family has become their family, and pieces of my heart belong with them, too.

Reality...and it stinks...

     Today was a day of realization for me. I came to the sobering thought that the kids that are in my care today could grow up, become school aged, and then leave for reunification with their birth families. I can't imagine having to say goodbye to a child that I've had in my care for three, four or five years. We're talking a kindergarten aged child that has been with a family since birth, and having them leave our home to go to their "real" home.

     I mean, I could dig very deep into my "Christian" bag of thoughts & pull out a deep thought like, "But aren't we all misplaced children until we reach our final "home" in heaven..." But let's just get real for a moment. This stinks!

     I've often dealt with the raw feelings of the unknown of being a foster parent, but I haven't come face to face with the brutal truth that the children's best interest aren't really what is being considered if the above scenario takes place. It's a crazy thought, isn't it?

     Here is another one. I've had one child since they were only a few days old. Let's use this hypothetical scenario that plays over and over each day in our court systems. I will teach this baby to roll over, to then sit, eventually walk, talk and run. This child will call me, Mommy, and my husband will be, Daddy. If we move, so will they. When the child is sick, I come to their aide. I will register the child for any schooling, make lunches, teach them to tie their shoes, and I may be lucky enough to see their first tooth lost. However, in all that time, I could get a phone call to pack their bags and to send them on their way.

     How does one prepare a child, much less oneself, for this kind of blow? How will and do I prepare their siblings for such a blow? We'll be mourning the loss of a family member, for in most cases, you never really hear from these children or their family's again. Forgive me for my bluntness, here, but it is almost ALMOST like having a terminally ill child. You know that your time may be cut short, but you just have no time frame to go on. You cry a lot, thinking about the day that they'll leave you. You want to do everything with and for them because you just don't know how much longer they'll be with you. You're not exactly sure about where they'll be going, but you do know that you'll miss them like crazy. At least, in death, you know that they are "safe" and at rest. You know that they are in a better place. It isn't the same, but it is the closest example that I can grasp.

Is God Laughing at Me?

     Have you ever heard the saying, "If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans."  Well, can you hear the laughter outside your window? We've been very blessed with a house full of laughter, chaos and children (those things go hand in hand, by the way). However, I never planned on having five sets of little feet running though our home. God brought us here. 


     I "planned" on having four biological children, but that wasn't God's plan. I never dreamed that I'd ever want to be a foster parent. That wasn't in my "plan", but God brought us here. A little while ago, we became a licensed foster home. The ride, so far, has been insane. It has been frustrating; it has been stressful, and it is downright hard at times. Yet, there is a flip side. Being a parent to these children has been rewarding, humbling and a downright honor. My heart has grown with each child that has passed through our doorstep.


     Now, back to the laughter, we have "planned" on adopting a child or children if that privilege ever presents itself, but I have no idea what God has planned for us. My mind swims with questions: Will we ever adopt? How long will it take? Is this our forever child? Is this healthy for our family? Why are we doing this, again?


I must rely on the truth that is instilled in my heart:  
Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.


     I don't know where this ride will take us or when it will end, but my prayer and hope is that God won't laugh too hard at our "plans" to adopt & bless us with another miracle!