Mommy Guilt - my personal prison.

So I haven’t forgotten my 30 day writing challenge of “30 things I didn’t expect when becoming a parent”. In fact, this week I have been dealing head on with the absolute worst item on that very list. It’s such a struggle for me that rather than elaborate on all of the other silly things that I didn’t expect as a parent, I am going to simply forget my challenge and write one emotional post about this topic alone. Mommy Guilt.  This is my prison. I live under its rule most every day. I worry, stress, and fear over my potential to fail my kids as a mother. I feel like everything I do is never enough, I take all the blame for anything wrong in their lives and never embrace the good in them as a reflection of my efforts. My greatest fear, the one thing that cripples me emotionally and mentally most days, is that one day I will look back or stare in the faces of my children and wish I had done things differently. That I will regret my decisions or that my decisions for their lives cause them any sort of pain or harm. I find I spend most days failing to properly parent because I feel so guilty for not giving them enough time, enough affection, enough scripture, enough wisdom, enough of ME. I live in a state of feeling like I am never enough and my efforts always fall short. It’s exhausting and emotionally crippling. And though I recognize its hold in my life and I know very well who is responsible for its presence, I feel hopeless to overcome it.

2015 is coming to a close and I have already declared this year to be looked back upon as the year of my “I can’t do its”. God has slowly stripped me down these past 10 months, revealing to me just how incredibly weak I really am, that I do not possess any type of “super powers”, that I am just one person and I cannot wear a million hats and I can definitely not wear them well if I try. The year started with me facing a giant heartbreak in having to release a little boy out of our care that I knew needed more than what I could give. This was followed by the news that my little boy has autism and will face a different set of struggles in this life than the rest of us. I faced the truth that I couldn’t teach him myself, that I am unable to handle his melt-downs gracefully, that I have to release him completely into the hands of my Father and trust Him to guide me through this unknown territory. I took time off of school with only two classes left because the toll it was taking on my family and I was more than I could handle anymore. And now, I face the truth that I have been so desperately trying to fight for quite some time. Proverbs 16:9 says, “In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.” I have planned from the moment we became parents that I wanted to home school my kids. I experience public and private school and I hated them both. A million reasons surrounded this decision, and I was sure it was the right one. I have spent the last year and a half trying to make it work. Despite the fact that my life is far too crazy and unorganized, far too full for me to do it well, I pushed on believing it would work itself out…it would get better. However, its not getting better. I am overwhelmed with the pressure of trying to plan and teach, not simply just teach, but teach well. I wanted to make learning fun for my kids. I wanted to fill them with God’s truth as we learned, I wanted to enjoy watching my children grow in knowledge and truth, however I haven’t been able to do any of those things. I have literally just gotten by at this point. And in the process, I have struggled to be a good mother because the “teacher” had to come first most days. This week I finally caved. I looked up and said, “ I can’t do it anymore God.” With prayer and oh so much guilt and hesitation, I registered my two big kids for school yesterday and they will start Monday. Add this to my very long list of ways I feel I have failed as a mother, as a person. I feel weak, insecure, and so small. Deep down I know none of this is true, I know Satan is trying to keep me down, keep me from realizing who I am in Christ, that all of this anxiety and fear is not of God and not in the slightest bit necessary. However, my heart still aches and I still feel broken.

I also know that this is right where God wants me: Broken and weak. Because it’s only then that I realize just how much I need Christ, how great God is. It’s only then that I get to see His awesome power at work in my life. Oddly enough I am currently reading a book called, “The End of Me”…. I do not believe that is a coincidence. ;) God is stretching me and stripping me down to a place of complete vulnerability, and though it hurts and I am utterly exhausted, I am so grateful that He loves me enough to not leave me as I am. Satan has no hold on my life, I live in the light of the Victorious One. I am a child of the Almighty God and He wants me to be free. Free of guilt, free of my insecurities and fears. In Christ there is only freedom. We can’t embrace that fully until He brings us to our knees and forces us to wrap our arms around its beautiful truth and empty ourselves before Him, letting Him fill all of the cracks in our broken hearts.

           I can’t say I have fully embraced this freedom, though I so desperately want to. I have cried my share of tears this year….this week…. I have called out to Him and asked Him “how?!” And this morning He answered me loud and clear through the beautiful Priscilla Shirer’s words: “ASK for freedom, for release, for the ability to deflect lies and embrace truth”(Fervent, pg.101). Christ says in Matthew 7:7, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” There is a common theme here, and its simple. ASK. So, I am asking. And I will continue asking, not just for me but for my fellow struggling mama’s out there, because I know God is faithful to His promises and He promises freedom for His children. If I am failing to experience that freedom it has nothing to do with Him and everything to do with me. With my inability to fight the Enemies lies. Priscilla further says, “Fear is one of Satan’s primary schemes for crippling God’s people… IF he’s working that hard to keep me from moving forward, there must be some blessing or beauty from heaven he’s trying to divert me from” (Fervent pg. 109).  Well, I don’t know about you, but I sure as heck don’t want to give him anymore power in my life. My God is far bigger and He instructs over 300 times in scripture (thank you again Priscilla for shedding light on this truth) for his people to not to fear, to not to be discouraged… So to anyone else suffering from the ugly voice of Mommy Guilt, there is freedom from it. We don’t have to stay there and let Satan have that hold in our life, keeping us and our families from experiencing the full blessings and freedom of God. We simply just need to ASK. <3 

Day 2 - The Lonely Road of Motherhood

So I warned you all the consistency would be lacking on this little endeavor… in fairness, I had every intention of writing yesterday but my children love me so much they fail to give me a moment alone. ;) Anyways, the topic on my heart yesterday was a little less sarcastic and a lot more serious, which oddly enough was brought up in my newsfeed by another friend as well. I call this one: The Lonely Road.

Now, I can’t speak for those who are in a working environment because I personally haven’t experienced that. However, as a stay at home mother I can tell you that though I have countless friends and acquaintances that also stay home with their kids, I find it is nearly impossible to find anyone who actually has time to spare for a decent friendship. Everyone’s lives are so full, most working some type of job from home, taking care of their homes and families, extracurricular activities etc. No one has any time for simply just talking life with one another. Now, I have seen countless of my friends express their struggles as introverts, lacking a desire to even seek out relationships and time with others. However, I personally am an extrovert, I love people and I am fueled mentally, emotionally and spiritually when I am spending time with others. This is why I am an avid Facebooker, because the lack of personal relationships is so great in the “real world” that my social self cannot mentally handle being detached from society all day, every day, seven days a week. If it wasn’t for my mother, who is by far my dearest friend that I speak with daily, I honestly think I would be in a state of depression due to the lack of fellowship in my life.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have friends, and I love them dearly. I see people all throughout the week at different things such as church, co-op, awana, bible study, heck even my two daycare kiddos parents are some of my closest friends. However, it’s different when you have random conversations here and there and when you actually invest and share life with those around you. I can’t tell you the last time I had someone randomly “check in” with me just to see how my life was going. This is even more disheartening when I’ve poured out my heart to someone about personal struggles and never hear from them about it again. What happened to friendships that allowed for us to not only be each other’s shoulder to cry on, but vessels of encouragement and discipleship? I personally never imagined how difficult it would be to make friends as an adult, and moreover, I never dreamed becoming a mother would prove to be such a lonely venture. I know I am not alone in this feeling either, I see it all over my newsfeed, hear it from friends, and watch the evidence of it in the statistics of mother’s experiencing depression throughout our country. Why is it so hard for us to make time for each other? And if the effects are so devastating, why don’t we make more of an effort to fix the problem?

Personally, I believe this is one of Satan’s many schemes to keep God’s people down. We were wired to have community and the busier life gets, the less God’s people invest in one another. He brings us to a place of isolation, where even the strongest will struggle with depression and discouragement if not careful. I’d say this is where I am thankful for social media, but then again, I wonder if it didn’t exist then we’d be forced to seek out those relationships most of us desire so badly.

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work. If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!” – Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17

Day 1 - The Shoe Dilemma

It’s that time of year again, the 30 days of thankfulness have begun and I have yet again failed to participate because I am unorganized, forgetful and quite honestly, pretty lazy these days. However, an idea did cross my mind that I thought would be fun to execute… IF I manage to stick with it. ;)  Considering at the top of my thankful list are my 5 (and soon to be 6) beautiful babies, I thought I’d elaborate on the many ways they have managed to make life all the more, uh, colorful. So today I begin my blog series of: “Thirty things I never anticipated when becoming a parent”.   Except its now 9 days into November, so I may or may not attempt to make up for those lost precious days of opportunity… we will just see where this wind decides to blow in the next few weeks. ;)

So with that, I begin by sharing my first unforeseen experience when I dreamt of being a mommy, and that is: The Shoe Dilemma. I never, ever, not even for a second, anticipated the many ways shoes would affect my life as a parent. They are the thorn in my side, my very own personal kryptonite. I cringe at the thought of leaving my house for it is inevitable that at least half of my clan will be missing their shoes. I believe this is why the “10 minute per child” allowance exists for parents whenever they have a place to be, because we will be spending at least that amount of time searching relentlessly for shoes. It doesn’t matter if you purchased your children one pair or a dozen because when they time comes to go anywhere, they will ALL have mysteriously vanished… or at least one of each pair. Who knew that not only does a sock monster exist in our laundry rooms, but his older, much more evil brother the shoe scrounger also creeps around the halls eagerly waiting to devour the next pair of carelessly tossed footwear. Don’t bother buying a shoe tree or rack of some sort. I did that three years ago and to this day it still stands by my front door, a mere distant memory of a so called “great idea” I once had, for friends and strangers to notice and compliment despite its inability to bring any sort of organization to my home.  

So, to you dear sweet friends out there that are awaiting this beautiful journey called parenthood, I promise you this one thing: Tears will be shed, threats of butt whoopins will be made (with no follow through of course), blood pressures will rise, and one’s personal sanity will cease to exist at the mention of the perilous word “shoes”. I don’t care what size home you have, they will vanish. You will search ruthlessly under every bed, behind every piece of furniture, around every inch of your property, but they will not be found….at least not when you need them, and sometimes never at all. Just in this past month alone my girls have lost four pairs of brand new shoes, Elias’ right sneaker has been missing for several weeks, and Spanky is down to one pair of shoes out of the four we have purchased him…. Oh, just seeing that horrible word written down makes my stomach turn, my head ache, and my nerves crawl. Yes, it has become that big of a problem.

Once upon a time, in my blissful youth and naivety, I loved shoes. They were a staple in my life of fashion and self-worth as a young woman. And now, I’m 9 years into parenting and I want to punch the individual who decided going places barefoot was socially unacceptable.  Praise God for the few joyous months of summer when we can relish in the lack of need for footwear… for during the 9 other months of the year I want to burn every shoe store that dares to enter my path. Consider yourselves warned. ;)

Our Special Boy

I realized after I received a few private messages that I have been pretty vague regarding Landon’s situation. First off, let me just say that he is absolutely fine. He is healthy and there is nothing “wrong” with him, we are just navigating through unknown territory right now, that though not life threatening, it is still cloudy and unfamiliar. As parents you only want the best future for your child, so when curve balls are thrown at them and you foresee a more difficult future for them as a result, your heart breaks no matter the significance. We have suspected for some time now that Landon had more going on. For any that have followed my family over the years, Landon has always been our more “trying” child. I have never felt as though I had any control when it came to him and his temper has always been untamable.  We noticed as he got a little older that he was a loner and showed little interest in socializing with others. His speech has always been difficult for most to understand, and once he hit age 5 we knew it was time to seek out a more definitive answer to whatever we were dealing with.

In April I finally took him in to be evaluated.  It was one of those times where in your gut, you knew what was going to be said but you held on to that small glimmer of hope that you were completely wrong. However, I sat there and within the hour the Dr. informed me without hesitation that she believed he was on the spectrum. To any that are unfamiliar with that term (as I had been prior to all of this), she felt he showed signs of autism. I took it all in, listening to her go on about ADHD, mixed expressive-receptive disorder, etc…etc… I felt like I was dreaming. That sounds cliché, but I really did. I sat there almost numb to the news. What I dreaded most ended up being the truth. The next two months were full of evaluations and meetings, all resulting in an IEP and the final decision to send my baby to school, which is so not how I dreamed of his Kindergarten year.

Let me just say now that I understand this is not the end of the world. He is perfectly healthy, happy and his future is incredibly bright. He is an amazing kid with a beautiful personality and I know God has a great plan for his life. But no one in their right mind wants to hear their child is going to struggle more than others for the rest of his life. I have absolutely no idea how this will look as he gets older. He could very well receive enough therapy and help to get him to a point where he might not even be considered “on the spectrum” anymore, or he may continue the rest of his life struggling not only socially but in his ability to properly communicate with others because of how his brain processes information. Will this affect his career? Will it affect him in the dating and marriage department? What if I do put the kids in school one day, how are other children going to treat him? I just watched a video recently of a 21 year old man beating up an autistic teen at a party. He had someone video tape it and posted it for the world to see. That poor boy was utterly humiliated simply because he was a little different. We live in a very cruel world where bullying is rampant and suicides are happening younger and younger. I want to take my baby and hide him away from all of the ugliness he could possibly face in his future…that he will most likely face at times…all because God made him special.

I have had people play down my situation, making it seem as though it’s “not that big of a deal” or that they didn’t really think there was anything wrong with him. I have had others "over play" my situation, making him seem worse than he is. I have feared sharing it with too many people worrying he will receive some sort of permanent “label” that would cause him more grief. I have been stretched, wrecked, broken, and forced on my knees far more than I care to admit this year, quite possibly more so than any other time in my life. As I have sat in countless offices listening to evaluation after evaluation, sifting through their opinions and results, 98% of the time all on my own, the mama bear in me has fought her way out and dangit, I’m tired of what everyone else thinks. Heck, I'm just tired.

Nothing feels more comforting when you are facing trials of any kind than to know that others can relate, that there are people out there who understand you and what you are feeling. And the only way that happens is by sharing our lives with each other to some extent. This goes not only for myself, but for my boy. To sit her and pretend as that nothing is different is silly. To not share what is going on would be foolish because anyone that meets him will eventually take notice of some of his behaviors and characteristics that differ from what society calls “normal”. I mean, anyone that has seen us in the store when he is having one of his embarrassingly uncontrollable meltdowns and watched me leave in the middle of shopping because I have absolutely no way of bringing him back out of it…would either roll their eyes at me and judge my horrible parenting skills or assume that maybe more was going on. This is real life. We all have different obstacles, trials, and struggles we face and this happens to be one of ours. Four months ago I wouldn’t have said that. IN fact, I tried to write something like this then but removed it for fear of what others would think. But at this point, I don’t really care. I trust my God. I trust in His promises, not only for my life, but for my sweet boy. God makes no mistakes. He has a purpose in EVERY THING, and I have been praying fervently that He will use Landon and his situation for His glory.  

So, when I say I am struggling and when I mention our situation with Landon, this is what I mean. I don’t know what I am doing. I struggle to have a solid conversation with my son and often times this truly lays heavy on my heart. Will I ever be able to discuss life with my baby? Will this barrier always be there? I don’t know what our future holds with it all. I don’t know how to handle him when he has a meltdown, and generally, his melt downs result in my own melt down. I have cried enough this year to last me a decade. I feel lost many days, and yet so many times I feel overjoyed with the hope and progress we see. God has blessed us with AMAZING teachers at his school, an awesome speech therapist, and now a new Dr. that is finally giving me some guidance in all of this. I have met several people along the way who are dealing with very similar situations, and I have also learned that some dear friends are navigating through similar stormy waters right now. The support is amazing, and for that I am so incredibly grateful. In all of this, the only one truly struggling is myself right now because Landon is oblivious and very happy. He loves school, he loves life, and he’s a great kid. I can’t say that will always be the case, and I am sure as he gets older he will begin to understand and acknowledge more, but for now I am thankful that I can figure some of this out before I deal with my baby’s heart on top of it. My motto this past year has been “live for today”, and this situation is no different. We take it one day at a time. The future is unknown to me, but well known to my Creator, so I rest in that truth. <3

 

Grace for the Prostitute...Me.

This is an excerpt from my book that I read this morning... I have read Hosea more than once and I have heard something like this said a hundred different ways over the years. But God has been breaking down my heart more and more lately, humbling me, reminding me how completely broken and ugly I am without Him. He is teaching me what true grace looks like, and this story just rocked me today. This kind of love is incomprehensible for my human mind. Yet this IS my love story...except I am the one causing all the pain, I am the adulterous wife. What right do I have to withhold grace from others when God's grace for me never runs dry? Praise God He is nothing like me.


"Let me tell you a story about a man who was crazy in love with a woman. This man longed for this woman. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to cherish her. He delighted in her. He thought of her constantly and decided that she had to be his wife. Sounds beautiful, right? Now, let me tell you about the woman. She was... a whore. She didn't want to give herself to only one man.She loved the attention of multiple men. She didn't just love the attention, she loved the money and gifts he men she slept with gave to her. She knew she was loved exclusively and wholly by this one man, but she didn't care at all. He doted on her, gave her gifts, told her of his love, and she was indifferent.

Eventually, however, she gave in and became his wife. They committed to remaining faithful to each other. For him that was an eternal promise and a forever covenant. For her it was just words, like a thousand other words she had spoken previously and hadn't meant. After they were married for a bit, she decided she was bored and what she really needed was some of the excitement she had experienced before marriage. So she went back to her old lifestyle of chasing men. She looked for other lovers, yes, lovers...plural. She longed for the gifts they gave her. She sold herself to her other lovers and was an actual sex slave for them.

From the day she left, her husband began searching for her, and when he finally found her, he had to pay for her in order to bring her home. From his own money and wealth he one again sacrificed for this woman who had little or no love for him. The man had always been faithful, regardless of her actions. Of course, his heart hurt because of what she had done. He threatened to punish and ignore her, but in the end his love and his heart for this woman was so full and great that he took her back. He didn't just take her back reluctantly, though, He decided he would speak tenderly to her, allure her, woo her. He decided to give her gifts. He gave her hope that he would always love her. He asked her to call him her husband again. He had every right to take her outside the city gates and stone her, but instead he relinquished those rights. He literally owned her at this point, and yet he didn't want to be her master, he wanted to be intimate with her. He promised his steadfast love.

A story like this is stunning. We read about it and conclude that something is significantly wrong. He shouldn't love her after what she did to him. And if for some crazy reason he did decided to take her back, he should make her pay. He should be distant and remind her of all that she has done. He shouldn't be the one wooing her; she should have to work to woo him. She owes him big time.It seems that his forgiveness of her is just enabling her to continue her lifestyle -- that essentially what he is communicating to her is "Just go ahead and do whatever you want. I will bail you out in the end." This story rubs us the wrong way. It doesn't fit into our quid-pro-quo philosophy: "I will love you to the degree that you love me." In our self righteousness we can barely believe that anybody would be so dumb as to take a prostitute as a wife. It's crazy.

Here's the rub: You and I are that prostitute. Let that sink in for a minute.

Maybe you have guessed by now that the story above is from the book of Hosea. Hosea's marriage to Gomer id s parable illustrating God's relationship to his adulterous people (and by the way, we're "his adulterous people"). We play the role of the whore in this parable. Even writing that makes me a little angry. I don't want to view myself that way. I want to be the faithful one, the good one. And yet, the truth is that I a m aware of God's unmatched love for me, of his good and plentiful gifts, and yet every day I run after other loves. What other loves? Instead of reading my Bible, I decided to spend time on Facebook. Instead of believing that God's love is enough, I look for human approval and admiration. Instead of trusting that he will take care of me as he promised to, I manipulate and worry and try and figure out ways to take care of myself. I am the adulterous spouse, and so are you...


He continues to speak of His faithfulness to us, even in the midst of our unfaithfulness...

In the very moment that God's anger at sin should be the controlling emotion, his heart can't do it. He feels compassion instead of anger. Unspeakable grace.

Wrath is what you and I deserve. He has every right to come after us with his full wrath on display, but He tells us, " I am not like you, I am God. That is not how I deal with my beloved." (Hosea 11:8)

Excerpt from "Everyday Grace" by Jessica Thompson 

Saying Goodbye

So this is our final week with little man, as of Friday he will be moving on to another family. There is a mixture of emotions floating around my head and heart, many of which I am desperately trying to sort through. This past four months has been one of the most trying experiences of my life thus far. We have been living with one of the most difficult people I have ever met and God has broken me daily as I have sought to navigate through this situation, literally taking it day by day simply because thinking beyond that often seemed unbearable. We knew we signed up for a difficult road when it came to fostering children. They are coming from horrible situations and being pulled away from the only family they have ever known. Whether those families are “good” or not, it is a drastic change for these poor babies and we expected the repercussions to be challenging. However, “knowing” it and actually “living” it are two very different things. I have learned so much about my own heart, my own strengths and weaknesses, and my ability and inability to demonstrate Christ’s love in any and all circumstances. My spirit has been drained, my will has been broken, I have fallen before God more times than I can count seeking His power and grace to make it through just one more day.

I have looked into the eyes of this little boy and seen myself…. How I look before my gracious God. The whining, the complaining, the ungratefulness, the entitlement, the anger and hostility, the need for justice and retribution, the self-centeredness and the pride. All the things that made me want to quit, all the emotions and attitudes that made me want to give up and send him away are the very same things I myself continue to demonstrate before God. God never let me forget that. Oh I had my moments where I was blinded by anger and frustration and I failed to act and think as I should, but majority of the time I was slapped in the face with humility as God reminded me that that little boy standing in front of me was no different than myself. That ugliness was simply just more obvious in him because he is still immature and innocent enough to express himself without a filter. Ours is a more difficult for others to notice, but God sees every ugly bit of it.

With this continually in mind, I pressed on. I was forced more than ever in my life to demonstrate unconditional love. Those days when I didn’t feel love towards him, God reminded me that love is not simply a feeling, it is action. It is holding D after he made me feel so small and unappreciated, and reminding him that he is special, that he is loved and that not only do we love him but God loves him more. It is taking him places and spending time with him, even though he continually expressed his dissatisfaction and made us feel as though we never did anything for him. It is showing self-control in the most difficult of situations, taking deep breaths in those moments when all I wanted to do was scream and say things that I know would have forever left a scar on this dear boy’s heart. It is humbling myself before a child and allowing him to say and do things that bring every ounce of my pride bubbling to the surface, and choosing to simply walk away.  It is serving daily without any recognition, gratitude, or appreciation, but simply because there is a need and God has called me to fulfill it in His name.

Oh I have learned so much in such a short time. I’ve learned what it truly means to depend on God day in and day out, seeking Him from the depths of my soul so that I might not be another person in this child’s life that fails him. I know I did fail, far too many times than I can count. I pray God and D can forgive me for my weaknesses, and I pray that despite those failures God was still able to use us in his life, to plant seeds, to show, or at least to point him to Christ. As we prepare to send him off, my only prayer is that he will discover what it truly means to know and live for the Lord. He has an incredibly difficult road ahead of him, no matter the outcome of his current situation. The damage that has already been done will forever hold a place in his heart and it will take the power of God to get him through the journey set before him. I know God will use him in a mighty way one day if he simply just allows Him to. That will be my prayer for his life, even if/when we lose communication. He has a piece of my own heart forever with him, and though I cannot continue to help him at this time, I can and will serve him on my knees. I hope we can be more prepared for the future little lives God brings our way. My faith in God and His promises has grown tremendously, and I hope to hold tight to all I have learned and seen these past few months as we venture into the next chapter of our life. I know D is going to be living with an incredible couple that will love him, guide him and teach him to the best of their ability. What gives me peace above all else is that they are professing believers as well, so though we may not be imparting truth into his little spirit, I know they will continue to do so. Please pray for this little guy as he moves on. Though relief is one of the many emotions I admittedly feel at this time, I also feel concern and hurt as we release complete control into God’s hands and trust that He loves him more than we ever could, and He wants the absolute best for His life. With that, we say goodbye to our little buddy, and we thank God for giving us this opportunity to not only serve but to grow and know Him more deeply. 

D turns 8...

Our little buddy turns 8 tomorrow, but we have been celebrating since yesterday. ;) (we tend to drag birthdays out over here lol) What a whirlwind of emotions these last two months have been! The first month with our new friend left Dave and I questioning so many things: whether we were really supposed to be doing this, if we made a mistake taking an older child, if we had the desire or even heart to push on, etc..etc.. I never thought I'd be one of those people I so quickly criticized. The one's that claimed a child "didn't fit" with their family. Those words made my heart sink and I always became so furious with the individuals that had the nerve to speak them. And yet two weeks ago, I sat on my living room couch staring at Dave saying, "I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if he "fits" here". Even saying them made my stomach so sick and I felt a wave of guilt rush over me. What the heck was wrong with me? How could ANY child not fit?? I would never say one of my own didn't "fit", I don't care who birthed them, my thoughts have always been that if they are in need, they are family. So though I said those awful ugly words, my heart was screaming at me to hang on. I felt God whispering in the depths of my spirit, "I am holding you. I sent him to you guys, just trust me." I fought Him a bit and brought my concerns up to our case worker and she left it up to us to determine what we wanted to do. That was the day of court, when the judge would decide where this poor child would spend the next several months. To make a long story short, a family member has stepped up and is attempting to get custody, but this won't happen until sometime after school ends, if at all. With that, we were faced with the news that we were going to have this little guy stay with us for at least another two or three months. I thought this news would terrify my, but I had an overwhelming peace. Maybe it was because we knew there was an end, and if it continued to be as difficult as it had been, we could push through knowing there was a "time limit". I'm not really sure what was truly going on in my heart at the time, but I know Dave and I both agreed he would stay with us until that decision was officially made. 

The first month with D was tougher than I expected. Nothing like the horror stories we have all heard about foster care, he is a good kid. But he has kept his guard up with me, keeping me at arms length. I believe this was his way of staying loyal to his mama. He doesn't have a good father figure, but his mother does love him and he adores her. To let another "mother figure" in would be betrayal in a young child's mind, and I understood that even though it hurt. We had kept our age range with foster care to children under 6 because we wanted them younger than our own, but for some reason we both felt we should say yes when we got the phone call for this little man. Trying to love and guide a child that has such a foundation already is more difficult than I could have imagined. I love without hesitation. You give me a child off the street and I would love them as my own right at that moment. Kids have always been a soft spot for me. But this guy revealed to me that my love was surprisingly more conditional that I thought. As he remained distant and continued to tear me down, making comments that caused me to feel so very small and unappreciated,  I found my heart hardening towards him, a child. I felt silly and selfish for letting it get to me, but I never anticipated this journey consisting of children that would struggle to love us back. Children who could cause me to shut down inside and find it difficult to love them. I have fallen before God on several occasions, begging for Him to help me through this, to remind me why we were doing this. That I am loving this child regardless of what he does, says or is. He is a child of God and he needs us. Christ loved me when I was far less lovable than D could ever be. Christ fought for me, died for me, and provided me victory all while I remained in my ugly selfish sin, and yet here I am struggling to love this child in front of me. This broken little boy who has seen more ugliness and pain than a person should ever see, let alone a child.

That very same week I did devotions with my kids and God led me to this passage:

"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful." Luke 6:32-36

That was it for me. I knew what He was telling me, and I knew i needed to overcome my hurt and pride and love this boy regardless of his response, and I have been trying ever since.

God in is amazing grace, has given me a glimpse of hope. This past week I have watched D's walls slowly come down. He has come up to me numerous times this week and randomly just thrown his arms around me, hugging me for several minutes.  We had a family movie night last night and he asked if he could sit on my chair with me, and cuddled with me throughout the entire movie.  When I dropped him off at the gym daycare today, he reached over the counter for a hug and I actually had to pry loose from him because he wouldn't let go. He asked me to take him on a date for his birthday, just he and I. He has told me he loved me, though very quietly, as if too scared to say it out loud, but I heard it.His heart is softening, towards all of us. He is feeling more comfortable, more welcome, more like family.

I have no idea how long he will be with us, but I am so incredibly grateful that God forced me to get over myself, to press on. This year has proven to be a rough one so far. We have had so many things thrown at us in just three short months, and I have been forced to fall on my knees more times than I care to admit. I always struggle to admit I am having a difficult time because I feel like I have no room to complain when so many others have it far worse than I do. But all of our struggles are real, no matter what they are, and I am learning to accept that. I am not naive enough to believe that things are going to magically get better. The days and months ahead are going to be incredibly difficult. We are dealing with a child who has so much in his past, so much inside his little heart, and struggles to express himself in the right ways. There have been more appointments this past two months than I think I have had in the past three years combined. But God is walking with us through this, like He always does. He led us here. He led this little boy into our home, and I pray He provides us with the grace, love and strength we need to give him exactly what He needs. I pray we open ourselves enough before Him to let Him work in this sweet boys heart before we have to send him back into the "unknown".

 Today we celebrate 8 years of life for this special little boy, and I could not be more thankful that God brought him into our lives two short months ago. He will forever hold a place in my heart, in my family's hearts. Happy Birthday D, we do love you sweet boy! <3