This song just seems so appropriate in so many ways to be following the Always. post. Funny how no matter how many times you hit a valley He’s always there to make the best out of the surrender.
Music Monday: A Worthy Cause
Many years ago this artist popped into my world. My sister brought her in from college and she has become the “above the rest” artist since. It’s been a joy to watch the Lord grow her in her faith and breath His heart for the lost and dying world into her music.
We got a chance to meet her in person at the beginning of our orphan care journey when we first stepped up to the plate of “whatever you’d have for our family in orphan care, you can count on us.” We had been to many concerts, small and big. But what I love the most is so far beyond her…. it’s Jesus coming through her. She just opens herself up.
It’s a cleaning day today so naturally I have a soundtrack to keep me moving. There’s a lot to be done and I work better, faster and harder when my heart is focused on Whom I am truly serving by serving my family.
“And I love because You loved me when I had nothing…”
I can’t shake that truth from my mind this morning …. and I hope I never do.
By His Hand
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yd9VEgsM2G4]
Foster care is hard. Caring for five children is hard. Caring for two babies six weeks apart in age is hard.
Those three sentences are the understatements of the year.
I would be lying to pretend that this was all easy. Mothering these five came so unnaturally and yet naturally to me.
I was always the one to say “I never want to have twins”.
I can still say that.
I don’t have twins.
I have “harder than twins” because my two are on two different need levels, two different sleep levels, two different skill levels and two different “how I understand love” levels while being so close that they are SUPER dependent.
It is hard. Very hard.
And I am thankful that even in the ugliness of the stripping of myself down to my raw haven’t-showered-for-days self, down to the very depths of my sanity shakings… Grace always finds me there.
I cannot do this.
The schedule is exhausting. The workload is intense. The constant lists, the constant balancing, the constant pouring out of everything that I have and everything that I am…
And yet I am blessed to find a groove. To turn and dry my wrinkled dishwater hands and find them… all five of them… smiling and delighting with large legos spread about. Little Man freshly wrapped in a blanket thanks to my toddler, Lil Red knocking down towers that Big Guy and my Commentator delightedly race to build so she can do likewise. And my dear Lil Blondie mothering Little Man and scooting nearby blocks closer to him so he can mouth them.
I don’t deserve this kind of blessing.
I don’t deserve their little hands in mine.
That’s grace for ya.
By the hand of God, our little mashed family of seven somehow works … even in the chaos.
– Thank you, Jesus.
Open Letter
Dearest Mom,
I know you’ve made some bad choices. I know you’ve made some bad priorities. Thank you for letting us in as you try to figure this all out. And I’m sorry that it must feel alone. Yes, the consequences are real, but you’re still a hurting person… you didn’t create all this chaos.
It’d be so easy to stereotype you. But you are far more than a stereotype.
I can’t possibly explain to you how I changed today. It hurt me to watch you crying. And no one from the county would offer you a tissue from the box on the table. I’m glad Matt reached over to get the box.
Forgiveness has to come, Mom. Hurts hurt deep, but there IS hope.
You have hard decisions. You have many pieces to get together. Hard pieces. Complicated peices. Pieces that require you to overcome fears and reset priorities. There are serious hurts. And I can tell how it’s worn on you.
Thank you for wanting your boys back. I saw it in your eyes far before you ever voiced it today. And I saw it in their eyes that you love them.
Thank you for choosing to let us in. It must feel so cold. And so ripped open. And so vulnerable.
Things are spinning, Mom. You’re stuck and in the driver seat all at once. And it’s easy to point fingers and feel like everyone is giving you the blame.
Yes, there are responsibilities. Chances missed.
But you are a person. And we all make mistakes. And thanks to Jesus we are all given a second chance.
My heart breaks for you, Mom. I was just asking my Matthew the other day on the ride home… your sweet boys in the back seats. Your oldest playing with our girls. I just listened to them. Giggling over a bad “do you know what” joke.
“What would you do if you only had two hours with our girls each week?”
Matt fired off adventures in piggy-back rides, tickle wars, horsey rides, Bible stories and reading fairytales until he was blue in the face.
I thought about my baby in the back seat. The one with the sweeping red hair and those big beautiful eyes.
“I would nurse that baby the whole time. Read to my precious girls and snuggle. No, I’d nurse that baby for an hour and 55 minutes, pack up everyone and run for the border.”
Mom, I can’t even imagine. I would literally come undone.
You don’t have to make perfect choices to love your kids. Sometimes we do things without thinking. Sometimes we are unaware of the consequences. Sometimes we feel “above” the consequences. Sometimes we just make dumb moves. Sometimes we find ourselves in situations we never thought possible. Sure there are things we can do to avoid those kinds of situations, but sometimes life seems to spin out of control. And one bad choice seems to multiply out into utter chaos.
I know you love them. I can’t even imagine how you go on in the quiet house.
It hurts. I can see it on your face. Your body language. Though you hold a smile of sincere joy when they see you. Two hours go by too fast.
He told me he doesn’t like to meet in room four at the visitation center. He informed me room four has a clock. And that way you know what time it is and when the visit has to end.
I love how he wants to defy time with you.
You are still his hero.
Thank you for trying hard. Thank you for rising above the stereotype laid at the doorway of Children’s Services. Thank you for trying. Thank you. Keep trying. Keep changing.
Please don’t give up.
Please.
We are praying for you, Mom. We are praying for healing. Soul healing. And wisdom.
We are praying hard for you, Mom.
Remember those dear little faces. Those precious hands in yours. Those beautiful eyes.
Please don’t give up.
Even when it hurts to change.
You boys are amazing.
And they are so worth it.
Sincerely,
Mommy of three.
Wordless Wednesday: Happening
I love it when I happen apon these moments:
Rising
So I wanted to take a moment to share how we are doing and how we have come to where we are today.
It’s a little hard to believe that 11 weeks ago (12 tomorrow) we first met “our” boys. It was just 3 days after my birthday. And while I had this feeling it could be “just around the corner” I had no idea how close the corner really was.
Our honeymoon was no honeymoon. Night 1 Little Man was up every 20 minutes. Every 20 MINUTES people and Matt and I got the opportunity to put our teamwork to the greatest victory we have had to date. It was rough. But we kept a lighthearted “don’t nurse the wrong baby” vibe as our new foster love began his round-robin of wake-up calls, echoed by our Hannah.
Day 2 was a blur of sleep deprivation followed by the termed “Jesus wrap” swaddler that took a “every 20 minute” cryer into the land of 8 hour sleeps. Suddenly the clouds broke on Day 3 and 5 felt manageable. We were still in the land of excitement decibel monitoring, “welcome to the new rules” management, and “that’s my Mommy” sharing training. Night 3 proved a wonderful 7 hour swaddling, while Big Guy continued to cry himself to sleep. We were still new. And confusing. And fun and exciting, but still “not Mom”.
Day 4 added some new groundwork on “this is how we do it here” training and then came the little cough. It was 8pm. Most were settled or close to settled in bed when the “little cough” began. The little cough returned our sleeping Little Man to 20 minute sound-offs. And by 4am, the little cough had turned to full-blown wheezing. We knew it was beyond us right then and there, but we didn’t know how bad it truly was. Looking back now I’m glad we didn’t know. I’m glad we didn’t know what we signed ourselves up for. Cause it was hard. Very hard.
A routine Dr. appointment turned into a trip “straight to the ER”. 70% oxygen level in the blood plus the wheezing and the mucus faucet meant my girls were having an extended play visit and Matt was meeting me downtown.
No one plans to move into the hospital for 2 days when they leave the house to go to work. But the unknowns of Little Man’s response to illness and his weakened immunity sent us through a whirlwind of crisis management. Little Man rode the rollercoaster of waiting out the illness while Matt caught the flu from the hospital and I tried to figure out balancing four kids who wanted their father ad brother back. The “i don’t know” hurt the most when asked constantly when Little Man and Daddy would return. We felt stuck. And out of control. Family swooped in to help ease the blow, allowing Matt a moment to get away to eat “non hospital” food and see his teary-eyed girls. But he was sick. And we couldn’t afford to be sick too. So there was still some hard distance.
After 2.5 days Little Man was released to go home. But it took the good part of 30 days to overcome his illness with choppy sleep and newborn-like discomforts. We were still studying him. And he does sick very ugly. He didn’t know us. And we didn’t know him. So comfort was hard to come by.
In the mean time, Hannah was being slowly untrained to sleep through the night and was learning separation anxiety early. My big girls took on the stress in different ways. Sometimes they just wanted to play by themselves and sometimes they would cry a little longer or be more stubborn in their defiance. They were testing that we were still as in love with them as we were before the boys. And happily, we passed the test. =)
Big Guy hit it off well with me. Playing built trust quickly. And stability breathed comfort into him. And honestly, it was Christ and Christ alone that covered the burns of the past when we could only assure him of his safety and rub his hair through the tears. Slowly the bedroom door was able to be closed more and more. He trusted we were still going to be there. And he was safe. Today it’s only open a crack.
Little Man healed from his 30 day bug and returned to sleeping well at night for 4 days. Then he got bronchitis. And we were back to square one. Only this time we got a suction machine from urgent care. Yay for tools! And we sucked that boy into a greater ability to sleep and eat to overcome his illness. After 2 weeks the oogies had cleared enough that he sounded “normal.” He stayed normal until the weather change and now sounds terrible again. But we’re used to how he does sickness now. And we’re used to identifying what we can and cannot suck out of him. Congestion is the poor boys default. And it’s not always accompanied by illness.
So here we find ourselves. embracing the new normal. Everyone going to bed in their own beds. Everyone comfortable enough with each other to sleep to their full potentials. Little Man is Matt’s baby at night. And I’m in charge of our Little Redhead. Then we flip coins for the older girls on growing pain and “have to go potty” random nights depending on how our assigned babies are sleeping.
Big Guy is no longer staying awake until 11pm in is bed, he has now become accustomed to a more typical 5 year old bedtime. He has begun memorizing Scripture with the family at bedtime and is delighting in his Sunday School class. He’s stopped being completely shy amidst the “let’s talk to the assistant pastor’s kids” addresses. And he is one seriously skilled madman on his “new to us” bike. His eyes hold trust. And he is expressing his deep hurts and his deep loves. And he’s stopped crying when it’s time to come back with us after his visits with his Mom. Matt’s “Daddy” many times and I’m “Mommy” “Mom” or “Monica” depending on his mood. We’ve never introduced ourselves as anything other than Matt and Monica. We let him decide who we are to him. =)
Little Man is showing increased muscle toning and accepting more and more distraction from toys and dustings of self-soothing. He is becoming more of a smiler and more predictable in his wants/needs. He was a harder cookie for me to love at first. (Just being honest). I am one the can handle sleep interruptions (within reason), but when you add that to a constant crying unless a bottle was held in the child’s mouth for the first weeks… it was quite hard in my balancing of 5. But we’re building a better relationship now and time to grow, mature and change has really helped mesh us both better.
And my girls… well with the grace of God we’ve been able to still preserve their innocence in all this. While it’s a challenge to stifle “too informed” announcements at the dinner table without peeking our Commentator’s interest, Big Guy is quite receptive to “yeah, let’s not talk about that” cues while still trusting that when he needs to talk to us about things we are more than willing to walk the harder roads with him. I am thankful for God’s grace in Big Guy’s quick-learning in this area. The Lord is sheltering my babies while opening their eyes to a Jesus love alive in compassion.
We still have our hiccups. And our silly tufts. And our control-issues. Oh and then there’s the frequented time-out corner…
But we’re meshing still. And we’re talking about sharing life together. And planning for “in the summer” without tears forming in Big Guys eyes at that reality. We’re still praying for Mom. She needs Jesus. And she needs healing. But she’s got the love of her boys right. And for that we are thankful.
You know, it’s funny in all this… the very fear of foster care that I had to begin. You know that one everyone so happily brings up in every conversation when they realize the boys aren’t ours… “Oh, how are you going to give them back? I could never do that.”
I don’t know. I really don’t. But it doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t keep me up at night. I can’t change it. And it’s what God has given us. And if after I love these boys unconditionally for months or years they go back to Mom, then I’ve done what God has called me to do. And we’ll cry and we’ll carry on as a family. And if after I love these boys unconditionally for months or years and I become their legal Mommy, then I’ve done what God has called me to do. And we’ll cry and we’ll carry on as a family.
It is hard work.
But it is the right work.
And I trust my Maker.
He designed us for this.
So cheers to the challenge.
– To God be the glory.