Faith

I'm practically incoherent.  I'm sicker than I think I've ever been in my whole life save the time after I gave birth to Merci and that one time in the third grade that I had pneumonia so bad that all I can remember is people from our church praying over me in my dark room and me wondering if I was going to die.  I kind of have the same feeling now. Shivering in the fetal position with hot tears running down my hotter cheeks.  I should have run a marathon I have spent the last six months---through all the chaos---training for today.  But I woke up with fever.  and chills.  and knew I had to walk away.  It was the "one thing" I was selfishly begging God for.  It didn't happen.  But such is life, right?

But the day got worse.  And quite frankly, I am so tired of fighting. 

And lest you lecture me about doing it in my own strength...I'll have you know that God has humbled me to such a position that even breathing these last few months cannot be done in my own strength.  I've never in my life needed or depended on Him more.

Our "one" had to leave for awhile.  It seemed everyone but me had the answers and solutions and despite my GUT-CHECK feeling from God...I listened.  It resulted in him having 5 placements to include 2 acute mental hospital stays in a month and a half.  Also, due to miscommunication on DHS's part, a failed adoption.  So I have had to fight like hell to get him the help he needed, keep him in our family's life, and have him brought back home.  He is actually doing well this last week and I have seen some dramatic changes in his heart.  Does this look like a *typical* child?  Hell no!  Sorry, but this needs to be blunt and to the point.  He has lived a life that most people only read about and I'd compare his childhood to a Russian orphanage with all the neglect.  His brain isn't even wired the same because of all his trauma.  But that's hard to remember when he's spouting off all his big, scary words because he is terrified of letting someone love him...or worse...admitting he's vulnerable.  Of course he acts like a thug.  He.has.had.no.one.his.entire.life. Until 6 months ago.

Our "teenager"?  Tuesday we adopt her!!  And the people that are just meeting her are so impressed with how sweet she is and how lucky we are.  So many didn't see the giant tsunami that hit around month 2...the battle for HER walls to crumble.  It was ugly.  I was finished.  I think I stood in my front yard and confessed to one of my best friends that I could go inside and get her things and drop her off at DHS and never look back...and I meant it.  And by God's grace, my friend listened, hugged me, prayed for me, and then told me what I didn't want to hear, "it WILL get better!"  And she was right.  We set massive boundaries and again, by God's grace, she melted.  I have the sweetest 13 year old living in my house.  My daughter....she's absolutely beautiful inside and out.  Watching her slowly blossom these last 6 months has been as incredible as watching a newborn learn to lift his head, roll over, crawl, and walk.  Breathtaking.  She is breathtaking.

Our "Little's"?  Man.  Spider-Man happens to be one of the more difficult sensory children to live with.  He is loud, pops your bubble, and has very little manners.  He doesn't listen, argues with everyone, and is almost impossible to understand because of his articulation disorder.  He had almost no knowledge of God upon moving in.  Now, he is the first to pray at the dinner table, in the car, and at bedtime.  Just the other day I noticed he was missing...and when the loud one goes quietly into his room...something is up.  He had gone and entire week with no bio visit and then had two back to back visits this week to make up for it.  He was in his bed with a very sad look on his face.  I asked him "what's up, buddy?"  He responded, "Superwoman, I was praying today and asked God to give me a second chance so that I could live with my Mommy and my Daddy again.  But I didn't hear Him answer." {pause, thank You dear God for this opportunity you've blessed me with in my own home}  I responded as best I could including the different ways we could "hear" God but also that God was giving his PARENTS a second chance and it was up to THEM to make better choices and reassured him that HE has done nothing to cause this.  This is a boy who still sees the good in everyone and everything and wants to grow up to be a police officer and catch the bad guys.  Who waits for my precious Mermaid at dinner to come to the table because, "wadies furwst".  He gets things wrong.  He is entirely too loud.  And he hasn't quite mastered the art of obedience in just 2 short months.  But he is learning about Jesus.  And he is applying it.  And he is exercising more faith than most life-long Christians.

And then there's my sweet, precious baby.  I didn't realize how badly my heart had been yearning for a toddler until I held her in my arms and rocked her to sleep.  We have a connection that marvels any and all blood relation.  She is truly my baby girl...for the moment.  I can't really even describe or explain the way she's  transformed our family.  All I know is that a little part of me will die when she leaves me.  And I pray every single day that she will understand that it has nothing to do with my not loving or wanting her...rather that we had to choose to put all of our energy into "the one".  That our home couldn't maintain with six children.  Or at least that's what society tells me.

J-Bob and Mermaid have amazed me.  The transformation in their lives has been miraculous.  I am quite sure that my 8 year old daughter whose heart is so full of tolerance and compassion and my 9 year old boy whose humor and acceptance of the hard to live with have more Spiritual maturity than about 80% of today's Christians.  I pray that God continues His good works in them.  In all of them.  May no good seed planted go unharvested.

I have no idea what tomorrow holds.  Good-byes to the Little's is inevitable.  The "ones" adoption is up in the air.  I have been humbled to a place of such lowliness and surrender...I can barely breathe.  All I can do lately is live for the very moment I'm blessed with.  So when I'm holding my baby...I praise God...when I'm redirecting my difficult ones...I praise God...when I'm tucking them all safely into their beds for one more (thank you, Jesus) night...I praise God...with a few tears in my eyes.

My "job" doesn't pay an earthly salary.  It doesn't even gain much respect...I get a lot of lectures, concerns, worries, and unsolicited advice.  I'm daily told how I could do something differently or how I'm not dealing with some certain behavior the right way.  I'm questioned by friends and family.  I'm sick.  I'm exhausted.  I've scarified more than I even imagined possible.  But I also know that ever since I was a little girl I have been obsessed with the verse in the Bible where God asks, "Whom shall I send."  My heart has always beat a little quicker and I imagine it is me saying, "Send me, Lord!!!  Send me!!!"

Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few;"  Matthew 9:37 ESV

I'm asking for more laborers, not less harvest.

And at the very least, encouragement in the laborers lives.  Unless you're going to open your home...maybe you shouldn't open your mouth to criticize or voice concerns.  And maybe pray for the families who are.  Because we need it.  We need husbands to be in the word and on their knees.  We need wives to be willing to submit and show respect.  We need children's lives changed by the powerful word of God.  We need all the protection we can get because we're opening our homes...the safe place...up for battle.  And the enemy can't stand it.  And it's terrifying.  And requires faith and constant surrender. 

Faith is painful.  Truly.  But once grasped tightly...it is also fearless.

That's how I get through my days.  Fearless faith and the blessed reward of tiny little souls and love and childlike faith that leads the way in my heart and in my home.