Let It Rain

Do you have a song that can literally transport you to an exact place and time of your life?  I love how music can unlock so many things---and that God so graciously gave us David (a musician) and the book of Psalms and many other accounts of music and instruments in His Word.

This song takes me to my husband's 1998 Hunter Green Ford Taurus (Toby---I miss you, Toby-the-Taurus).  We had just miscarried our first baby.  It.was.devestating.  I had wanted to be a Mother for as long I could remember...a deep, burning desire that eclipsed many other passions.  Children.  I have always loved them.  Even as a child.  12 weeks and no heartbeat or eagerly anticipated ultra sound video to watch and re-watch (there's just no words to capture *that moment*...a defining one for my husband and me, and our future, and our relationship).  We drove to the nearest Pizza place and I bitterly drank the biggest cup of caffeine for the first time in 3 months, and we shoved our pain in our mouths and wiped our tears away with greasy-comfort-food-fingers.  We discussed my up-coming surgery.  That day  I held my husband as he cried a cry I have never seen him cry since (real men feel...real men grieve...real men cry...just look at Jesus if you need further proof).  It's a special kind of grief and cry that accompanies the loss of a child...no matter the age or length of parenthood.

I boxed up all the baby things we had already acquired.  I boxed up all my emotions and disappointment.  I became strong-when-I-should-have-been-weak.  And then, as it seems I always do, I became weak-when-it-was-time-to-be-strong.  Hence, the aforementioned song and all it means to me.  I would blast it in our car.  I would scream at heaven and my only comfort was found in that He gave His Son, too.  He knew my pain.  I would slam my fists on the steering wheel.  I would cry so hard---I could barely breathe.  But this song would calm my spirits.  "The Lord Reigns..."

I became quite obsessed with getting pregnant IMMEDIATELY after my D&C (you're NOT supposed to do that).  I tracked my temp, checked my cervical *ahem* mucous, and *double ahem* fill-in-the-blank with my OA as much as possible.

We immediately got pregnant with J-bob.  Before the first 8 week exam I started bleeding.  I couldn't believe I'd been so foolish to get pregnant so soon after our loss.  I just knew that I had pushed my will into motion and was reaping the consequences.  The enemy tried to take my son 3 separate times during that pregnancy, but by God's amazing Grace...10 years later...I listen to him play with his little sister in his room.

Autism was the next thief.  It stole the joy, intentions, and dreams of the kind of childhood/motherhood I'd always expected.  It led me (unknowingly) to have a tubal ligation at a much.too.early.age.  A decision that has haunted me for years.  But God has brought 4 more children into our lives through adoption and/or fostering.  One of them is my teenager.  Born to someone else for someone else: US.  A joy, unexplainable.  A bond, indescribable.

Life with our "tod" has reinforced that I am MUCH better with babies and toddlers.  It's one of the first recognizable gifts God blessed me with.  Friends, family, and other foster families with newborns or soon-to-be newborns have further reinforced that I still so desperately desire to have a baby.  I have to choke down the thick lump of jealousy that sometimes creeps into my throat.  His ways are not my ways...His plans are not my plans...and I am humbled how He has given me more than I have ever asked for or dreamed of for myself.

Psalm 97

1The Lord reigns, let the earth be glad;

let the distant shores rejoice.

2Clouds and thick darkness surround him;

righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne.

3Fire goes before him

and consumes his foes on every side.

4His lightning lights up the world;

the earth sees and trembles.

5The mountains melt like wax before the Lord,

before the Lord of all the earth.

6The heavens proclaim his righteousness,

and all peoples see his glory.

Let it rain, Oh Lord, not my will but Thine be done.  May the People See Your Glory.  

pain

Do you ever have something so heavy on your heart that your body literally begins to ache?  the all-over-i-think-i-have-the-flu kind?

That's where I am right.now.

I am on night three of fitful sleep.  We've entered this land called adoption, see, and it's a volatile place to be.  One minute consists of the most tender of break throughs and the next minute an emotional or behavioral bomb explodes and leaves me to gather all the pieces of fragmented moments and words.  I try to bandage all the bleeding feelings and pain and behaviors as quickly as possible, but it's not nearly as easy as in the examples given by experts in my books.

The thing about biological children is that you make all the mistakes before they are old enough to know or care...you've figured eachother's buttons out well enough to lovingly dance around the rough days (or you've earned the secure, healthy attachment that gives them this amazing ability to look right past and see the good-Mommy trapped within crazy-pms-tired-Mommy).

Adopted children?  Mine are 8 and 13.  There's no clouding over the bad-Mommy moments with them.  And then the guilt sets in because you think you owe them perfection...as if my perfect-Mommying could undo all the pain and lack of Mommying they've experienced prior to our home...how short-sighted I can be.

There's the ticking time bomb right there.  Before.  It's easy to forget there even was a before...those blessed moments when everyone feels intact...together...attached.  And then BAM...like autism slaps in the face...so are the realities that they've not always been there...and it physically begins to hurt.  Because nothing that I do now or any day hereafter can take away what they've experienced in the past. 

{Pausing a moment to praise God for redemption and restoration.  It only took me 34 years to comprehend the magnitude of those gifts.}

We got a letter in the mail today from the State Police.  They spelled the OA's name wrong and didn't bother to even have our correct address in the report...why I am surprised that they consider my children's "alleged" abuse "unfounded" is beside me?  I literally skipped a breath.  I shoulder the pain of all that letter represents to them across my entire body tonight.  And the boy...the precious one with autism who also lived in that home...I cannot stop seeing his big eyes looking into mine when he asked if he could come with us, too?

Ugh.  it's gut wrenching. 

Tonight it isn't enough to "save" two.  There are countless children in need of a forever home.  This has been the hardest thing we've ever done, but MY GOD, that we would do MORE HARD things in His precious protection and will.  May I never run from the uncomfortable again.  May this only be the beginning.  May He use our story to inspire more people to seek His will in adoption.  I was angry for a day or two because I wanted to adopt a baby but He gave me older children...how humbled...how wrong...how small I feel tonight. 

My babies sleep safely and contentedly in thier beds.  They giggled and played and read themselves to sleep.  My teenager prayed for the safety of her former foster brother...but even greater...she prayed for the heart of her former foster mother to be changed.  May I walk in her example of love and forgiveness.  And may that woman truly seek God's help and change her ways and may no other child ever be hurt in that home again. 

As I fight the urge to be cynical and quote facts about abusers...I cling to  Jesus's encouragement to be more like the children.  How precious and easy their faith seems.  How blessed and changed I am by my sweet, amazing 13 year old daughter.  Sigh...the kindof sigh...that hurts.

Spontaneous birth

I think there is supposed to be a DHS adoption style part 2?  But it will have to be written by someone other than myself, because I doubt there's going to be much replication of our story.

After our home study was approved we jumped through what felt like about 1 million more hoops before we were given the blessed go-ahead to meet our children.  We were instructed to not bring the Ninja or Mermaid because the possibilities of the kid's reaction to their adoption news were endless.  It just so happened that the meeting was going to take place on OA's birthday.  It was to transpire at their therapist's office and beyond that, we had no idea what to expect.  We only knew that how the meeting went would determine the outcome for all future visits...no pressure...right?

I hardly remember any details about that drive...other than it seemed endless.  The kiddos were scheduled to be there half an hour before us so that the therapist could introduce our family's album and letter to them.  Plus, he wanted some time to run interference if they were upset (it is a total myth to think that every waiting child is elated with the idea of adoption...these children have been FORCED from their biological parent's lives and hurt by so many adults to include the system...why SHOULD they be excited?).  To our dismay, they arrived late and our precious son-to-be held the door open for us as we walked in.  We tried our best not to make eye contact and walked straight down the hall as if we were going somewhere else.  We hid in the bathrooms until enough time had passed for us to go inside.

I know exactly what they were wearing.  I know exactly where we were all sitting.  "T" (our 13 year old) wouldn't even make eye contact yet "J" (our 8 year old) was clutching our photo album and grinning from ear to ear saying how happy he was and when could he start Martial Arts?  My heart was pounding.  I could see OA's face registering unfamiliar territory and it made me talk faster and faster because he is our rock and if he is faltering then I'm surely going to sink us.  The therapist insisted that we go out of the sterile environment and get something to eat and meet back in an hour.

That was it...our big introduction.  And then we were alone just the 4 of us in our truck in the middle of a city we regularly get lost in trying to decide where to eat.  I immediately started asking questions trying to pull "T" out of her shell; I honestly have no idea which one it was, but she finally looked at me and started answering.  I can still hear the new-ness of their voices.  Hers so soft and tingly and his like melting wax.  My ears fell in love instantly.  "T" was like a fierce warrior...her face registers nothing unless she grants it permission.  Her brother is the exact opposite...his face is more animated than Saturday morning cartoons.  He cannot command a single part of his body to be still...the first few nights he even twitched in his sleep (I had to sleep on the floor beside his bed bc he was so scared...but that's jumping way ahead).

We decided on Chili's because that's the OA's territory and we got it to-go and went to the local book store.  "T" loves to read.  Right in the middle of the book store not even 20 minutes into our visit I stopped her and looked her straight in the eyes and asked, "What part about this adoption are you the most upset or scared about:  giving up your school and friends or the fear of getting hurt again?"  Right in the middle of the book store not even 20 minutes into our visit she looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I am NOT going to open myself up again to get hurt...I'm not going to let anyone in."  I took a deep breath and blinked back those very rebellious tears and replied, "I didn't have a very good childhood and one time Jon told me that I could push as hard as I wanted but he was not going anywhere...and he didn't...and if you would please...please...just give us one chance...I promise that we will fight with all we have and never give up on you."  Then the boys walked up and we just fell into position.  Like we had always had each other---yet for some reason had been separated for a while. 

When we got back to the therapist's office at some point the foster mom made a joke about the kids coming with us for the weekend.  We immediately jumped on the idea and said we'd been asking for that very thing all along.  The kids were begging in unison so the therapist pronounced it "divine intervention" and gave his blessings.  Several phone calls and details and car rides later, we were on our way home...with 4 children in our truck.  Happy birthday OA.

To say we were not prepared for them to come home with us is an understatement.  Oh how I took for granted the luxury of letting laundry pile up and letting the fridge grow empty.  I had planned to go grocery shopping while the OA took a nap when we got home...HA!  Instead we were scrambling around Wal-Mart for food.  "J" was a wild man.  I am used to children holding my hands and staying near...just because...not so for him.  He was off...like a light.  I cannot count on one hand how many times OA and I looked at each other and said, "oh great, we are going to lose him on our FIRST night together".  Of course, J-Bob was beside himself with worry.  I mean...a child who wanders off???  That's SO NOT COOL in his book.  "J" finally settled himself on the bottom of the cart with his legs stuck out and arms flung wide like superman.  Really, we were THAT family that night at Wal-Mart.

We got everyone fed and eventually in bed.  "J" was so terrified due to some horrible things he had been told.  Those details must wait.  But I eventually convinced him that those things would NEVER happen to him in our house, and I slept on our concrete floor by his bed.  I have never before in my life seen a child sleep like that.  He was even kicking the walls at some point in his sleep.  May God forgive me for the anger I still cling tightly to towards his former foster family.  Many things came out that weekend.  They explained so much of what we were seeing in "J"'s behavior.  The only words I can use to describe him are that he was like a caged wild animal who was finally let free.  {My God.  I pause to praise You for your incredible kindness and grace shown by giving us this precious child in need.}  Sigh.

The whole weekend is a blur.  I didn't sleep at all.  I couldn't even shower unless OA was readily available to be the "referee" in the event that the inevitable dispute would arise.  Sunday came along and it was time to pack bags and take them home.  "J" woke from a nightmare and told me he was very sad he had to go home.  I swore to him that I'd fight harder than I'd ever fought before to get him back with us as soon as possible.  His eyes flickered hope for one second and then fell dim.  My heart ripped in two.

I have failed to mention "T".  She was simply amazing.  I am quite sure that somehow she was born from us and sent somewhere else.  She was so open and so transparent.  There's so much I want to share but I feel like I need her permission.  The whole family fell instantly in love with her.  She didn't want to leave either, and I was shocked when she said she'd give up cheerleading and her school if she could just stay.  My heart ripped again.  How was I supposed to drive them home when they were already home???

This next part of the story is surreal.  It is probably one of the hardest and most horrible moments I have ever had to endure as a Mom.  "J" refused to get into the truck.  He was kicking and screaming and crying that he didn't want to leave us.  I was begging him to understand that we would see him next week (in the back of my mind I had already been formulating how badly I needed said week to game plan a survival guide for future weekends).  It was an infantile cry that broke my heart (again).  The whole family was crying except "T".  But she was trying to comfort her brother...a side she rarely shows.  It got so bad that we had to drop J-Bob and Mermaid off with a dear friend.  I called someone who, next to God, has played the single most pivotal role in our story.  She heard "J"'s cries and didn't stop making calls until she found someone who would listen.  And once someone realized he was safe...he gave them plenty of things to listen to.  There are a million details that simply cannot be shared.  But, I can say that God is bigger than I ever dreamed because we were able to turn that truck around and go pick up J and M and go home...all 6 of us.  And my heart babies are tucked snugly into their own beds as I type.

It hasn't been an easy few weeks. We haven't had a lot of "fun" moments.  It's been exhausting and excruciating.  Being a mother of 4 demands so much.  I miss my husband's arms.  I am having to share them with so many.  I think that's the part that's thrown me the most (that I don't like sharing him 24-7).  J-Bob and Mermaid have always been "Mama's kids"...but "T" is a "Daddy's girl" which is pushing Merci into becoming a "Daddy's girl" and Jaden is just floating along trying to make heads or tails of this brother whom doesn't understand rules.  "J" is going to be a "Mama's boy" through and through, and I rue the day anyone ever tries to hurt me.  I'm pretty sure he'd kill them...instantly.  His love is that fierce.  And that precious boy kept telling me how I needed to let HIM do things for ME because he owed it to me...sigh...I told him the only thing I want from him is good choices and for him to be a little boy...just be a child. 

So at the end of a couple of very hard days, I sit in humbled amazement.  That God would entrust my family with such a huge task.  That I would be blessed enough to be frustrated by my teenager's "attitude" and my boy's bickering.  Meanwhile, Mermaid is the blessed baby of the family who has somehow found herself in the perfect position to be loved and cherished by all...the constant calmer of the crazy people.  That I would crave my husband's arms...his attention and affection...blessed alone time.  I have been desperate and exhausted and angry and elated and frustrated and joyful...but I have never once felt empty.  God is my strength...my refuge...in Him do I trust.  Even when perspective alludes me...I can cling to His goodness...and rest in His mercies that are (oh thank You, God) new EVERY morning.

This is merely the beginning of our story.  I sit in eager anticipation to see what God will write tomorrow.  For tonight, I breathe in this moment of silence and kid breaths and thank Him for all He has done in our lives.  I have never known a thankfulness like I know in this very moment. 

The process...DCFS style..part one

I am sitting in my living room sipping coffee listening to nothing more than the air conditioning blow and the birds chirp outside my window.  No children to feed this morning (they are at my mom's), no husband to iron work clothes for (he is at a soft ball tournament), just the dogs, my coffee, my thoughts, and a really big grin on my face.

Today I ready our home for the monumental, frequently alluded to adoption-rite-of-passage:  the home study.

Most adoptions begin with the home study.  It's the foundation that all the rest of your paperwork builds upon.  It is the opportunity for licensed strangers to delve into your marriage, finances, childhood, parenting, education, home, sanity, etc.  It makes sense to begin with a home study because you cannot do anything until it has been completed and you have been deemed worthy of adopting (or fostering) a child...so I can finally put words to what has seemed so incredibly frustrating in our situation (which has by God's Grace moved much quicker than many in similar).

In our state, through the foster care system, the home study happens towards the end or more the middle of it all.  You better be firmly rooted in  knowing you're following God's will because when working with the state, you have ZERO luxuries...no sweet-voiced lady on the other end of the line walking you through the next step (I have had contact with two adoption agencies whose sweet-voiced ladies, in and of themselves and their heart's for God and orphans, have sold me on their agencies...my how I have longed for their calm reassurance, prayers, and willingness to share the next step)...no realization of what the "next step" even is.  You have no rites what-so-ever until...wait for it...you got it:  you pass your home study.

 {a tiny taste of what kids trapped in the foster care system go through every single day}

...sigh...

So what does this process look like?  I can share what it's looked like for us thus far.

We began by attending an informational meeting in which we were given "the packet" (remember the meeting we left swearing we'd NEVER EVER foster parent or go through DCFS because we REFUSED to work for the state??  Yeah, I think God laughed at us that night, too).  "The packet" was full of background check information, finger printing, and so on and so forth.  Once this gets mailed back to DCFS the wait-of-the-watched-phone begins.

We were called and told we couldn't go to training because our background checks had not cleared.  This training only happens once or twice a year and God had parted the Red Sea (first of many) in the OA's schedule and heart to allow us to attend.  At this point, I reminded God that none of this was of my will (note NEVER EVER above) and if it was TRULY His plan for us to foster-adopt through the state, He was going to have to handle all of the details for me because all of it was totally out of my control (first of many).  A few days before the training kicked off we were given a pass to attend with the promise that we'd be kicked out if our background checks came back with anything on them.  The social worker then came over and did an initial home inspection.

Two full weekends in June to total 30 hours of training with a 2 hour First Aid and CPR certification in between (OA and I missed our children so much that month) landed us with another "packet".  The first one paled in comparison to this...the red folder...in which financial statements, physical exams, dog exams and shots, kiddo's immunizations (another Red Sea parting for those who know my feelings on this issue), home and auto insurance, emergency plans, diagram of home, home work from training, proof of every imaginable thing under the sun went into this red folder.  It was a labor of love.  Again, all of this we did in between the two training weekends (I thought it HAD to be turned in last day of class..it doesn't...just FYI...so don't kill yourself trying).  The surrendering of the red folder that Monday after training ended was as bittersweet as finishing up a really, really, really long run.

An entire whole story has been written by God in between that day and today...one I cannot wait to slowly begin to share...one that it will take time to put human words to.  Man, when He shows off, He shows off big.  

If I only knew that day why God had so generously given me the energy, endurance, and urgency to surrender that folder so quickly...sigh...I can't imagine what that-day granola would've said to this-day granola.  I'm positive that she wouldn't for one second believe she was about to double her children, soon be raising a teenager, and have a love for two children that defies all logic because seeing as how her home study hasn't even occurred, she isn't allowed to know much more than what their faces look like on a heart gallery photolisting...a place that strangers can even see...knowledge that anyone can know.  Double sigh.  That tired granola who was driving their-then-car with no air conditioning was surrendering so much more than her family's red folder and heart work.  She was about to embark on one of the coolest journeys God has ever called her family.

And tomorrow...tomorrow...we have our home study!!

Quiet strength & family

My last post was about the bit of wisdom handed to my children during their belt promotion ceremony.  I couldn't wait to hear what my OA's words of wisdom would include.  It's a very interesting thing to hear a man's interpretation of another man; it is something I think more men need to experience more often.

Why it shocked me, I will never know.  Maybe because it's something that I feel every single day.  Something that I have written about and acknowledged and know in my inner most core to be every bit true:  quiet strength.  It almost felt odd to have it spoken in a room full of people.  Like a hidden treasure was being exposed for all to see.  Again, tears swelled high and threatened to spill over onto my cheeks.  And then another word family mentioned:  family...a man with quiet strength investing in his family.

That's my man.  That's what I have the privilege of seeing every single day.  I was watching him sleep the other evening, and I realized that he makes me want to be a better person, a better wife, a better mother, a better homemaker, a better home educator, just better.  I don't think that I have recognized that until recently.  My Hero has changed.  He's always been remarkable, but something still and small has overcome him.  He credits reading his Bible.  We both credit God.  I don't even hold my breath waiting in anxious anticipation for the good to disappear anymore.

My precious, amazing God---so overwhelmingly gracious to give me everything my heart could ask for and desire:  a man with a strength loud enough to calm my crazy ways yet soft enough to wait as my fragile and bruised heart mended and slowly exposed itself to his.  What a beautiful picture of His love for us.

Deep-thankful-sigh 

Wow and a rather long announcement

I have really been trying to figure out how to "announce" this.  It's so personal and yet so vital that others are apart of this journey as it's really a commandment for all of us in one way or another.  What on EARTH am I blathering on about now?  Dairy?  Red 40?  Autism?  Marriage?  The kids?

Well, yes.

And, no.

And everything in between.

The "wow" from my title comes from my re-reading an entry that I had written in June of 2009:  Foster parenting.  There are just so many reasons to "wow" the re-reading of my own prayers from the past.  It's been nearly THREE years since I posted that.  I attended the class.  I received tons of information in the mail--- many of which had pictures of adorable third-world country babies posted all over it to which my adorable kiddos would beg of me to please bring home.  It would nearly rip my heart into pieces.  I finally just stopped asking.  I even stopped praying for it (well...mostly), resolving myself to the fact that it was not my husband's desire. He is usually always right when it comes to big life decisions. 

Periodically he would come home and bring up having my tubal reversed so that we could try to have more children.  Something inside him was stirring.  I love how subtle God can be.

Fast forward to a few months ago.  I posted the post:  Ummm...wow...it's already been a YEAR?

Apparently, my Hero read my post.  Apparently, he started to really pray and ask God what His will was for our family.  Apparently, he started talking about it and asking questions at work.  Apparently, his heart was slowly changing.  Apparently, he called his parents to let them know we were considering and would be taking first steps...which was when I realized:  this is really happening.

I immediately removed any and all distractions from my life and began to pour myself into God's word and several recommended books.  I can't really explain the eerie transformation that has occurred within my family in this very short time (or shall I say over the last three years).  There's a newness...or rather...an old familiarity to God being the very center of our lives and it is an amazing place to be.

I still say bad words, I still have bad thoughts, I still cling to every single drop of precious blood that He shed for my daily sins...but...I also savor the redemption and restoration He promises and offers.

By no means do we think that our future will be easy.  Actually, we are quite aware of just how close to hell parenting can bring us.  My only explanation lies in one afternoon's and one evening's events and a heart desperate for wanting to do His will.  I was watching my Hero build a huge stick fort in our backyard with the kiddos. I couldn't shake the gnawing realization that what we have should be shared with those who have not (kind of freaked me out reading nearly the same thoughts penned 3 years ago); and in the wee hours of a few evenings later, my Hero echoed those exact sentiments (I had not shared those thoughts with him).  We realized that God had written the same thing across each of our hearts.  So whether we are crazy, or sane, or terrified, or ecstatic or all of them in one, we are taking the plunge into the world of foster-adoption.

"If God has been generous with you, he will expect you to serve him well.  But if he has been more than generous, he will expect you to serve him even better."   Luke 12:48 CEV

"If you try to save your life, you will lose it.  But if you give it up for me, you will surely find it."  Matthew 10:39 CEV