The Day We Never Wanted

We had been on this road before.  Our years as foster parent and adoptive parents had made us no stranger to psychiatric facilities.  We had loved on and prayed over a dozen kids over the years.  Always knowing a battle was being fought.  A battle the enemy wanted to win.  He didn't want our kids to know Christ.  He wanted them angry, bitter, and doubting.  He used their horrible past experiences to cause our kids to question how God could love them. To question if God existed. We were ready for the battle.  Confident in Christ.  Trusting without any guarantees about the future.

For we do not wrestle against 

flesh and blood, but against the rulers,

against the authorities, against the cosmic powers

over the present darkness, against the spiritual forces 

of evil in the heavenly places.  Ephesians 6:12

So this last trip to the psychiatric hospital should have been just like all the rest.  But this time it felt different.  Maybe because the kid in the backseat was having one of his best days in weeks.  Affectionate, loving, calm.  Maybe because he had no idea what was going to happen because for him this was just another doctor or therapist visit.  We had been to many over the last 2 years.  Each time changing this or tweaking that. ...suggesting this or that.  Maybe it was the last week of sleepless nights that had me in a daze.  A kid who couldn't or wouldn't sleep...escaping out windows to roam the neighborhood.  Maybe it was the overwhelming guilt. Maybe it was I was still worn out from the last big meltdown.  Hearing my son screaming profanities...completely out of control...so out of control my normal calming techniques and restraints were no match.  Maybe it was me questioning myself.  We had been here before time and time again..is it ME?  Am I the problem?  Maybe my kid is fine and I just don't know how to parent?

Maybe it was due to the fact that up until a couple of years ago this kid had seemed to beat the odds.  He had overcame the abuse and neglect.  His body had healed from the exposure to drugs and alcohol.  His heart had forgiven and was able to receive love.  He had attended a local college prep private school for several years and public school mainstream with no supports.  I remember watching from afar and thinking "he looks normal" and my heart leaped with joy!  We did it! We conquered!  We won!!  I needed that.  We had had so many failures over the past few years.  Adoption and parenting is not easy.  I needed a victory and I had it.

But then something shifted.  Everything changed.  Someone hit reset and we were back to square one.  Everything we had overcome was back.  The behaviors, the anger, the defiance were all back and multiplied.

We sought help, we prayed, we changed parenting techniques.  I cried.  A lot.  I got angry.  I was angry with God.  I was angry with myself.  I was angry with my husband.  Life wasn't fair...this wasn't fair!  I found myself pulling away from others.  I would put on a mask every day and go through the day but inside I was a mess.  I finally broke.  But my brokenness was just a dead calm...an emptiness.  It was almost as if I was watching the world around me spin and twirl and I moved in slow motion.  No color.  No sound.  Just silence.

So maybe that was why this trip was different.  Maybe I was not hopeful that they could help.

This time it was harder.  I left my son crying and begging to come home with us. Between tears he promised to be "good" and I was heartbroken.  Hearing him say he was cursed by God was devastating.  Had the enemy won?  Did we lose?  I cried the entire ride home.  My sweet husband reassuring me the whole ride home.  And slowly my life sped up.  The colors were back.  The sounds were back and I felt like someone was fast forwarding my life.  I laid down that night not sure how I could face the next day.  I was numb.  I was overwhelmed.  I was desperate.

But the new morning came and new mercies arrived.  The reality of our situation remained.  I was not transported to a different life.  I had my same life but I had hope.  I had joy.  I had God.  So I felt ready to face the day, the week, the years ahead.

My days now are filled with moments of sadness, fear, and hopelessness but I turn to God in prayer.  Those moments of emotion are fleeting.  I admit that my days now are almost a continuous prayer.  I wake at night and pray.  I find myself sitting and praying. I work and pray. Continually calling on the Lord.   I know that the only solution to our current situation is found in God.

You shall walk after the Lord your God and 

fear him and keep his commandments and 

obey his voice, and you shall serve him and 

hold fast to him.  Deuteronomy 13:4

My overwhelming prayer for my son and all my children is to love the Lord with all of their being.  To find joy in HIM alone.  In the middle of this life to find the solid ground of Christ.  I cannot protect them.  I want them to be broken for HIM.  I know how that sounds but I want them to be able to get to the point that God is their hope...their only hope.  

So as I am Growing Up on Dublin, I am letting go more and growing in the faith and knowledge of Christ in every struggle we face.  I know we will have many more trying times ahead but I have the hope and peace that can only come from Christ to sustain me.

My Perspective on Motherhood

As a first time foster parent my life was very different.  I didn't get to dream of a future with my kids. I never had baby showers.  I never met or saw my children before they arrived at our door.  I entered into the relationship without many details of their previous situations.  I never knew how long they would be with me.  I didn't plan extravagant birthday celebrations.  I didn't dream of their college or what great things they would accomplish in life.   I constantly was balancing between loving openly and unconditionally with not attaching too much that I couldn't go on after they left.  That balancing act lasted about a week.  I quickly realized that God had created me to be open with reckless abandon from the moment I met each child.  No matter their struggles.  No matter the behaviors.  I loved them.  Accepted them.  And never gave up hope for them.  I still haven't.  I think often of the foster children who were in our home that had left.  Some were reunited while others needed a different setting to thrive.

But I think the hardest part was praying fervently for their biological families to respond to God and be able to be reunited with their children.  This was a very humbling experience.  To place the biological families who were imperfect and many committed acts that almost seem unforgivable above my own desires.  My desire to be a mom.  I still pray for them.  I pray that one day my children can return and be a witness to them.

I think back and early on I thought love could conquer all.  Boy was I wrong.  Don't get me wrong love is essential but so much more is needed.  My love would never erase all the previous pain.  My love could not undue the biological changes that occurred due to drugs or alcohol abuse.  My love could not change the genetic disposition to mental illness.  My love could never quiet the voice inside that told my children they were not good enough.

So in the early years John and I decided that our mission as parents was to share God with our children.  Our purpose was for each of them to develop a love for Christ and never be concerned about cultivating a love for us as their parents.  We made it not about us.  Being a parent requires thick skin and being the parent of foster/adoptive kids that much more.   This was hard.  This meant never taking their words personally.  Never dwelling on the physical harm they may cause.  Never being concerned with the possessions that were shattered and broken in a rage.  And never promising I would always be there when I never had the knowledge to see the future. Never expecting they would love you as a mom.  Never being accepted as their "mom" but always seen as the foster mom or adoptive mom.  Never giving up on them because they really "weren't yours anyways".  But every day slowly and gently leading them to know God.  I was imperfect.  I was flawed.  I didn't handle situation well and lost composure.  But God was perfect.  God loved without ceasing.  God never left them.  And God showed up big in those early years and still does today.

As time went on and children were in and out of our home, a few things changed.  We do have children who without a doubt see me as Mom.  The only Mom they have ever known.  But I have some (even adopted ones) that I am no more than the caregiver.  The relationship is strained.  The discussions are tense.  I feel completely inadequate  in the relationship.  Those are the hardest because those are the relationships that if allowed a small voice whispers I failed.  I failed as a mom.  I failed as a Christian.  I failed to show enough love and concern to overcome.

We no longer foster and have adopted 7 so far.  God still shows up.  I never got the perfect house with the white picket fence.  Every stage of life with my kids brings a new set of struggles and pain.  As they begin to better understand adoption they face the reality that someone left them.  As they grow, mental illness that was once under control is now reset and we are back at square one.  The small voice that whispers you are not good enough gets louder when others are harsh to you at school.  The realization you are different hits home in the middle school years.  The feeling that you never can connect with others surfaces when dating and relationships begin.

So Mother's Day for me is different.  I have lots of joy but I also feel pain.  I see my children who cannot bond and I worry about their futures.  I think about the first mom for each of them.  Where is she?  What is she feeling?  Does she know her kids are loved?  Does she care?

Some days I think if I had it to do all over again I would choose a different path, an easier one.  A journey with less pain and sorrow. But then God brings to mind a memory of joy or triumph with my children and reminds me of why I was chosen for my special journey of motherhood as we are Growing Up on Dublin Lane.

Monday Madness

You can guess how today was since this week's blog is late into the night!

1.  Softball Softball Softball

Our season is in full swing and if the rain can hold off we might actually get to play a few games!  This past weekend Torri and Rikki Rae played with their select team.  They battled with 15 other teams and came away in 2nd place.  Super proud of the team and the girls had a blast.

This is our "we stayed at the ballpark add day to get this hardware."

2. Torri has become a very disciplined and consistent pitcher.  She doesn't look like much but don't let that fool you.  She has an insane toe drag with her pitching motion which means we go through softball cleats every couple of months.  Well this tournament she shredded her shoes.  So our only option....switch feet.  Yep that's right she pitched 3 innings (well I might add) with the shoes on the wrong feet to avoid more blisters on her right foot.  Ha!

 3.  We enjoy a little baseball too!  Jayden's team played tonight.  A different experience being on this side of the fence.  Jayden had great plays on 2nd and pitched in the last inning.  We were up by 1, 2 outs, and bases loaded and yes my kid gets called up to pitch...this would be his first game to pitch this season...with no warm-up.  He was able to keep it to a tie game and struck out the last batter.  Stressful for this Momma!

4.  The kids have vivid imaginations and Ava Jo is bursting with creativity.  She created this "fishing pole" for her brother using a clothes hanger, safety pins, shoe laces, and a slice of bread.  We found it handing in her brother's closet ready for their next fishing trip.  Ava Jo later explained to me that you would submerge the pins in the water and when the fish pulled on the line (creating a "bow and arrow effect" as she said) you knew it was "ready".  Ha!

5.  We have a rare treat for John to be off 2 days this week.  So I have my "honey-do" list ready to go!

Just a glimpse of the happenings as we are Growing Up on Dublin Lane.