I can't tell you that yesterday was any different than any other day. The rage coming from her came upon us out of the blue, like it always does - only it didn't end, it wouldn't be soothed, and it continued to grow as the hours passed us by.
Our first child to ever want to leave... our first call for help to come... our first time to have to make that gut wrenching decision to choose the safety of all, over the saving of one. She asked to leave... I didn't want to let her go.
I wanted to help her. I wanted to be the one. I wanted to soothe it away, and walk that road no one had ever walked with her, and I wanted to save her little self.
And I had to let go. We had to let go.
And she's "out there", and in less than 24 hours been moved twice, and they keep calling here asking "for help"... and I can hear her wail... and I can't get to her anymore.
Last week I was in great need... and my friend so desperately wanted to come to my home and clean and cook and love my children... but she was prevented from coming... She had to "let go" and trust that God would care for me in some other way.
And He did. And she learned to let go and trust Him.
How do we let go?
Father, hold her when I can't, protect her while we aren't, and love her like only You can. Defend her, console her, minister to her, heal her, stand in the gap for her, fight for her, whisper to her soul...
Show me that even in this I can trust You, and I can let go... because you never will.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Update:
Guess who was dressed and ready for school this morning?
Mom = 4
Happy Child = 1 (We'll give her a point for choosing well!)
Mom = 4
Happy Child = 1 (We'll give her a point for choosing well!)
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
The Battle
Picture our home: 8:00am - Everyone (except my little man, who is sick on the couch) is dressed and ready with bows in their hair and a song in their heart. Well, almost everyone.
One little dear, is still in her pajamas. Due to the 3rd grade classroom in 1/2 hour. Surly-Faced. And. Not. Going. To. Move.
Oh, dear.
I had my willing and cheerful daughter go pick clothes out for this pajama clad dear. When they were presented to her, she promptly went and picked out her OWN choice of clothes and put them on. OK, not nice... but at least we were moving in the right direction.
I checked the time. If we RAN out the door now, we would make it just in time.
My son, sick on the couch with a headache and sore throat watches the battle as it heats up between my 3rd grade little darlin' and myself. He's watching closely - knowing his mom always wins... and also probably wondering "how" I might come out the victor in this situation.
I was wondering myself. A quick prayer for wisdom, and I quickly ushered the other four out to the van. It was important to at least create the appearance that I was in charge...
Her hair in knots, and standing "out to here" from her head, she sits... sulking in the rocking chair - and announces she "will not" be putting on those shoes.
She may not - but I CAN! I gently take Cinderella's foot in my hand and put her foot into the boots, all the while reminding my darling that it looks like she's having a bumpy morning, and that I do care, ever so much for her... but that it is important to get to school on time each day.
She bursts into tears and kicks off her boots.
A quick glance at the clock tells me that we'll be at least 15 minutes late. Well, that's not so bad... We'll be "fashionably" late to school.
I inform our little battler that we WILL be going to school now. Would she like to walk to the car WITH, or WITHOUT shoes? She chooses without.
All goes well until she chooses not to walk any further. Taking her coat off and tossing it on the sidewalk, she snuggles her toes into her coat. Mental Note: Wash Coat.
Well now... what to do? An audience of four is 10 feet away in the van. I can't pull her into the car (you might be able to lead a HORSE to water, but....)
And so I did what any other self assured mother would do in this case.
I picked her up like a bride going over a threshold... and carried her to the van.
Mom = 1
Surly Child = 0
My victory was short lived. The seat belt I had put on my little darlin' had been removed. Out of the van I slid, until I reached the giant door on the side. Slinging it open I quickly (we were SO late now) explained to her that seatbelts were the law, and if I needed to dial 911 for a policeman to come explain the law to her, we could. (Can you even imagine, girls? "911 what is your emergency?" Me: "Um. Well. My foster daughter won't get buckled." Oh, the humbling we receive when we choose to foster broken children!)
Luckily, the seatbelt was re-fastened.
Mom = 2
Surly Child = 0
Ah - Hah! Now we're talking. I had some momentum going and I was going to use it!
We got to school, now 1/2 hour late, and from from the backseat come the words "I'm not going to get out of the car".
"No problem!" I interject. "We are now at school, where I am no longer the one in charge. I will just run in to the Principal's office and have her come extract you from the van.
Boots fly onto feet, and the crazy-haired child is now standing on the curb.
Mom = 3
Surly Child = 0
After obtaining their tardy passes, two children head off to class. One is much happier than the other.
I explain my morning (and my wet hair appearance) to the secretary who has a good laugh over my story, pats me on the back and sends me on my way.
Oh my. I'm SO tired and it's only 9:07am. This is definitely going to be a baking morning. Yes, this day has "baking therapy" written all over it.
I've got to run... my oven has now preheated.
One little dear, is still in her pajamas. Due to the 3rd grade classroom in 1/2 hour. Surly-Faced. And. Not. Going. To. Move.
Oh, dear.
I had my willing and cheerful daughter go pick clothes out for this pajama clad dear. When they were presented to her, she promptly went and picked out her OWN choice of clothes and put them on. OK, not nice... but at least we were moving in the right direction.
I checked the time. If we RAN out the door now, we would make it just in time.
My son, sick on the couch with a headache and sore throat watches the battle as it heats up between my 3rd grade little darlin' and myself. He's watching closely - knowing his mom always wins... and also probably wondering "how" I might come out the victor in this situation.
I was wondering myself. A quick prayer for wisdom, and I quickly ushered the other four out to the van. It was important to at least create the appearance that I was in charge...
Her hair in knots, and standing "out to here" from her head, she sits... sulking in the rocking chair - and announces she "will not" be putting on those shoes.
She may not - but I CAN! I gently take Cinderella's foot in my hand and put her foot into the boots, all the while reminding my darling that it looks like she's having a bumpy morning, and that I do care, ever so much for her... but that it is important to get to school on time each day.
She bursts into tears and kicks off her boots.
A quick glance at the clock tells me that we'll be at least 15 minutes late. Well, that's not so bad... We'll be "fashionably" late to school.
I inform our little battler that we WILL be going to school now. Would she like to walk to the car WITH, or WITHOUT shoes? She chooses without.
All goes well until she chooses not to walk any further. Taking her coat off and tossing it on the sidewalk, she snuggles her toes into her coat. Mental Note: Wash Coat.
Well now... what to do? An audience of four is 10 feet away in the van. I can't pull her into the car (you might be able to lead a HORSE to water, but....)
And so I did what any other self assured mother would do in this case.
I picked her up like a bride going over a threshold... and carried her to the van.
Mom = 1
Surly Child = 0
My victory was short lived. The seat belt I had put on my little darlin' had been removed. Out of the van I slid, until I reached the giant door on the side. Slinging it open I quickly (we were SO late now) explained to her that seatbelts were the law, and if I needed to dial 911 for a policeman to come explain the law to her, we could. (Can you even imagine, girls? "911 what is your emergency?" Me: "Um. Well. My foster daughter won't get buckled." Oh, the humbling we receive when we choose to foster broken children!)
Luckily, the seatbelt was re-fastened.
Mom = 2
Surly Child = 0
Ah - Hah! Now we're talking. I had some momentum going and I was going to use it!
We got to school, now 1/2 hour late, and from from the backseat come the words "I'm not going to get out of the car".
"No problem!" I interject. "We are now at school, where I am no longer the one in charge. I will just run in to the Principal's office and have her come extract you from the van.
Boots fly onto feet, and the crazy-haired child is now standing on the curb.
Mom = 3
Surly Child = 0
After obtaining their tardy passes, two children head off to class. One is much happier than the other.
I explain my morning (and my wet hair appearance) to the secretary who has a good laugh over my story, pats me on the back and sends me on my way.
Oh my. I'm SO tired and it's only 9:07am. This is definitely going to be a baking morning. Yes, this day has "baking therapy" written all over it.
I've got to run... my oven has now preheated.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
First Movie...
We took the kids to the movies on Friday night. Seven seats filled - all in a row. Made me smile.
We sat through the previews, and I looked over at my two tiniest charges. All wide eyed and happy. Since we had come to see Tangled, the previews ended and the movie began with that grand site of Cinderella's Palace. "Ohhhh"... the sound escaped from my smallest, sparkly-eyed girl. I smiled.
And then she hopped out of her seat and asked for her coat.
Can you guess?
She thought it was over. It turns out that my littlest two have never been to see a movie at the theater before. These are my favorite parts - finding these "firsts" in their lives and providing them.
I'm sure we're the last family on earth to see Tangled... (we waited for it's debut in the $3 theater). I'm banking on the fact that you've seen it too.
Remember when Rapunzel slides down her hair and tucks her feet up under her when she's only four inches from the ground? And then when she finally gathers her courage and touches her bare feet to that soft grass, wriggling her toes into the the blades - and we watch her dance and jump and touch her toes into the water, and we see her in her first moments of being free...
And just when you're all delighted for her, you're suddenly watching as she's huddled in a mass, worried and torn over the freedom she's experiencing that she's KNOWS her mother wouldn't be pleased with.
Well - there it is. That's my life! Our babies struggle to overcome their fear of each particular "first", then dance with delight in their freedom, finally collapsing in a state of guilt; so conflicted they are to be delighting in anything while mom is "alone" and living "without"... they know it... they used to live "without" right alongside her.
It's an adventure, to say the least, and one that is full of unexpected turns and twists of exhilarating highs and devastating lows. And it's the hardest, best thing I have ever done in my life.
We sat through the previews, and I looked over at my two tiniest charges. All wide eyed and happy. Since we had come to see Tangled, the previews ended and the movie began with that grand site of Cinderella's Palace. "Ohhhh"... the sound escaped from my smallest, sparkly-eyed girl. I smiled.
And then she hopped out of her seat and asked for her coat.
Can you guess?
She thought it was over. It turns out that my littlest two have never been to see a movie at the theater before. These are my favorite parts - finding these "firsts" in their lives and providing them.
I'm sure we're the last family on earth to see Tangled... (we waited for it's debut in the $3 theater). I'm banking on the fact that you've seen it too.
Remember when Rapunzel slides down her hair and tucks her feet up under her when she's only four inches from the ground? And then when she finally gathers her courage and touches her bare feet to that soft grass, wriggling her toes into the the blades - and we watch her dance and jump and touch her toes into the water, and we see her in her first moments of being free...
And just when you're all delighted for her, you're suddenly watching as she's huddled in a mass, worried and torn over the freedom she's experiencing that she's KNOWS her mother wouldn't be pleased with.
Well - there it is. That's my life! Our babies struggle to overcome their fear of each particular "first", then dance with delight in their freedom, finally collapsing in a state of guilt; so conflicted they are to be delighting in anything while mom is "alone" and living "without"... they know it... they used to live "without" right alongside her.
It's an adventure, to say the least, and one that is full of unexpected turns and twists of exhilarating highs and devastating lows. And it's the hardest, best thing I have ever done in my life.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Break my heart for what breaks yours...
"Break my heart for what breaks yours..."
Those were the words I sang this morning, the words that came singing right out of my soul. My heart's cry. If my heart doesn't break at the things it should, I will never be equipped for this task. Enter temptation: But if I don't hand over all of my heart - maybe I could keep it from breaking! That was my struggle this morning. I barely (I wish I could say BOLDLY... but honestly I'll tell you I just barely) agreed.
I remember, when I sang it, silently praying that "it wouldn't hurt too much"... Oh Lord, I don't know if I want to. I'm afraid. I'm tired of brokenness.
I know He's a Big God. I know his Healing Hand in my life, my heart, and my soul. I know He Loves. I know He is Mighty, Good, and Sovereign... this "Consuming Fire" I serve. But I never considered really, how He must break for all the pain in our lives. Break my heart for what breaks yours... God's heart breaking? Indeed.
"Break my heart for what breaks yours"...
I am quickly learning that you can't "kind of" do this job. You just can't. If you're going to walk this road with these broken hearted children, you're going to have to be "all in". It's going to hurt. You're going to have to sit right in the middle of all their pain and darkness and neglect and abuse and climb in on purpose. If you don't get in there with them, they'll never trust you enough to help you pull them out. And you can't get in there, without coming out with a broken heart.
"Break my heart for what breaks yours"...
And so we're driving home together and she begins to talk, and she begins to remember... something about this road always causes her to remember... and I try to listen without the recoil of my heart registering on my face... and my stomach begins to turn, and my heart begins to break under the weight of itself... I want to pull over and wrap my arms around this sweet child and make it go away. Take her pain away. And I want to ask her to stop. I don't want to know anymore.
But she is somehow not broken in this moment. She is so far removed and closed and scarred she just continues like a robot. I am the one left in the wake of it all. Holding this horrible package she has handed over. She looks lighter, a tad lighter. There is something in that, I suppose. I will choose gratefulness for this weight that has left her.
"Break my heart for what breaks yours"...
It's right. This plan of His. It's RIGHT that my heart is left broken. His heart is broken too. I think of all the pain suffered at the hands of evil all over the world... and throughout our planet's history... and He still stands?!? His heart breaks for every one and: HE. STILL. STANDS. I am one woman in a car, listening to a story retold, feeling the brokenness - feeling the weight of grief inside me... over one story I never even witnessed. I want to lie with my face on the floor and pour out this ache...
...But He was THERE. He was there in that moment with my new baby girl, and He was there in your moments, and mine, and for all the others you and I will never know about. AND. HE. STILL. STANDS?
How big of a heart must He have - that though He hurts, He loves on... and though it breaks, it never ends? He never pulls away, never quits, and never runs. I can't "kind of" do this job - not if I'm going to do it right. He has NEVER "kind of" loved me. NEVER. My God is "all in". He comes to sit with us in our mess, comes to bring healing, and restoration. He takes all our "horrible packages". And then He reaches down so we can take His hand... we can trust a God that THOUGH HE KNOWS HIS HEART WILL BREAK... HE COMES... and THOUGH HIS HEART BREAKS... HE STANDS. That's a hand we can trust to pull us out.
I want to love like He loves. I want my heart to break like His does. I want to be just like Him. I want to BE that kind of love. This morning, I "barely" agreed. This afternoon - I come "boldly". Teach me, Jesus - I want my heart to be just like yours.
Those were the words I sang this morning, the words that came singing right out of my soul. My heart's cry. If my heart doesn't break at the things it should, I will never be equipped for this task. Enter temptation: But if I don't hand over all of my heart - maybe I could keep it from breaking! That was my struggle this morning. I barely (I wish I could say BOLDLY... but honestly I'll tell you I just barely) agreed.
I remember, when I sang it, silently praying that "it wouldn't hurt too much"... Oh Lord, I don't know if I want to. I'm afraid. I'm tired of brokenness.
I know He's a Big God. I know his Healing Hand in my life, my heart, and my soul. I know He Loves. I know He is Mighty, Good, and Sovereign... this "Consuming Fire" I serve. But I never considered really, how He must break for all the pain in our lives. Break my heart for what breaks yours... God's heart breaking? Indeed.
"Break my heart for what breaks yours"...
I am quickly learning that you can't "kind of" do this job. You just can't. If you're going to walk this road with these broken hearted children, you're going to have to be "all in". It's going to hurt. You're going to have to sit right in the middle of all their pain and darkness and neglect and abuse and climb in on purpose. If you don't get in there with them, they'll never trust you enough to help you pull them out. And you can't get in there, without coming out with a broken heart.
"Break my heart for what breaks yours"...
And so we're driving home together and she begins to talk, and she begins to remember... something about this road always causes her to remember... and I try to listen without the recoil of my heart registering on my face... and my stomach begins to turn, and my heart begins to break under the weight of itself... I want to pull over and wrap my arms around this sweet child and make it go away. Take her pain away. And I want to ask her to stop. I don't want to know anymore.
But she is somehow not broken in this moment. She is so far removed and closed and scarred she just continues like a robot. I am the one left in the wake of it all. Holding this horrible package she has handed over. She looks lighter, a tad lighter. There is something in that, I suppose. I will choose gratefulness for this weight that has left her.
"Break my heart for what breaks yours"...
It's right. This plan of His. It's RIGHT that my heart is left broken. His heart is broken too. I think of all the pain suffered at the hands of evil all over the world... and throughout our planet's history... and He still stands?!? His heart breaks for every one and: HE. STILL. STANDS. I am one woman in a car, listening to a story retold, feeling the brokenness - feeling the weight of grief inside me... over one story I never even witnessed. I want to lie with my face on the floor and pour out this ache...
...But He was THERE. He was there in that moment with my new baby girl, and He was there in your moments, and mine, and for all the others you and I will never know about. AND. HE. STILL. STANDS?
How big of a heart must He have - that though He hurts, He loves on... and though it breaks, it never ends? He never pulls away, never quits, and never runs. I can't "kind of" do this job - not if I'm going to do it right. He has NEVER "kind of" loved me. NEVER. My God is "all in". He comes to sit with us in our mess, comes to bring healing, and restoration. He takes all our "horrible packages". And then He reaches down so we can take His hand... we can trust a God that THOUGH HE KNOWS HIS HEART WILL BREAK... HE COMES... and THOUGH HIS HEART BREAKS... HE STANDS. That's a hand we can trust to pull us out.
I want to love like He loves. I want my heart to break like His does. I want to be just like Him. I want to BE that kind of love. This morning, I "barely" agreed. This afternoon - I come "boldly". Teach me, Jesus - I want my heart to be just like yours.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Some more "firsts"...
First time at Joann's. (Can you EVEN imagine???)
First time holding a ball of yarn... and learning to knit.
First smile after school.
First hot lunch paid for with "my own money".
First time to meet "my real daddy"...
First sleepover.
First "Book Fair" purchase.
First time to thread a bobbin.
First time to turn on a dishwasher.
First time to be recognized for "good behavior" at school.
First Awana vests, and books, and completed memory verses!
First time a Daddy ever did story time.
First swimming pool.
... and every "first" fills me with so much gratitude for my Lord... He chose US to accomplish this task? We are so grateful to get to see His work up close in our very own "front row seats". Yesterday as I was studying the making of the Tabernacle I was reminded that the Lord equipped His workers for the tasks He appointed for them. . . meaning, I'm sure, that on their own they were not able to complete the work He had for them. They were only willing, obedient hearts. How honored they must have been... and how surprised, or should I say "delighted", at the outcome of their hands, they were able to achieve as God worked through them.
That's how it is over here. I keep finding myself being delighted by what's happening under this roof. I'm SO in over my head here, ladies. You DO know that, don't you? I need Him to equip me every single moment of each day to complete His work in this home. All I claim to be is willing. If there is any success to this task - it is the Work of my Father, that you can be quite sure of!
I have never been so far "out there". I'm "all in" now... there is no turning back, and without His faithfulness, it would all crash and burn in a minute. This is an exciting way to live; and all I want is more of Him! Bring on more firsts, Lord - I'm sitting right up front, I've got my popcorn ready, and I'm ready to watch you work!
First time holding a ball of yarn... and learning to knit.
First smile after school.
First hot lunch paid for with "my own money".
First time to meet "my real daddy"...
First sleepover.
First "Book Fair" purchase.
First time to thread a bobbin.
First time to turn on a dishwasher.
First time to be recognized for "good behavior" at school.
First Awana vests, and books, and completed memory verses!
First time a Daddy ever did story time.
First swimming pool.
... and every "first" fills me with so much gratitude for my Lord... He chose US to accomplish this task? We are so grateful to get to see His work up close in our very own "front row seats". Yesterday as I was studying the making of the Tabernacle I was reminded that the Lord equipped His workers for the tasks He appointed for them. . . meaning, I'm sure, that on their own they were not able to complete the work He had for them. They were only willing, obedient hearts. How honored they must have been... and how surprised, or should I say "delighted", at the outcome of their hands, they were able to achieve as God worked through them.
That's how it is over here. I keep finding myself being delighted by what's happening under this roof. I'm SO in over my head here, ladies. You DO know that, don't you? I need Him to equip me every single moment of each day to complete His work in this home. All I claim to be is willing. If there is any success to this task - it is the Work of my Father, that you can be quite sure of!
I have never been so far "out there". I'm "all in" now... there is no turning back, and without His faithfulness, it would all crash and burn in a minute. This is an exciting way to live; and all I want is more of Him! Bring on more firsts, Lord - I'm sitting right up front, I've got my popcorn ready, and I'm ready to watch you work!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The Interview
Riding together to Awana tonight, and my ears begin to tune in to our tallest long blonde-haired lady... and my son - conversing in the way back seat.
Thinking on it, I believe it's the first time I've seen them sitting together since the girls came to stay with us. It's as if they struck a deal - to "make friends"...
B - "But, why does she love us?"
R - "She just loves ALL kids!"
B - "Did she love the other kids that came to stay here... before us?"
R - "Sure! She loves ALL kids... even C----ay (the neighborhood bully I've heard so much about, that I had a chance to "love on" in the hall today at school)... shocking all three of my ladies - much to my delight..."
B - "Do ALL the kids obey her?"
R - "Well, yes! Because she just loves them, so they want to."
B - "Well, he's mean and I don't love him. (Referring to the bully mentioned above)."
R - "Well, my mom does."
B - "What did she tell you, before we came I mean?"
R - "That there were some girls that needed our family. We all sat down together and Dad told us. And we decided we wanted to be the ones to help."
B - "Well, I'm not going to have to come back here ever again, because my Mom is going to keep our house clean, and then we get to go home. She's going to get healthy for us."
R - "That's great! But I hope you DO come stay with us after you go home, at least to visit. I like having you here."
Well, ladies... at this point my eyes were so welled up with tears. Look at how He's blessing our family! Look at the maturity and reassuring way my "bouncy boy" offered his new "for now" sister! R is focusing this week on asking the Lord to help him see the needs of others. I can't wait to hold him in my arms tonight and tell him how proud I was to hear how he made himself available to God working in him.
And look how God is helping her go through this "testing" process.... testing to see if we are "real"... and how smart she is to ask another child (the fastest way to find out the "truth" about a grown up!). Thank you Father, for giving her the idea to ask R about this "new love" she's encountering here, and it's authenticity.
I am grateful. I am hopeful. I think it's beautiful...
Current Prayer Request: For continued longevity of stay. Looks like things may take a new turn, and we're praying for time... more time. Just a little more time to make a difference, a lasting, life changing, soul steadying kind of difference. We're asking God to release His angels to war for "our" babies. Let's stand together, shall we?
Thinking on it, I believe it's the first time I've seen them sitting together since the girls came to stay with us. It's as if they struck a deal - to "make friends"...
B - "But, why does she love us?"
R - "She just loves ALL kids!"
B - "Did she love the other kids that came to stay here... before us?"
R - "Sure! She loves ALL kids... even C----ay (the neighborhood bully I've heard so much about, that I had a chance to "love on" in the hall today at school)... shocking all three of my ladies - much to my delight..."
B - "Do ALL the kids obey her?"
R - "Well, yes! Because she just loves them, so they want to."
B - "Well, he's mean and I don't love him. (Referring to the bully mentioned above)."
R - "Well, my mom does."
B - "What did she tell you, before we came I mean?"
R - "That there were some girls that needed our family. We all sat down together and Dad told us. And we decided we wanted to be the ones to help."
B - "Well, I'm not going to have to come back here ever again, because my Mom is going to keep our house clean, and then we get to go home. She's going to get healthy for us."
R - "That's great! But I hope you DO come stay with us after you go home, at least to visit. I like having you here."
Well, ladies... at this point my eyes were so welled up with tears. Look at how He's blessing our family! Look at the maturity and reassuring way my "bouncy boy" offered his new "for now" sister! R is focusing this week on asking the Lord to help him see the needs of others. I can't wait to hold him in my arms tonight and tell him how proud I was to hear how he made himself available to God working in him.
And look how God is helping her go through this "testing" process.... testing to see if we are "real"... and how smart she is to ask another child (the fastest way to find out the "truth" about a grown up!). Thank you Father, for giving her the idea to ask R about this "new love" she's encountering here, and it's authenticity.
I am grateful. I am hopeful. I think it's beautiful...
Current Prayer Request: For continued longevity of stay. Looks like things may take a new turn, and we're praying for time... more time. Just a little more time to make a difference, a lasting, life changing, soul steadying kind of difference. We're asking God to release His angels to war for "our" babies. Let's stand together, shall we?
Monday, March 14, 2011
So... which one of you is praying?
Wow. The power of prayer. Of standing together and fighting on behalf of children who can't fight for themselves. My sweet man and I aren't alone in this - we know all of you are standing with us... tonight is a reminder to that fact.
Tonight... makes me want to laugh. Was it really just three hours ago when I told you I was "wearing down" and that I was issuing a "cry for help"?
Well... the hours that followed were filled with many blessings. Here are a few:
Four sweet baby girls (only one with knitting skills) sitting in a line on the couch, each with a giant ball of "fluffy" yarn. And we begin to learn, and there are moments where our hands touch, in the learning, and no one pulls away.... and words begin to soften, and hearts begin to lighten, and everyone begins to forget to be cold...
Making daddy's lunch and peels of laughter over an English accent and applesauce...
Two little school girls and eyes of wonder as Daddy asks them to let them know what their hearts desire would be at the book fair... because he's going to send me to school to meet them and we're going to "bring it home"...
For John 3:16 and tomorrow is Awana and "what does not perish mean?" ...and "GUYS! You gotta' come in here! I believe in Him! I'm gonna' live forever!!!"
One little girl's first try tomorrow at "hot lunch"...
Story time, and prayers, and pretending to be asleep when I tell her what I love about her and my favorite part of my day with her and then... three little first time spoken words (at bedtime that is) "I love you." Aaah. A balm to my soul...
Time with my son, alone time... that goes well... and I learn of his heart to want more of Jesus... and we are reminded together that it's only as we go to Him that He fills us, and changes us... and it's a good reminder... because I want to be just like Him...
...and then I'm leaving their girl filled bedroom... and my tall one - the one that has issued the order for pain all day today... calls to me.... "come say goodnight to ME... come touch my hair again..."
Oh, we're getting somewhere girls. Thank you for standing up for my girls - for walking with me when I'm too tired, and too hurt... and for standing me up again...
Tomorrow... round two... ding!
Tonight... makes me want to laugh. Was it really just three hours ago when I told you I was "wearing down" and that I was issuing a "cry for help"?
Well... the hours that followed were filled with many blessings. Here are a few:
Four sweet baby girls (only one with knitting skills) sitting in a line on the couch, each with a giant ball of "fluffy" yarn. And we begin to learn, and there are moments where our hands touch, in the learning, and no one pulls away.... and words begin to soften, and hearts begin to lighten, and everyone begins to forget to be cold...
Making daddy's lunch and peels of laughter over an English accent and applesauce...
Two little school girls and eyes of wonder as Daddy asks them to let them know what their hearts desire would be at the book fair... because he's going to send me to school to meet them and we're going to "bring it home"...
For John 3:16 and tomorrow is Awana and "what does not perish mean?" ...and "GUYS! You gotta' come in here! I believe in Him! I'm gonna' live forever!!!"
One little girl's first try tomorrow at "hot lunch"...
Story time, and prayers, and pretending to be asleep when I tell her what I love about her and my favorite part of my day with her and then... three little first time spoken words (at bedtime that is) "I love you." Aaah. A balm to my soul...
Time with my son, alone time... that goes well... and I learn of his heart to want more of Jesus... and we are reminded together that it's only as we go to Him that He fills us, and changes us... and it's a good reminder... because I want to be just like Him...
...and then I'm leaving their girl filled bedroom... and my tall one - the one that has issued the order for pain all day today... calls to me.... "come say goodnight to ME... come touch my hair again..."
Oh, we're getting somewhere girls. Thank you for standing up for my girls - for walking with me when I'm too tired, and too hurt... and for standing me up again...
Tomorrow... round two... ding!
Ups and Downs
The honeymoon is over. In case any of you wanted to know... I'm writing to you as I lay in bed, claiming the 30 minutes David has so generously given to me for a bit of "mental health". Consider this my "cry for help". I'm too tired to build the fire to send a smoke signal.
Tomorrow marks three weeks since our life took a dramatic turn. Today marks day one of three girls finding me in the "cross hairs" and working together to break me down. If I wasn't a seasoned foster mom, I would be more optimistic that today was just a passing "fluke". I know better.
We're now entering the long, drawn out process of testing. Like a two year old's testing - it will be long. I must remain steadfast, gentle, and consistent. With every blow to my heart, they are asking without words "do you love me... do you love me, if I hurt you? Do you love me even now?"...
I must answer in love. Inside me, things are beginning to wear down - and how could this be - on the day after returning from such a lovely break? I should be rejuvenated. I am not. I am beginning to wear. And those blows... will I never get used to them? Understanding the "why" and the "where they come from" you think it should help, but Ow! here they come, and Oh! I didn't see that one coming, and Ouch! here comes another.
And then He speaks to me. Reminding me of His sacrifice... of all He gave up for me. And I am reminded once more of the real cry of my heart:
I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings. (Philippians 3:10)
Pray for me, as I hand my heart over each day to be tested by these girls. Pray that I continually look to my Father for strength, and remember to draw only from His well of love - so that it may pour out on these girls in the consistency and selflessness of my Heavenly Father. And that I might be reminded of my place of honor as a Daughter of the King - and find strength in this fellowship of sharing in His sufferings.
Start praying girls... I'm off to teach 3 girls to knit... pray nobody pokes an eye out...
Tomorrow marks three weeks since our life took a dramatic turn. Today marks day one of three girls finding me in the "cross hairs" and working together to break me down. If I wasn't a seasoned foster mom, I would be more optimistic that today was just a passing "fluke". I know better.
We're now entering the long, drawn out process of testing. Like a two year old's testing - it will be long. I must remain steadfast, gentle, and consistent. With every blow to my heart, they are asking without words "do you love me... do you love me, if I hurt you? Do you love me even now?"...
I must answer in love. Inside me, things are beginning to wear down - and how could this be - on the day after returning from such a lovely break? I should be rejuvenated. I am not. I am beginning to wear. And those blows... will I never get used to them? Understanding the "why" and the "where they come from" you think it should help, but Ow! here they come, and Oh! I didn't see that one coming, and Ouch! here comes another.
And then He speaks to me. Reminding me of His sacrifice... of all He gave up for me. And I am reminded once more of the real cry of my heart:
I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings. (Philippians 3:10)
Pray for me, as I hand my heart over each day to be tested by these girls. Pray that I continually look to my Father for strength, and remember to draw only from His well of love - so that it may pour out on these girls in the consistency and selflessness of my Heavenly Father. And that I might be reminded of my place of honor as a Daughter of the King - and find strength in this fellowship of sharing in His sufferings.
Start praying girls... I'm off to teach 3 girls to knit... pray nobody pokes an eye out...
Friday, March 11, 2011
Acting Out... (operative word "acting"...)
Today God decided I needed some comic relief. And BOY did he supply me with a large amount today (not to mention a healthy dose of humbling, destroying any pride I may have had up to this point in my life; but you all know the "pants story"... there wasn't much pride left anyway.)
Picture me in all my glory in front of a bunch of fifteen boys beginning my stop motion animation class. In pops the face of another Co-op Mom I love, requesting my presence in the hall. Could she just have a moment of my time? It's regarding my son. (Oh, dear). I quickly glance at "said son" as she makes this request (he is one of those 15 boys), and he immediately becomes quite interested in something on the floor. Uh-huh. This isn't going to be good. She is not coming to tell me "what a joy" he is in class - you know it too, don't you?... and I knew it right then too.
It seems my dearly loved young man was having trouble "being a blessing" (my words) in class. He colored on other people's papers, could not share the glue, and grabbed the vacuum from another child. There was more, but I'll spare you.
After someone inquired "why" my beloved would behave in such an unkind way, he offered the best explanation he could offer. I'm sure you all will be able to sympathize with him as well. He was under stress. Well - you all understand, I'm sure. In fact my dear boy most certainly must have known that after he explained to his teacher how he "WAS IN FOSTER CARE" and was "ABOUT TO BE ADOPTED", and was therefore "GOING THROUGH A LOT OF CHANGES", she offered him much needed sympathy?!?
...I about died. Right there in the hall. I held it together long enough to invite my darling into the hall to "come clean", revealing his true heritage to his instructor. This humbling event was followed up by a clearly defined "new normal" for my son which will require him to focus his attention on Things That Are True - and will fill MOST of his waking moments for the days to come. Beginning with a letter to Said Teacher.
Apparently, it wasn't until another mom, who knows us well, enlightened her to the fact that my dear boy is indeed a "child of my womb" that she decided I maybe needed to be informed. And it wasn't until later in this day (much later!) that the hilarity hit me square in the face, and I decided YOU needed to be informed. We should all remember to laugh at moments like these... these humbling little moments of motherhood.
Thanks Lord, for my son... and how you made him... help me mold him Lord - make him just like you. . . and while we all wait for you to finish that Work in him - thanks for the laughs... I needed it!
Picture me in all my glory in front of a bunch of fifteen boys beginning my stop motion animation class. In pops the face of another Co-op Mom I love, requesting my presence in the hall. Could she just have a moment of my time? It's regarding my son. (Oh, dear). I quickly glance at "said son" as she makes this request (he is one of those 15 boys), and he immediately becomes quite interested in something on the floor. Uh-huh. This isn't going to be good. She is not coming to tell me "what a joy" he is in class - you know it too, don't you?... and I knew it right then too.
It seems my dearly loved young man was having trouble "being a blessing" (my words) in class. He colored on other people's papers, could not share the glue, and grabbed the vacuum from another child. There was more, but I'll spare you.
After someone inquired "why" my beloved would behave in such an unkind way, he offered the best explanation he could offer. I'm sure you all will be able to sympathize with him as well. He was under stress. Well - you all understand, I'm sure. In fact my dear boy most certainly must have known that after he explained to his teacher how he "WAS IN FOSTER CARE" and was "ABOUT TO BE ADOPTED", and was therefore "GOING THROUGH A LOT OF CHANGES", she offered him much needed sympathy?!?
...I about died. Right there in the hall. I held it together long enough to invite my darling into the hall to "come clean", revealing his true heritage to his instructor. This humbling event was followed up by a clearly defined "new normal" for my son which will require him to focus his attention on Things That Are True - and will fill MOST of his waking moments for the days to come. Beginning with a letter to Said Teacher.
Apparently, it wasn't until another mom, who knows us well, enlightened her to the fact that my dear boy is indeed a "child of my womb" that she decided I maybe needed to be informed. And it wasn't until later in this day (much later!) that the hilarity hit me square in the face, and I decided YOU needed to be informed. We should all remember to laugh at moments like these... these humbling little moments of motherhood.
Thanks Lord, for my son... and how you made him... help me mold him Lord - make him just like you. . . and while we all wait for you to finish that Work in him - thanks for the laughs... I needed it!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Little Joys...
Yesterday was David's birthday. I took the kids to the store to pick out David's favorite "treats", my plan being to allow each child to wrap one "gift" for Daddy to have at the table. I wanted them all to practice giving and finding joy in someone else's treasures.
Behind me in the store, I heard my littlest one squeal "I've GOT it!". She had a box of goldfish crackers. How cute is that? We got them.
Later as they were all signing his birthday cards, she had Abbs write for her "thank you for letting us come here". If that doesn't just sum it all up, huh? That's how we know we're on the right track.
And then there were "first time baked potatoes", first beds, first time in a drive thru, first week of completed homework, first time to make orange juice, first time at the dump, first Easter dresses (from Nanny and Poppy!), first time to meet a "gentle man", first time to touch a chicken (and the realization of where eggs come from!), and first time to take a lunch to school.
Where would they be if we'd said "no"? Yes, this was the right choice... this "labor of love", we are right where we are supposed to be!
Behind me in the store, I heard my littlest one squeal "I've GOT it!". She had a box of goldfish crackers. How cute is that? We got them.
Later as they were all signing his birthday cards, she had Abbs write for her "thank you for letting us come here". If that doesn't just sum it all up, huh? That's how we know we're on the right track.
And then there were "first time baked potatoes", first beds, first time in a drive thru, first week of completed homework, first time to make orange juice, first time at the dump, first Easter dresses (from Nanny and Poppy!), first time to meet a "gentle man", first time to touch a chicken (and the realization of where eggs come from!), and first time to take a lunch to school.
Where would they be if we'd said "no"? Yes, this was the right choice... this "labor of love", we are right where we are supposed to be!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Dandelion Heads...
"Mooooommmmmmmyyyyyy!!!!" I hear her calling. "Yes, baby?" I answer this blonde headed baby. I know it's going to be good, whatever it is - because she calls to me with that "first time discovery" voice we all know well as Mothers. I pick my head up from my work to find her standing before me, eyes bright in expectation that I too, will be caught up in the wonder of this great prize.
Holding her hands out, she extends to me the head of a dandelion. This treasure, her gift to me today. . .
Before I even realize it, the back door is slamming and she's off again to that great paradise we call the backyard.
I am left with this crumpled head of a dandelion, stemless and full of beauty to me. "Mommy". She called me Mommy. This little girl-child who came to me in the middle of the night just 12 days ago. My heart swells. For I know that her heart is beginning to embrace all that I am offering her. My Motherhood. She is beginning to delight in it...
A few days ago I heard her tentatively "try it out"... almost a whisper... "Mommy?"...
At first I wondered if she was not just aching again, mourning the loss of her own mother, calling out to her again in her grief as she had done - as they all had done - periodically throughout each day since they came. I would find them curled up somewhere, quietly sobbing, repeating their heart's cry over and over "Mommy... Mommy... Mommy..."
I checked the face of my raspy-voiced girl, and found no grief there... just expectant, brave little eyes - asking for so much more than my attention. Permission. "Will you mother me?" And over the last few days we have found our way together... found a way to walk together through her loss - and begin something new together... something wonderful. Motherhood. Security. Nurturing.
We're building something beautiful out of so much brokenness. She's learning to receive and count on someone else to care for her, and I am learning once again to drop the guard over my heart and allow another child, another three (!) to borrow my Mother Heart for as long as they need one.
A dandelion head, plucked from it's place - relocated to my hands by a child who recognized it's greater need - to be a gift of love. . . so much like the story of these baby girls. Three little baby girls, plucked from their home in the middle of the night, removed from their stem, relocated by a Heavenly Father who recognized their greater need - to receive a gift of love, to come receive a Mother's Gift of Love.
And it will only work as I look to my Father's Heart - learn to give as He did, and give everything for sake of Love.... Mother Love...
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