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.