Goodbye and forever.

 

Last Wednesday the girls had their ‘goodbye visit’ with their mother.  Ever since the hearing we’ve been debating how to go about all of this.  Do we prepare them ahead of time?  Do we wait until after the visit so that we can be the comforters vs. the bearers of bad news?  How do we talk about something so traumatic?

Well, it turned out we didn’t have much say in the matter, because they called us Tuesday night to let us know the visit was on Wednesday.  Well then.  So much for preparation. 

Brian took the girls to the visit (an hour and a half away) so that one of us could be there for them afterward.  Also, I had recently e-mailed their birth mom a bunch of pictures from Disney and never heard back, so I wanted him to ask and make sure I had the right e-mail. 

 

The visit actually went relatively well.  Mom didn’t even discuss it being the final visit, but did give the girls some pictures of the family before leaving.  I have a lot of respect for her ability to not make it an emotional blood bath – because, really?  I can’t even imagine.  The only thing that could have gone better is if Mom would have taken some time to verbally give the girls permission for us to be their family, for them to love us and move on.  But, having been in this field for a while, none of us were really expecting that.

 

When they got home from the visit, we went ahead with bedtime.  Bella was clearly contemplative and a little quiet.  Then she asked it,

“Was that my very last visit with my Mom ever?”

I’ve been thinking about, praying about, preparing for this conversation for so long, and still it was like a punch in the gut.

“Yes sweetheart.  Yes, it was.”

Knowing that if at any point it is appropriate for the girls to have contact with their mom that we would be all for it – it was difficult not to want to comfort her with that.  But, from what we’ve learned (purvis, purvis, purvis) it is better to be straightforward and not give hope for what might not happen, at the risk of implanting a hope in a child that they could hang on to for years without any resolution.

She went on to ask all the questions.  Why?  How long is forever?  What is adoption?  Will I ever see them again?  Are they dead? 

Tootaw doesn’t understand what is happening at all.  Not at all.

Lots and lots of questions.  Lots of tears.  Some obvious relief for having some concrete answers.  Some relief that she does not have to say goodbye to us.  Lots of heartbreak. 

 

Since then we’ve seen a huge resurgence of trauma behaviors.  Trauma tantrums with hitting, kicking, spitting, biting.  The difference between a year and a half ago and now is that she trusts us, so with lots of help from Empowered to Connect, we are able to work through it.  We are able to provide comfort.  We can love her through it and connect through the pain.

But jeez, what I wouldn’t give to not have to go through all this trauma again.  We had worked through so much.  So. Much.  And now here we go again.  But this time around we are investing in forever. 

Forever. 

Thank you Lord.

 

Prayers for the hearts of our sweet girls are coveted.  Healing will come.  It will.

Visit, behaviors, improvement, repeat.

 

This is an all to familiar cycle to anyone who has fostered for long.

 

Bella has started having longer visits with her parents – this weekend she’ll have an overnight visit for two nights and three days. 

 

oh boy.  holy cow.  We are feeling the repercussion of painful scabs being scratched open again and again and again.

 

I think this is one of the difficulties of fostering that may be different in adoption (hopefully we will find out eventually).  In fostering it seems that you are never really working toward healing.  Really, you are working at keeping a wound just raw enough that when it comes time for reunification, the wound can be grafted back into a family unit, that will slowly heal together.

 

Fostering is about dealing with open wounds.

We aren’t working toward closure.

We aren’t working toward healing.

We really aren’t even working toward progress in behaviors.

 

Because every visit, she goes home for a few hours, and then she has to leave again.  Leave her sister.  Leave her mom and dad.  Leave her home.

And the scab is picked off.  And we’re starting all over.

 

The pain in her little heart is something I can’t imagine.  As an adult, as a foster parent, it is emotionally exhausting to experience.  As a four year old in the center of it all?  I can’t fathom it.

She doesn’t know what to do with all that pain.  We try to help her process it, put names to emotions, cry through the confusion.  We try to explain what is happening and why in four year old terms (because caseworkers don’t do that.  we’ve never had a caseworker explain what was happening consistently.).  But there is too much hurt, and it has to come out.

 

It comes out in defiance.  Lots. and lots. and lots. of defiance.

It comes out in anger.

It comes out in tantrums.

It comes out in needing extra affection.

 

And we do our best.  We increase nurture with structure.  We use lots of feeling words.  We connect while correcting.  We avoid un-needed consequences like crazy.  We talk about choices.

Things get a little better.  We see more smiles.  We see better choices.  We see her heart mend, just a little.

 

 

And then there is another visit.

 

And we start all over.

 

And it’s not even about the behaviors.  (although some days, it’s hard for that not to be the focus.)  I just want her little heart to be able to heal.  I just want her to stop hurting all the time.

My broken heart.

 

"...I think Jesus tells us to love our neighbors, not just for our neighbors sakes, but for our own as well, because he knows what happens inside our hearts when we let in those who are vulnerable, needy and even repulsive near us. WE become vulnerable, needy and dare I say it, even repulsive too. Our own motives and shortcomings and entitlement and laziness come to the surface and stare us in the face. And that IS uncomfortable."   -Sarah Dornbos

 

 

This defines so much of what my fostering experience has been.

With every child, God has refined me.  Pruned me.  Poked around in those parts of my heart that I’d just as soon pretend aren’t there.

All of these ugly things start bubbling to the surface.

Trauma tantrums?  Up comes my impatience.

Hours of crying out the hurt?  Out comes my lack of compassion.

Needing to be rightnexttomeeverymomentoftheday?  The hard parts of my heart are exposed, unwilling to love with the intensity of Jesus’ call.

 

In it all I feel him moving.

I am pruning you.  With my help, you will produce more fruit.  Because I love you, I will not leave you in the state you are in.  Trust me.

Some days it is easier for me to love, to serve, to find joy in the brokenness.

But.

Sometimes loving other people’s children is difficult.  Sometimes I struggle with allowing my heart to love them, forcing myself to be what they need, trying to be selfless in the face of pain, struggle, challenge.

I’m being honest.  Painfully, really.  Literally, painful, to my heart that knows the love that has been lavished on me only to struggle to fully love a child.

 

Some will choose to judge in the face of honesty.  Those who have fostered, and those who have not.  To that, I say, I cannot blame you.  My heart is ugly.  My only redemption is Christ.

 

I wish you could meet Bella.  Or maybe you have.  She is beautiful.  Her gentleness and innocence have persevered through so much.  She finds joy after being drug through hell.  She has a loving heart, yet her pain is worn on her sleeve.  She loves pink and purple.  She loves to dress up like a princess.  She loves swinging.  She has her Daddy’s eyelashes.  She HAS eyelashes (!!).  And in His eyes she is beautiful and purposefully created.

 

 

Yet in my heart, sometimes I struggle to let her in, to love her, to be compassionate.

 

I hate it.

And in my brokenness I cry out, “Jesus, prune me! Teach me.  Fix me.”

His love is the only love that will always be enough.  But slowly, he will refine my heart so that my love will look more like his.

 

“This is my command: Love one another.”   -Jesus

Between a Rock and a Ridiculously Hard Place.

 

  We had a little girl placed with us yesterday.  She’s 3, and she’s sweet, and she’s beautful, and she’s very, very sick.

 

  When intake called they told us that she was sick.  They also told us that she would have treatment at the hospital once every ten days.  They also told us that she only had treatment for another 2 months and then she was done.  They also told us she could start preschool in January.

 

  Well.  actually only one of these things they told us is correct, and that one thing is that she is sick. 

 

  We got to the hospital to pick her up and we spoke with the social worker and doctor for a few minutes.  They had already told her that she was going home with us.  We went in and met her and they started training us on how to care for her. 

  It wasn’t until the last few minutes of our meeting that they told us the reality of all this.  Things we hadn’t been told.

 

  So come to find out, she doesn’t just have treatment once every ten days.  She has to go to labs twice per week – which takes a few hours – and she has treatment every ten days – which takes several hours.  This all amounts to two to three days in the hospital every week.  Also, she has treatment for two more years, not months.

minor details.

 

  I’m not under the impression that this is our agency’s fault in any way –  I don’t think the hospital gave them the correct information, or all of the information.

 

  The problem lies in that what we thought we were saying yes to, and what we were really saying yes to are two completely different things.  I can be at the hospital one day every ten days, but with having other kids, I cannot be at the hospital two to three days per week.  I can’t expect Sylvie to sit in a waiting room for hours three days per week, I don’t have anywhere she can stay for that amount of time – and being away from the girls three out of five days won’t work.

 

  We’ve told the agency that this isn’t something we can do long term.  There are a few relatives that we’re hoping pan out in which case she could go there from our house.  Otherwise they will have to find another home for her.

 

  I hate that.  I hate this situation.  If we had only known to begin with, we would have known we weren’t a good match and we would have said no.  Now this poor baby girl who is already dealing with so, so much is going to have to move again.  I hate it.  It’s hard not to feel very frustrated.  I know that no one gave misinformation on purpose – but this is a big deal.  Let’s get it right.

 

  Please, please pray.  Pray for her health, pray for her heart, pray that one of her relatives comes through.

Sudden changes.

Jae left last night.

Sudden, right?  Yeah, I know.

 

This week there have been about 20 different changes in the plan regarding the boys.  I’m pretty sure I’m not even exaggerating.  We were told he was leaving Friday, and then we were told he could stay with us up until the end of our upcoming vacation, then he couldn’t, then he was going to be with us for a couple more months while they got Zee stabilized…you get the picture.

Then Thursday night at 7:30 we got a call letting us know that the powers that be did not approve the plan for him to stay with us for a while, and that they wanted to move him the next day.  Friday morning I got a call saying they’d be here at 4:30 to pick him up.  So I got busy packing.

 

We are missing them.  It’s so quiet.

We gave them our address and phone number so that they can call us if they want to.  We’re going to get their new address and mail them things every so often.  I think that keeping some form of contact after a move generally helps kids out.

 

There is also a certain level of relief.  Relief from the unknown and decisions that are overwhelmingly draped with repercussions.  It’s a lot to carry, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that this morning when I woke up I felt a certain level of release. 

 

But I feel like we did everything that we could for the boys.  In the end it was out of our hands.  We will continue to do everything we can to let them know that we love them and to support them.  Yesterday, in the midst of changes to the case plan that we had no control over, I was talking to our family worker, and she reminded me that this is our job.  We do what we can, we try our very hardest, we give our all, and when the children move on we have to accept it and do the same.  Because, she reminded me, there will be more children who need our help, who are hurting, who will come so that we can help each other through this hard life.

We are leaving for vacation soon – which is really very good timing.  It forces us to take a hiatus from fostering (short, but a break none the less).  We cannot take any children before we leave, so it won’t be until we return that we can start taking phone calls, and we may choose to wait even a bit longer.  It will be time of renewal and rejuvenation that our home is in sore need of.  Thank God for parents who take us on vacation with them (can I get an amen?) (Thanks Mom and Dad!) (I really have the best parents in the universe.)!!!!!!

 

So today we’ve been relaxing.  I’ve done some sewing {=therapeutic outlet.} and some reading.  We’ve hung out and loved on our Sylvie girl.  Brian and I actually had time to talk (gasp!), spend time together (incredulous!), and we did no housework (I guess not so uncommon…).  It is a bitter sweet relief. 

We miss the boys – the worst will be tomorrow when we dismantle their room.  Countless times today I have turned to tell one of them something.  I received paperwork today to register them for school.  And we keep finding socks and legos in every nook and cranny.

But I also recognize this time as a time of rest.  A blessing.  Refreshment like cold water running down a parched throat or a nap in the middle of exhaustion.  The Lord knows what we need.

Why Foster?

Reason Number 389:

Because even after all of this,

it is still worth it.

 

Because even with all of the challenges we will

still do everything in our power to make sure the boys

know that we will always love them.

 

Because even after all of the unknown, and the hurt

it is worth every tear.

 

Because even the hard goodbyes only mean

we’ve loved each other well.

 

Because it is worth it.

And they are worth it.

 

And even when things get really tough, and you can’t really

remember why you do all of this,

God whispers in my heart,

There are more.

And they need you.

And they need to know my love.

And it is worth it.

nausea.

The last couple of days I’ve really been feeling pretty buried by all the hurt.

The hurt of Jae in all of this, the hurt of Zee causing his physical aggression, the hurt of them being temporarily separated, the hurt of not having Zee here, the hurt of the boys’ fear of the future, the hurt of knowing Jae will be leaving, the hurt of the unknown.

The hurt of feeling so helpless.  I just want to make it better.  There is a clawing at my heart that makes me feel physically ill.

I was wracking my brain all day yesterday trying to come up with some service to implement, some intervention that would help Zee’s physical aggression.  Something that would make it possible for him to stay here.  That would ensure that his physical aggression would not get even worse.

And I just keep coming back to the same thing -

It’s just not safe.  It is not safe for him to be here while he is struggling with the physical aggression that has brought us to this hard place.  I don’t feel that it would be safe for me to be home alone with him and Sylvia when he was really angry.  And I think it is going to escalate.

 

They’ve found a home that is only 30 minutes away from their hometown, where their siblings are placed.  I don’t think that they will try to put them all four together for the time being – it’s just asking for disruption.  The boys will go for a pre-placement visit Friday through Saturday, and if it goes well, will probably move next week.

We’ve always said that we wouldn’t ask a child to leave our home unless it wasn’t safe for them to be there.  We know the effects that disruption has on kids – so we decided that we wouldn’t do it unless there were really no choice.  I just never really thought we’d get there  - where there was no choice, where it wasn’t safe.

 

Please pray for the boys.  Pray for their angry hearts.  Pray for their healing.  Pray for their caseworker (whew, that’s almost hard for me to type.  terrible of me.). 

Pray for their parents.  Maybe a miraculous turnaround – cause goodness knows that if it is safe – we pray that they go home.

I don’t even know what to title this post.

Really I’m not even sure what to write.  Where to start.

 

Since my last post, Zee has become increasingly physically aggressive.  Somewhere in the last couple of weeks, this has all become too much for him. 

Night before last he was extremely physically aggressive.  He also seemed to be showing some signs of PTSD – almost like flashbacks.  He was talking about things that have happened in the past, and was looking at us like we were strangers.  We got through that night.

The next morning (yesterday) Brian had to leave early for work.  I had the boys on my own for the morning until their Rocket Camp.  Zee woke up just as aggitated as he fell asleep, and was rearing to go.  Luckily Sylvia was still asleep.  He was becoming increasingly physically agressive as the morning went on and was completely out of control.  Jae, thankfully, was having a good morning.

I ended up having to call Brian to come home from work.  Sylvia was about to wake up, and I knew I couldn’t handle her and Zee the way he was behaving – and that it wasn’t safe.  Brian came home, and Zee continued to escalate.  He was hitting, kicking, biting, and throwing things.  We did our best to calm him down, to talk him through it, but he was only getting worse.

We ended up having to call the police again.  This time the police said they thought it would be best for him to go with them for a while.  They took him down to the detention center. 

Brian and I knew that a decision had to be made.  We had to know when to call it – when it wasn’t safe for him to be with us anymore.  The fact that it only seems to be getting worse, and the fact that I cannot safely be home with him and Sylvia by myself led us to decide that our home was no longer a safe place for him to live.

 

Right now he is in a respite home.  The caseworker is out of town (although she never told us this – and has her cell phone off – and when I called and left two urgent messages at her office, no one cared to tell me she was gone.) and no major decisions will be made until she gets back Monday.

Zee is (obviously) not thinking clearly right now.  But is currently saying that he wants to be moved from our home, and that he does not want to live with Jae.  I know that in time this is not what he will want.  He is so confused.  So lost in all of this.

At this point I am sincerely hoping that they decide to move Jae in with Zee.  Jae has been an emotional wreck ever since Zee left and he bawled himself to sleep last night.

 

 

I can’t really even describe what all of this is like.

My heart hurts for those boys so badly – in such a way that I don’t even know how to explain it.  I hate all of this.  I hate their situation.  I hate that they can’t understand what is happening – even the way they are feeling.  I hate that I don’t think things are going to get better for them any time soon.  I hate that we can’t fix it.  I hate that there is nothing I can do.  I hate that they can’t be here.  I hate that they may not remember that we love them.

I cannot fathom their pain.

I am pleading with God for things to get better for them.  Pleading that their hearts make it through all of this without becoming void of feeling, emotion, love.  Pleading that He would carry them.  Please, Lord.

Not really sure…

 what in the world I was thinking yesterday when I said things were back to normal around here.

 

But they are not.

 

Every minute is a struggle.

 

Really, really hoping the boys don’t make decisions that make it unsafe for them to be here.

The Po Po.

  I guess you could say we had quite the weekend…

We had a visit scheduled for the boys’ siblings to come and spend the night on Saturday night.  They all already knew about it, so we went forward with it even though we have decided that we cannot take them.

Saturday started out at a normal pace.  Jae was having a little bit of trouble, but Zee was helping Brian paint an old dresser and seemed to be doing really well.  Around 10:00 we had the boys go to clean their room – which seems to be equivalent to us asking them to catch fish with their bare hands for dinner – the most impossible task we could assign.  It is all very dramatic.  So at this point they get upset about how we are the most terrible, slave driving people on the planet because I’m making them pick up their dirty underwear.

This escalates a little for Jae.  He ends up shoving Brian, so he has to spend time in the other bedroom to cool down.  He does not cool down, earning him subsequent time in the bedroom.  This continues until I am sure he’s not going to be coming out anytime soon – and at this point Zee has firmly stated that ‘He is not cleaning his room.’  So, I tell the boys that they can choose not to clean their room, but that if I have to clean it for them, they will have to pay me from their allowance for my time.  Zee ended up helping me – Jae coughed up the cash.

Things weren’t getting any better, but we did not feel like the boys were completely out of control – definitely not enough to cancel the visit.  But, if there is one thing our boys are good at, it’s showing us up right when we think things are ok.

Starting around 2:00 their behaviors began to escalate, and continued to do so until dinner time.  (Their brother and sister joined us around 3:00.)  They progressed to throwing their toys at us as hard as they could, hitting and kicking Brian in obvious attempts to hurt him, trying to throw the vacuum cleaner at Brian, trying to push him down the stairs, screaming threats and obscenities at us, and running throughout the house.

I stayed downstairs with their siblings and Sylvia in an effort to keep them out of harms way, although Zee did come down twice and hit his brother with toys.  He also discovered a bottle of yellow craft paint that he attempted to squirt across our dining room, and they scratched the paint off of their bedroom door.

We tried several times to de-escalate them through talking an listening to no avail.  We are legally not able to lock them in any rooms or restrain them unless it is self defense. 

At around 6:00 we called the on-call worker at our agency to ask her what we should do.  They were completely out of control and were being more physically aggressive then they ever have been in the past.  Her suggestions were that we separate them, get them to calm down, and try to de-escalate their behaviors.  If I didn’t have a filter, my response would have been, “No kidding?  Really?  Because I would have never though of those things.  Thanks SO much for your assistance.”  But I didn’t.  Eventually she suggested that we call the police and have them come out to the house to show the boys how serious their behavior was.

 

So that’s what we did.  I called the police and they came out.  Jae was even disrespectful to the police officer until he required him to respect him.  They discussed how serious their behavior was, let them know that next time this happens that the boys will be escorted to the juvenile detention center, and made them pick up all of the toys they had thrown all over the house.

After the police left, the boys attitudes returned to exactly how they had been prior to the officers coming out, but they were no longer physically aggressive.  They threatened several times to run away, so Brian went up to their room and sat down with them to make a plan of how much it would cost and how they would earn their money.  (In an effort to show them how unrealistic it is for them to run away.)

 

After their siblings left on Sunday, the boys’ behavior began to de-escalate and by dinner time they were back to their normal selves.  We can only figure that their behavior was triggered by the visit.  Generally when the boys lose control it is for a shorter period of time (an hour or so) and it ends with them breaking down in tears and being able to discuss, at some level, what it is that is fueling the anger.  That didn’t happen this time, which makes me nervous that it was never resolved in their hearts and that there may be more to come.

I’ve been e-mailing back and forth with caseworkers trying to deal with all this – putting in my two cents and seeing how far it goes.  We’ll see where we go from here…

Hard, hard decisions.

So tired of the serious posts.  But that’s been life lately.  Back to our normal program soon.    {Pause}    Did I just say normal, oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to confuse anyone by making them think that anything is ever normal around here.  You know, just less “writing about things that make you say, ‘foster care? me? Why in the world would I do that?’”

 

Brian and I have made a decision regarding the kids.

We’ve decided that we should not take the boys’ siblings.  I can not tell you how much thought and prayer went into this decision.  And we really feel at peace with it, now that we’ve decided.

Both of us wanted to take them so badly.  It was our natural inclination to immediately say, “Of course!  Why not?  We’d LOVE to.”  We tried to consider all the variables – and when we were done, we considered all of them again.  Really it just came down to one simple fact:

We weren’t sure that with four children who were very high need, and one under the age of 1 year, that we could really, fully provide everything that all five of them needs.  Primarily in the stage of life that we are currently in.

 

There were so many ‘if’s’.  If we lived near our family who would provide support.  If we knew how the kids do when they live together.  If we thought it was shorter term.  If we knew the boys’ behaviors would ever really improve.  If, if, if.

We struggled with whether or not these questions were just our lack of trust that God would provide, and we came to a couple of conclusions:

He has not given us a peace about adopting these children, even though we have literally begged for it.  We do know that he has called us to foster – which we would have to stop doing if we were to adopt right now – and we don’t feel like fostering is something He is asking us to stop doing.  He has given us hearts for adoption, and I am confident that at some point we will do just that, but not now.  Saying yes to taking the kids would have been the easier decision for us (I know, that sounds insane.  I never claimed we were sane.).  This is such a hard decision, but because it was so hard and we still feel that it is necessary, and we feel peace about it, tells me that it is the right decision regardless.

 

I’m not sure that any of that made sense.  If not, I’ll work on my next post being coherent.

 

We made a couple of suggestions to the caseworker.  *(Joke, right?  Cause who ever listens to the foster parents?  ….I digress.)*  We said, “What’s the huge rush?  Why don’t you give it six months to see if you just happen to find a family looking to adopt four kids?  If not, then move them somewhere else together, but if so, then it is only one more move for the kids instead of two.”

The caseworker responded, “thank you for your thoughtful consideration and your honesty, but we would really like to move the kids as soon as possible.”  I can see where she’s coming from.  But kind of not.

So the boys will be moving sooner than later.  And it makes me want to vomit.

If you are in the habit of praying for our boys, please pray for their hearts.  Pray for their future.  Pray for their caseworker.  Pray for the family they will go to.

 

*I should say, that before you think I’m all anti-caseworker, that I was a caseworker prior to fostering.  Some of them are great, and try really hard.  I should also say, that while we’ve had some bad experiences with our kids’ caseworkers – OUR caseworker (the one that works with us, the foster families) is fabulous.  She is supportive and helpful and we love her.  So don’t go getting scared off from fostering because of my caseworker talk.*

Where We’re At.

We are here:

• Still praying over and discussing the possibility of the boys’ siblings moving in.  Trying to consider all of the factors, which would be a whole different post.
• If we decide that we do not feel we can take their siblings, the caseworker wants to look for another home, closer to where the boys are from, that can take all four kids.
• If we cannot take their siblings, they want to move the boys before the beginning of the school year.
• If we do take their siblings, we are, in essence, adopting them. (Hence this being such a huge decision.)  Unless by some chance they quickly find an adoptive home for an older sibling set of four (unlikely) then they would be with us for a long time.  If they are with us for a long time – adoption just makes sense.
• We feel like we could do it.  We just aren’t sure it is best for all of the kids.
• Maybe I will try to write a post explaining our thinking and reasoning thus far.  But it would take forever, and I’m not sure it would make any sense to anyone but me, so we’ll see.

 

All of this brings me to tears. 

Contrary to what one may think, deciding that we will take their siblings would be the easier choice for us to make.  We don’t want the boys to have to move, we want them all to be together, we want to be able to serve them in every way possible.  It would be much, much harder for us to decide that we cannot do it – but we also want to be responsible in this decision – and in the end it may not be best.

 

Prayers for discernment and for the kids’ hearts is so appreciated.  I wish all this were easier.

Uphill from here.

I got a call from the caseworker yesterday letting us know that they were back from court.  The judge ruled that Mom’s home is not appropriate for the kids.  Dad’s homestudy wasn’t approved either.  The case goal will be changed to adoption as soon as the judge has the official paperwork on the failed homestudy for dad – probably early next week.

 

I guess in the grand scheme of things this is a good thing – the boys will be safe and taken care of.  It’s just difficult sometimes to see all of that through their broken hearts.  With all of our previous placements, I’ve always felt relief at the thought of the kids not returning home to the abuse or neglect, or whatever plagued the family.  I’ll get there with the boys too, we just have a lot of hurt to work through first.  It will be nice to be at a point where they are through all of the transitions and we can just start focusing on the healing.

 

One of the questions that I received recently asked if we are open to adoption with Jae and Zee.  There are a lot of unknowns right now that will have to be considered before we can make a decision like that….

• The boys have two other siblings – a girl who is just slightly older than Jae, and a boy who is 5.  We’ve not even met their siblings yet, and they will keep the four of them together for adoption.  (Thank goodness!)
• The boys’ siblings are coming here to visit the weekend of the 10th for an overnight stay.  At that point we’ll be able to see the kids interacting together, family dynamics, etc.  We’ll also be able to get a better feel for behaviors exhibited by the other two.  We’ll have a few overnight visits before we even consider having the other two kids move in with us.
• If they move in, we have to assess how things are going/where we see things going down the road.  Brian and I would still like to have more children (as in birth more children) and we have to be sure we still feel like that would still be a possibility.
• Also, we are still assessing any safety concerns with the boys.  Since camp, there haven’t been any more threats toward Sylvia – only toward Brian.  So far, so good.

 

I could go on.  As you could imagine, it will be a very big, very life changing, very prayed over decision.  …So much to think about.  Right now I’m having trouble thinking past 4:00 today when the boys will return home with their hearts crushed, full of hurt and anger.

A Shelter to Weather the Storm.

Last night was a very rough night. (How many blog posts could I start with that sentence? Ha!)  But really, probably one of the top five worst nights since the boys came to us – almost three months ago – how is that possible?  We were having a wonderful evening, and had just gotten home from practicing their baseball skills at the park.  It was like a buzzer sounded in our house signaling the boys to completely lose it.

One minute we were having lots of fun, and the next minute there was yelling, there was name calling, there were toys being thrown from one end of the house to the other, there were doors slamming, there was screaming, and there was  more disrespect than any one person should endure in one evening.

And really, I would do it all over again.  Because afterward,

Jae talked to me.  Like really talked.

 

He told me how he’s feeling really stressed.  He told me that he just gets mad so quickly, and he doesn’t know how to change it.  He told me the things he’s worried about.  He told me that he’s upset because his birthday next week will be the first one without his mom.  He expressed to me that he doesn’t think that it is ok for him to cry.  He told me how much he misses his mom – how he misses watching t.v. with her, and helping her with the dishes.  He told me how much he misses his other two siblings.  He said sometimes it just feels like he explodes.  He told me the things that he’s sad about should their case go to adoption.  He told me how he’s been praying that he will go home.  He cried.

I listened.  I tried to empathize.  I cried.  I prayed.  I comforted.

It felt so good to actually get to talk to Jae.  Not to his anger, or to the wall he has put up between himself and the world, but actually to him.  We talked about how it feels better to get to talk to someone about all the feelings instead of keeping them inside.

I know that this is not the end of his anger – but it is a beginning.  I can’t help but feel like this is progress, that maybe some very small part of him is beginning to trust me.  There will be lots more hard days, but I pray that with every hard day there is a rainbow like last night – a promise of redemption.

 

Everything in me knows that last night was a result of prayers for his little heart.  Thank you so much for the e-mails letting me know that so many of you are praying for them.  It is making a difference.

 

Today there is a court hearing for the case.  It is likely that today, this afternoon, Mom will be ruled inappropriate for placement, their goal will be changed to adoption, a very strong anchor will be cut from these boys’ lives.  My heart is so broken today – I hurt for these boys deep in my heart. Please pray for them.

Today is likely the worst day of their lives.

Pray for their hearts.  Pray for Brian and I to have wisdom, empathy, and love strong enough to help them through.  I know their hearts will break, but please pray that they are mendable.  Pray that they’ll know our love, that they’ll know God’s love, and that it can be a shelter and a comfort to them.

 

It don't have a job
Don't pay your bills
Won't buy you a home
In Beverly Hills
Won't fix your life
In five easy steps
Ain't the law of the land
Or the government
But it's all you need..

Love, will, hold us together
Make us a shelter
to weather the storm
And I'll, be, my brothers keeper
So the whole world will know
That we're not alone
It's waiting for you
Knockin' at your door.
In the moment of truth
When your heart hits the floor.
When you're on your knees then...

Love, will, hold us together
Make us a shelter
to weather the storm
And I'll, be, my brothers keeper
So the whole world will know
That we're not alone.

reasons, not excuses

We went to our monthly foster parent support meeting early this week.  They are put on by our agency, and it’s a great way to meet other foster parents.  Since it is Foster Care Awareness Month, they put on a little open house dinner-ish thing for the foster parents.  It was very nice of them.  I really enjoyed it.

A couple of our closer foster parent friends were there – (they are the ones that had X-man’s brothers, and they are who he moved in with when he left our house.).  They had a couple of little boys with them who had been placed with them the night before.  Intake had actually called us with these boys the night before, and we had to say no because we currently only have one twin bed open.  (Anyone know where I can get some bunk beds real cheap?)  We sat down for dinner with them and Zee piped up, “Those are my cousins!”  I really was thinking he probably had them confused, but then one of the other boys said, “Hey look!  That’s Zee!” 

What are the chances?  We are two hours away from where they are from, and their cousins just happen to be placed with a couple in our agency who we know well?  CRAZY! Their cousins also have two siblings in care (about ten minutes from where we live).  So if Jae and Zee’s brother and sister end up moving in with us, there will be 8 kids from the same family in foster care in the same town.

 

If that’s not an example of the cycle of poverty doin’ it’s thing, I don’t know what is.  (By the way this is a great book about the cycle of poverty, and is very helpful in understanding where a lot of these kids come from.)

 

Imagine that you grow up in a small town, or a big city for that matter, and your family is poor.  Not by any choice of your own – maybe both your parents work as hard as they can, but can’t make ends meat, maybe your dad is into drugs, maybe your mom is really depressed, maybe they are both gone all the time, and you’re really not sure what is going on.

And then there’s the abuse.  Everybody is stressed out and no one knows what to do.  Maybe sometimes your mom hits you, maybe sometimes your dad touches you, maybe there is never anyone there to get you ready for school, maybe all three.  There’s no food in the house, and you’ve pretty much had to figure out how this world works all on your own.

You’ve never left the town you were born in.  You live in a poor neighborhood, and most of the people around you are in about the same situation.  You don’t really have any role models, no one to look up to that seems to have it together.  Since you’re in a poor neighborhood the schools are no good – most of your classes don’t even have textbooks, and most of your teachers don’t have college degrees.

So what is it that tells you life should be different than this?  Who is it that helps you to change?  What will motivate you to live a different life?  How do you know that any of this is wrong?

 

These aren’t excuses.  But they are reasons.  This is the cycle of poverty.

It doesn’t keep me from ever getting angry at bio parents whose children are hurting on account of their decisions.  It doesn’t keep me from venting, or wanting to point fingers.  But it does help to realize that when it comes to their kids, 99% of people do the best they can with what they know.  I don’t want to act like I am responsible for being where I am.  I don’t want to feel entitled enough to act like that person I described couldn’t have easily been me.  I feel so blessed that it isn’t. 

I don’t know where Jae and Zee’s mom came from.  I don’t know what she’s been through.  I don’t know if she had anyone growing up to tell her that there was more to life than what she was experiencing. 

The truth is, I was in the middle of a post venting about their mom’s lack of effort.  And sometimes, I really feel like I need to just because it is so difficult dealing with the aftermath and these boys’ broken hearts.  Instead I should pray for her though.  And love her.  I’m challenging myself, while being realistic, not to judge their mom and to do my best to support her. 

Beauty out of Ashes.

I just found this new blog, Profoundly Seth.  I love reading her thoughts, and her kids are stinkin’ cute!  The writer’s name is Ellyn, and she recently posted on God using challenges to refine us.  She is facing challenges that I cannot imagine.  It just got me thinking.

 

Goodness knows that God is using these boys in my life.  Through them he is teaching me the art of patience faster than I ever really wanted to.  I’ve always prayed for God to teach me patience – momentarily forgetting the mode in which he does so – and really, although I’m sure that I will appreciate it at some point, I think in retrospect I would have asked to learn a different fruit of the spirit.

However, you’d be shocked at how quickly I can de-escalate my fuming, anger stricken, if-you-roll-your-eyes-at-me-one-more-time-I’ll-tape-your-eyelids-shut self these days.  These boys are doing wonders for my self talk.  ha!

The point being, he is absolutely refining me.  He is using these boys to help me know Him better, be who He created me to be, and realize that if I don’t want my buttons to be pushed, I should just lose the buttons {go touch-screen if you will}. 

In fact, maybe He even chuckled a little when he heard Jae utter that terrible word that starts with a ‘B’ in my direction. (That one that makes my blood turn to fire….yeah, that one.)  He says, “Oh Maggie, loosen up.  Do you know how many times you’ve said things that I could get bent out of shape over, and look here – I still love you.”

 

This quote came up on another blog I was reading today:

If Jesus gives us a task or assigns us to a difficult season, every ounce of our experience is meant for our instruction and completion if only we’ll let Him finish the work. I fear, however, that we are so attention-deficit that we settle for bearable when beauty is just around the corner.

              Beth Moore

 

So we’re stickin’ this one out guys.  Let’s see what God has in store.

 

In her blog post, Ellyn also talked about how she doesn’t think everything happens for a reason, but that God can bring amazing things from the ashes.  (Not sure I agree that everything doesn’t happen for a reason.  God allows things to happen, and uses them for His glory.  But he already knew what would happen ahead of time – so no sure where that leaves us.  My mind just exploded.)

Anyway, that led me to think about the situation that the boys are in the middle of.  Their small hearts are so full of ashes left over from the fire that ripped through their world.  They don’t even know what to do with all of their hurt.

But God is bringing beauty out of those ashes. 

I see it in small things.  Like when Zee asks me if God is listening to his prayers.  Or when Jae finally breaks down and cries with me.  Or when we have short moments when I can tell that the boys trust us, and know we love them.  Beauty.  Straight from ashes. 

God is incredible.

Is that a light at the end of the tunnel? Oh, no, that’s the end of my rope I’m seeing.

Ok, so, the boys behavior continues to snowball.

In the last 24 hours I have heard:

• I don’t have to!  It’s my choice and I can do what I want!
• You’re such a liar Maggie!  You’re such a liar!
• B*$#&.  (Yes, that’s the B word.  Don’t appreciate that at all.)
• Shoes bouncing off walls and our bunk bed breaking.
• I hate living here!
• I hate you!
• Slamming doors.  over. and over. and over.
• Whatever Maggie, I’m not even listening to you!  (really?  I couldn’t tell.)

I won’t go on – you get my drift.  Once about 5:00 hits our house is filled with the lovely sounds of defiance.  Just. straight. defiance.

They are angry about not being with their mom.  They are sad.  They have never had any supervision or authority figure at home.  I’m fairly sure that they have picked up on the fact that mom does not seem to be making progress.

This all comes together to make two very angry, very confused, very defiant little boys.

 

We have behavior charts for them – clearly listing consequences for specific behaviors, with positive reinforcement for progress and good days.  We have tried to be consistent with discipline.  As of today they will no longer receive allowance just because.  They will get stickers for good behavior, and each sticker will be redeemable for .25.  We do not raise our voices, we never so much as touch their shoulder during discipline. 

We are Love and Logic – ing our hearts out.

We are Shepherding our Children’s Hearts.

We are Connected Parenting.

But I can only be called a ‘B’ so many times before my eyes pop out of my head and roll around on the floor.  Just lookin’ for a little respect.  (Cue Aretha Franklin – I’m singing along.) It is true they have only been here for a month, but none of this seems effective.

We are running out of tools.

Suggestions are welcome.  Actually I may kiss you if you leave a good idea.

 

Foster parents give me your wisdom!!!!

 

Update: Just got a call and mom won’t be at the visit tonight.  This should make for a fun weekend.

Ending on a Positive Note.

So all the posts this week have kinda been downers.  I promise to end this one on a positive note.  Maybe a picture of a cute kitten or something else smile inducing.

The truth is, this has been a rough week.  And I’m not here to make foster parenting look easy – I’m here to show that it’s hard and brings challenges, but that it is doable and completely worth it.  No one signs up to be a foster parent thinking it’s all going to be roses and I love you’s (although I’ve received both during our time as foster parents, so all hope is not lost!).  Someone I was talking to, or possibly reading the blog of {let’s hear it for modern communication} was telling me their thoughts on the difficulty of fostering.  I think it was my friend Katherine. 

It is hard.  And there are struggles.  And there are tears.

But doesn’t every child deserve to be loved enough and cared for enough that someone finds them worth tears?

 

And that’s also the example Christ gave us.  He loved us even though it hurt.  He found us worth tears, agony even.  He took us as His own when it wasn’t required of Him because he loves us.  And he is going to stick out the good times and the rough times with us until we find ourselves home.

 

So.  Given the opportunity to love these kids through the hurt, I will (try, and surely fail sometimes) to count it all joy, count it all joy, count it all joy.  (Any Adventure in Odyssey fans out there?)

I have been leaning so heavily on these verses this week:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be made mature and complete, not lacking anything.  If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.

                           James 1:2-5

and of course this one:

Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.

                          James 1:19-20

 

And, on a positive note, I am SO thankful that:

• The boys had a really great morning this morning.  No yelling, no smarting off, no throwing fits, no complete breakdowns in communication.
• Brian and I had time yesterday to sit down and create a behavior chart for each of the boys, and I am so looking forward to see it’s fruit.
• Sylvia is such a happy baby.  She brings me joy every time I look at her, hear her sweet voice, or have to comfort her.  Thank you Lord for my sweet baby girl.
• The boys (finally!) have a visit with their mom tonight.  Here’s to hoping it goes well.  Here’s to naively hoping it might improve their behavior instead of degrade it. {I can hope, can’t I?}
• And, drum roll please,      the caseworker finally called me!!!  For the first time in the three weeks the boys have been with us, I was able to ask questions, and get answers.  Amen! 

Nothing much more smiling inducing than that!

(I mean, all biases aside.  But not really.)

Please Pray.

Please pray for X-man.  Please. Please. Pray.

His current foster mom got a phone call today telling her to have all of their stuff ready, he and his brothers are being picked up this afternoon and going home permanently.

 

I can’t even explain how I’m feeling.

He came to us at 15 months weighing 12 pounds.  She almost killed him.  His brothers, at 4 and 5 were not even verbal.  No colors.  No numbers.  No alphabet. 

 

She almost killed him.

 

Not to mention they are going from one hour supervised visits once a week to going home?!?!?!?  This is asinine.  Not only is it insane, but it’s not even fair to his mom – they are setting her up for failure.  Going from never taking care of any children, to taking care of three high needs kids by herself? 

GIVE ME A BREAK.  CAN THE SYSTEM REALLY BE THIS SCREWED UP?

 

All I can figure is that the caseworker must have royally screwed up in court representing the evidence.  Because there is no excuse for this.

She almost killed him.

 

It should have been an open and shut case.  It was BAD.  Really, really BAD.

 

I don’t even know what to say.  And should probably stop anyway before I regret my ranting.  Please pray for them.  Please.  All I can see in my mind is his thin, sick little body the night they dropped him off.  He didn’t even know how to cry.

 

Please pray.  It’s my sweet boy.  I know that God knows this situation through and through, and he loves that boy more than I ever could.  But it is so hard to trust.

Fix You.

Last night was rough.  The boys are missing their mother.  They don’t know how to deal with it.

They were having a lot of trouble listening and being civil with each other (i.e. not biting each other.).  Both had been in and out of ‘cool down time’.  As we were sitting down for dinner Jae was cooling off in his room for spewing his 587th smart aleck remark of the evening at Brian and I.  Things all came to a head when Zee accidentally poured half a bottle of BBQ sauce on his burger.  He just lost it.  BBQ sauce was obviously not the culprit of this emotional outcry.

We talked about him missing his mom.  I talked to him about what his favorite things are about her, what they did for fun, what his favorite memory is.  I’ve found talking through these things – being able to share – generally has helped the kids we’ve had cope with their heartache.  We talked about when they played volleyball and how he liked it when his mom let him help clean the house.  (I’d be thrilled to let him work through that with my vacuum cleaner.)  We talked about how they went camping, and how he just misses being with her.

I went up to their room and talked to Jae about his attitude.  I asked him if he thought he might be having a rough day because he is missing his mom.  He said no – he seems to have more of a wall up, he doesn’t want to discuss his mom, missing her, or even Zee missing her.

 

I left to go to book club. (Praise God!  I needed some time out.)  But these outbursts continued for Brian for the rest of the evening right into bedtime.

I got in the car and immediately Coldplay came through the speakers:

 

 

It’s just so hard.  I want to fix it.  I want to mend their broken hearts.  I want to have the answers.  I want to make it better.

I want my love to be enough.  I want my love to fix it.

But it won’t.

It can’t.

It never will be enough.

 

And that makes it so hard.

I just feel so much like I am at the very frontlines of what they are going through with my hands tied.  I can’t make it better.  As foster parents you get all of the hurt, right there, in your face.  And all you can do is stick it out with these kids and hope they learn something of love while they are with you.

So I guess that’s what we’ll do.  I guess that’s my answer.  We’ll stick it out with these boys through whatever this throws at us.  We’ll love them, and tell them about it everyday.  We’ll teach them about God’s love and how they are so precious to His heart.  And we’ll pray.