Letting Go...

"How do I wake up to joy and grace and beauty and all that is the fullest life when I must stay numb to losses and crushed dreams and all that empties me out?"  Ann Voskamp

I have been wrestling for weeks with those exact feelings and thoughts.  This morning I woke up to a scream...it was my own...in my dreams...my heart pounding and I struggled to even catch my breath.  Anxiety.  I can feel the beginnings of a true panic attack coming on.  I gulp in air.  Close my eyes shut.  Try to steady my breathing and shove the rising panic back down...so deep that maybe this time...as I exhale...I'll breathe out all that's building up threatening to erupt...inside out.

I grab my phone 4:17 a.m.

I cannot go back to sleep.  I cannot lie in bed and pretend like today isn't going to happen. 

I grab my gym clothes in the dark and head to Spin class.  Maybe I can sweat the panic away.  The music blasts and the teacher says, "What do you want to be more of?"  I lower my head.  All I can think of is broken.  I clutch my towel to my lips and sob.  Thank God it's dark and no one can hear me.  The heaviness of my situation seems to pull the entire class down.  Like a black hole...I wish it would just swallow me up.  I am tired of being brave.  Sick of answering people's questions.  And mostly, cannot bear the idea of looking into his big brown eyes and saying "good-bye".

failed adoption

failed adoption

I have never been good at letting go.  I am being told this is for the safety of my family.  I am beating myself up because I can see the pain of our broken one, but I am struggling to see the fear and terror of my other one.  I should be relieved.  Life should get much simpler...for us.  But I know that it won't...for him.  He's fought his entire existence and finally found a family but is too broken and too damaged to relax into it.  My husband's words still ring in  my ears after I told him about "the incident":  After I went inside, I almost threw up at the idea of how lucky we are that Jaden is ok.  It sickens me to think of...what could have been.  Why can I not see that?  Is something wrong with me???  Am I so foolish to believe that my love is enough to keep him from really hurting someone?  And where is my line?  What is too much?  Bruises heal, I find myself thinking.  But, abandonment?  There's no band aid for that.  The wave of panic rushes again.

Trust Him, Heather.  That's what two of my most beloved friends living the exact.same.things.but.different. told me separately in emails last night.  Trust.Him.  It is the only thought that slows the surge of fear.

And I do-ish.  I am still begging for a miracle.  I cannot fathom how we can get this far...only to stop now...but I am submitting my fears, my control, and my need to defend myself to any and all who have no idea what a decision like this entails.  I pray they never do.  I humbly bow in brokenness and choke on the words of judgment I have spewed in complete and total ignorance.  I don't have a clue how I am going to survive packing his things...again...or summons the strength to say goodbye...again. 

I am in the midst of a tsunami inside my mind...I am hoping for the parting of the Red Sea...that something will change and he can stay...but...I am willingly submitting my inability to save.  Only God can do that.  I have to trust Him.  Sigh.  I can feel the fear crashing all around me. 

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."  C.S. Lewis

Confessions of a bad home schooling Mama and even worse Granola

As I type, I pause to spoon (and not a clean adult-spoon in sight...so a plastic (gasp) toddler spoon it is) bites of Java Chip Ice-cream into my mouth.

This week alone I have ingested:  candy bars, coffee (real cow's milk and sugar), ice cream, chips, pizza (yes, I am gluten and dairy intolerant...and yes, I will spare you the toilet drama from said diet), etc.

One gets the picture.  I preach clean living, clean diets, exercise.  I believe it with my whole heart.  But in case you have failed to notice, I am EPICALLY IMPERFECT.

And let's discuss my failure as a Charlotte Mason homeschooling Mama, shall we????  Are you sitting down?  Bracing yourselves?  My.kids.are.doing.all.their.school.online.  My heroine probably just rolled over in her grave.  I am paying a monthly salary to an on-line learning site and letting them learn from what many would consider twaddle or entertainment (I won't use this post to expose the fact that my son LOVES this style...and...gasp of gasps...is LEARNING...).  And my electronics for half an hour a day and go spend quality time in nature???  PSSSHHHHAAAWWWW.

Don't get me wrong.  We do our chores.  We get our school completed (most days).  We just have about 2,222 other things to accomplish in a mere 24 hour period.  Today, I re-heated my coffee no less than six times.  SIX TIMES.  and still didn't finish it.  But this post tonight isn't about how horrible of a failure I feel like.

This post is an even greater confession:


My heart is so heavy, some days, if it weren't for all I had to do in and through Him...I would lie down and never get back up.

I have wanted a baby since I was a little girl.  Dreamed of the day I would become a Mom.  Tonight my insanely amazing 8 year old Mermaid jumped into my arms and wrapped herself around me and whispered:  I hope I am never too big to do this.  I buried my face into her neck and wished the same thing.

I'm stuck in a whirlwind of transitions.  I usually thrive in chaos...but...not this time. 

I have two moving out soon...and I don't have time to grieve. 

I have one moving back in soon...and I don't have time to prepare or rest. 

I have three who depend on me daily...and I don't have the heart to fall apart in front of them. 

I have friends with good intentions and lots of words and oh.my.Bible.verses....and I don't have the strength to tell them that they are drowning me with their unintentional judgement. 

I have Christians telling me it's "just Spiritual" (isn't it all????)...and I don't have the energy to tell them I've prayed more for my "one" than I dare admit...much less...suggest to them that I remove all love, hope, and control from them the first 8 years of their lives only to send them somewhere to be abused...then tell them all they need to do is "pray".  I gag on THAT kind of Christianity.  Shame on you if you're one of those.  Stop it.  Now.  Please, in the name of Jesus...stop.

I've spent the last two weeks driving to a hospital and staying the night on a unit with 9 children with various maladaptive behaviors.  Oddly, I feel the closest to God on that unit.  Cussing, spitting, attacking, tables and chair throwing, yelling, screaming (all hours of the night), and not one single child on that unit has an ounce of social skills.  They are all broken in one way or another.  They all have family members desperately seeking answers.  Helpless, broken as well.  But we all share one common thread:  transparency.  You can't hide your crazy on that unit.  And no one judges you.  It's a safe place for kids with issues (and the parents of said kids) to just be...kids.  There's one boy, besides my own in particular, that I have grown very fond of.  He practically body slams me with a hug and squeezes me tighter than any of the children in my home have ever squeezed.  I will miss him.  Deeply.  And he may never know the joy he brought to me in such a hard place of my life.  This broken-socially-ill-equipped young man.

I'm not mad at God (though I have begged for a baby...was brought one...and now am having to rip myself from her life).  I try to be mad at Him.  But in all honesty, I simply cannot be angry.  He is so very good.  Despite the pain of all this letting go and holding on and so on and so forth.  And He loves me even when I'm a bad granola (sometimes I don't even recycle).  He loves me even though I am teaching my children at home via the internet (disclaimer...I don't think this is a bad form of education...it simply goes against my typical hippie ways...but I don't believe in matching either...so who cares what I think, really!!).  He loves me even though I wanted Him to let this cup pass by and not adopt the child who brings such chaos.  He loves me even though I cry bitter tears over a baby that I have fallen so deeply in love with...I am quite sure...we will always have a connection.  He loves me enough to give me a love so fierce and so strong for my "one"...the broken, chaotic one...that I wouldn't trade all the newborn baby smells, gurgly noises, and across my chest toddler naps...for him.  I want him.  And I want Him. 

And when it's all said and done...I want my life...to be poured out...as a fragrant (though, I don't shower nearly as much as I should)...offering to the one who can Redeem and Restore.

So I'm an epic failure...but He's an epic failure lover.  And on that...I rest all my hopes and pain.