What are the chances? One-in-a-million? One-in-two-million? I really have no idea what the chances are. But I do know this:
For the past year or so I have been making Wal*Mart trips after the kids are in bed. These trips usually occur every other month. In this past year I have NEVER once seen a single person that I know during these evening trips alone.
Last night I made my trip for those necessities that are so much cheaper at Wal*Mart; such as the ever essential toilet paper which we use so much of with all of these girls. I was nearly finished with my list when I went to the opposite side of the store for the very last item on my list. As I was walking I glanced down an aisle and thought, "that lady looks familiar." I did a double take and stopped in my tracks.
It was our former foster children's new foster mother. I inquired of the children, eager for the news that the caseworker does not gives us. I have always had the other foster family's phone number but it never seemed right to call. And then I see her at Wal*Mart. And again, I ask, what are the chances? I believe that only God could have orchestrated this "chance" meeting.
I'm still trying to process my feelings over this encounter.
After talking to her for several minutes she showed me a photo of our foster son's hair cut. I could have cried. (And later I did.) I had begged for his hair to be cut, but his mom would not allow it. She finally did, and he looked so adorable. He lost his "baby" look and instead gained the face of a toddler. The teeth he was cutting when he left came through. I don't know if I would have recognized him. And that was hard to take.
Our foster daughter is much the same. She regressed when her brother came to live with them. Our foster son was completely out of sorts until just recently.
It was a painful meeting. I'm not sure why God allowed it. My "mother's heart" was so hurt at hearing how our foster son was confused, not sleeping well, and crying.
I will forever carry this little boy in my heart. I know that no matter how long I live I will wonder about where he is and if he is safe. I will pray for him as I do my own girls.
I do not understand the ways of God, nor do I pretend to. These two children have forever changed me. I'm sure that they have impacted me more than I did them.
The hurt I am feeling is still raw. I like to understand why things happen, and I don't know that I ever will be able to fully comprehend this situation.
I decided to tell the girls this morning about my meeting last evening and Anne cried. Maggie emphatically claimed how she missed him. Abbey insisted that we pray for him immediately. They want him to come back, but he never will. Their hearts are still hurting.
I believe they will be very different adults for having this experience as children. We are all changed. Loving someone deeply and letting them go will never be easy. It is my first experience with a grief so deep.
I apologize for this somewhat rambling post, as I mentioned before I am still processing these feelings. I promise to post something more positive in the future!
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Humbled
Humbled.
By a five-year-old. It never ceases to amaze me the Spiritual depth that a child so young can have.
Over the past few weeks I have beendiligently searching obsessing over houses. What is the right house for us? Is now a good time to move? What is God's timing? Will the "perfect" house ever come along? I have spent countless hours on the real estate website, zillow, the county assessment site, searching, researching and following the trail of every possible house that might be an option for us.
Last week at the mom's group I attend we had a guest speaker talking about prayer, and how to "Pray Like Crazy for your Kids" and "Pray Like Crazy for your Husband". She talked about fasting in a way I had never heard before. Since there isn't a particular food that I care for above any other, I decided that I would fast from house searching during the day since it was taking so much TIME. Trent and I would still look together in the evenings, but during the day I would fast from it. Our speaker said that fasting and praying go hand-in-hand. You can't have one without the other. During the time that I would normally spend house hunting I would spend in prayer. This is often 30-45 minutes while the kids are napping. And any time throughout the day that a house or houses would pop into my head I would say a quick prayer. I didn't really pray specific prayers, more just along the lines of peace, in trusting in God's timing and God's will.
But where was I? Oh yes, I was humbled. So here I thought I had grown tremendously this past week (and I still think I have!), when my five year old humbled me. We put an offer in on a house on Monday, and on Tuesday afternoon the offer was accepted! We still have details to work out, but my prayer is that from here on out things will go smoothly.
This morning at breakfast I was excited about this house and thinking about light fixtures and paint and mentally organizing the house (because I'm crazy like that) when Anne starts talking. Our conversation went something like this:
Anne, " Last night after you went out of my room, I prayed that Satan would just turn around and that he would tell God that he is sorry and that he would stop trying to get people to do bad things. And then maybe God would let him be an angel again."
*I think my heart stopped beating here.*
Abbey chimes in with, "And then Annie prayed for your dad that you used to have when you were a little girl and that he would love Jesus, too."
*And here my heart broke.*
I think some people are born with a humble spirit. I was not. I like to feel independent. Unfortunately independence and pride are often best friends. I had felt pretty proud and excited about the Spiritual transformation that I had seen in myself in the past week. And then my five and almost four-year-old daughters displayed so much more Spiritual maturity than I have at 28.
Don't get me wrong. I truly believe that God cares and hears our prayers for the things we worry about and struggle with, things that are often of this world (such as houses)! And he answers those prayers as I have seen in my life this week. How much more will He hear and answer the innocent prayers of sweet children who are praying (not for a house) but for lost souls?? I mean, who prays for Satan???
I had spend so much time thinking and obsessing and worrying and praying about a house. When was the last time I prayed for my dad's soul? When was the last time I prayed for anyone's soul? I have multiple family members who are not walking with the Lord. Why don't I pray for them??? How is is that I have enough faith to pray for a house and believe that God will answer that prayer, but not enough faith to pray for the lost all around me?
Mark 9:24 says, "Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!""
In this passage of Scripture Jesus' disciples had tried to cast an evil spirit out of a boy, but could not do it. The boy was brought to Jesus and the father pleaded that if Jesus could do anything to please have pity on them and help the boy. Jesus responds, "If you can? Everything is possible to him who believes." And that is when the boy's father says, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"
Sometimes things seem so impossible to me because I have seen no change for years. Perhaps much as this boy's father had seen no change in him for many years. Yet, he wanted to believe. Sometimes in our human and imperfect lives it is so hard to truly believe that something long unchanged CAN BE TRANSFORMED!!
This morning Jesus spoke to me through my two small children. If they can pray for lost souls, so can I. And I will pray, believing for change, and at the same time asking for help to overcome my unbelief. Thank you, Lord, for entrusting these precious children to me. So often I believe I am the one who will be nurturing them, encouraging them, spurring them on to do the good works of the Lord, when clearly, at least today, it was the opposite.
By a five-year-old. It never ceases to amaze me the Spiritual depth that a child so young can have.
Over the past few weeks I have been
Last week at the mom's group I attend we had a guest speaker talking about prayer, and how to "Pray Like Crazy for your Kids" and "Pray Like Crazy for your Husband". She talked about fasting in a way I had never heard before. Since there isn't a particular food that I care for above any other, I decided that I would fast from house searching during the day since it was taking so much TIME. Trent and I would still look together in the evenings, but during the day I would fast from it. Our speaker said that fasting and praying go hand-in-hand. You can't have one without the other. During the time that I would normally spend house hunting I would spend in prayer. This is often 30-45 minutes while the kids are napping. And any time throughout the day that a house or houses would pop into my head I would say a quick prayer. I didn't really pray specific prayers, more just along the lines of peace, in trusting in God's timing and God's will.
But where was I? Oh yes, I was humbled. So here I thought I had grown tremendously this past week (and I still think I have!), when my five year old humbled me. We put an offer in on a house on Monday, and on Tuesday afternoon the offer was accepted! We still have details to work out, but my prayer is that from here on out things will go smoothly.
This morning at breakfast I was excited about this house and thinking about light fixtures and paint and mentally organizing the house (because I'm crazy like that) when Anne starts talking. Our conversation went something like this:
Anne, " Last night after you went out of my room, I prayed that Satan would just turn around and that he would tell God that he is sorry and that he would stop trying to get people to do bad things. And then maybe God would let him be an angel again."
*I think my heart stopped beating here.*
Abbey chimes in with, "And then Annie prayed for your dad that you used to have when you were a little girl and that he would love Jesus, too."
*And here my heart broke.*
I think some people are born with a humble spirit. I was not. I like to feel independent. Unfortunately independence and pride are often best friends. I had felt pretty proud and excited about the Spiritual transformation that I had seen in myself in the past week. And then my five and almost four-year-old daughters displayed so much more Spiritual maturity than I have at 28.
Don't get me wrong. I truly believe that God cares and hears our prayers for the things we worry about and struggle with, things that are often of this world (such as houses)! And he answers those prayers as I have seen in my life this week. How much more will He hear and answer the innocent prayers of sweet children who are praying (not for a house) but for lost souls?? I mean, who prays for Satan???
I had spend so much time thinking and obsessing and worrying and praying about a house. When was the last time I prayed for my dad's soul? When was the last time I prayed for anyone's soul? I have multiple family members who are not walking with the Lord. Why don't I pray for them??? How is is that I have enough faith to pray for a house and believe that God will answer that prayer, but not enough faith to pray for the lost all around me?
Mark 9:24 says, "Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!""
In this passage of Scripture Jesus' disciples had tried to cast an evil spirit out of a boy, but could not do it. The boy was brought to Jesus and the father pleaded that if Jesus could do anything to please have pity on them and help the boy. Jesus responds, "If you can? Everything is possible to him who believes." And that is when the boy's father says, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"
Sometimes things seem so impossible to me because I have seen no change for years. Perhaps much as this boy's father had seen no change in him for many years. Yet, he wanted to believe. Sometimes in our human and imperfect lives it is so hard to truly believe that something long unchanged CAN BE TRANSFORMED!!
This morning Jesus spoke to me through my two small children. If they can pray for lost souls, so can I. And I will pray, believing for change, and at the same time asking for help to overcome my unbelief. Thank you, Lord, for entrusting these precious children to me. So often I believe I am the one who will be nurturing them, encouraging them, spurring them on to do the good works of the Lord, when clearly, at least today, it was the opposite.
Friday, March 1, 2013
A Heartbreaking Good-Bye
Last week we said good-bye to our dear foster son. The judge approved for him to move to the same foster home as his sister. I received a call from a caseworker at 11:30 am that this was the decision, and a caseworker came an hour later and picked him up.
I had been mentally preparing myself for this as we knew there was a very real possibility that he would leave. I had already packed most of his toys. I had one hour to pack his remaining items and say good-bye. I was a complete disaster. I didn't have an emotional attachment to most of his clothing, but my mom had made matching pajamas for the kids for Christmas - in a Christmas plaid. It was a long-sleeve button up shirt that we always called his "old man pajamas" because he reminded us of a little old man toddling around in a night shirt. When I got to that pair of pajamas to put away forever I cried and cried and cried.
Before I knew it the caseworker had arrived at our home. She began taking his things to her car. She walked out the door and our foster son said, "Bye-bye!" I lost it again. The poor dear didn't understand that it would be him leaving this time.
She took him from my arms. I kissed his chubby cheeks for the last time. She took him away. I watched from the window, sobbing silently and she carried my little boy away. I'll never forget him sitting in the back seat, looking around, probably wondering where he was going and why. They drove away and were gone from our lives.
This good-bye was much more difficult for me than I expected. I closed his bedroom door because it was too painful for me to see his crib and know that he will never sleep in it again.
The day passed, slowly and painfully. But the next morning came, and there was joy. Despite the sadness, there was joy. Each day has gotten easier. Much as we loved him, he also carried with him a huge burden, one that we had gladly shouldered, but a burden nonetheless.
Yesterday marked one week since he departure. I finally gathered up the sheets and blankets from his crib to wash. As a put one of the blankets into the machine I caught a whiff of his smell. I held the blanket to my face and smelled him for the last time. I considered not washing the blanket, but thought it would help me move on if I didn't have that reminder of him.
Today Maggie found the ball we got him for his birthday under the couch. She said she misses him. We all do. We are moving on, but we still miss him. I am thankful that he is with a Christian family and will continue to pray for him and his sister.
I had been mentally preparing myself for this as we knew there was a very real possibility that he would leave. I had already packed most of his toys. I had one hour to pack his remaining items and say good-bye. I was a complete disaster. I didn't have an emotional attachment to most of his clothing, but my mom had made matching pajamas for the kids for Christmas - in a Christmas plaid. It was a long-sleeve button up shirt that we always called his "old man pajamas" because he reminded us of a little old man toddling around in a night shirt. When I got to that pair of pajamas to put away forever I cried and cried and cried.
Before I knew it the caseworker had arrived at our home. She began taking his things to her car. She walked out the door and our foster son said, "Bye-bye!" I lost it again. The poor dear didn't understand that it would be him leaving this time.
She took him from my arms. I kissed his chubby cheeks for the last time. She took him away. I watched from the window, sobbing silently and she carried my little boy away. I'll never forget him sitting in the back seat, looking around, probably wondering where he was going and why. They drove away and were gone from our lives.
This good-bye was much more difficult for me than I expected. I closed his bedroom door because it was too painful for me to see his crib and know that he will never sleep in it again.
The day passed, slowly and painfully. But the next morning came, and there was joy. Despite the sadness, there was joy. Each day has gotten easier. Much as we loved him, he also carried with him a huge burden, one that we had gladly shouldered, but a burden nonetheless.
Yesterday marked one week since he departure. I finally gathered up the sheets and blankets from his crib to wash. As a put one of the blankets into the machine I caught a whiff of his smell. I held the blanket to my face and smelled him for the last time. I considered not washing the blanket, but thought it would help me move on if I didn't have that reminder of him.
Today Maggie found the ball we got him for his birthday under the couch. She said she misses him. We all do. We are moving on, but we still miss him. I am thankful that he is with a Christian family and will continue to pray for him and his sister.
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