Friday, December 19, 2014

On trust and love and God. Mostly God.

Here is what I cannot stop thinking about: the love of God. I grew up in church so the idea that God gave his son for my salvation is as ingrained in my memory as is the color of my eyes. But life lessons have a way of awakening the rote.

A main reason that young families do not do foster care is because they worry how their biological children will fare. This is a legitimate concern. In Another Place at the Table Kathy Harrison explains that it does not make sense to improve the welfare of one child to sacrifice another (paraphrased). Foster care only works if everyone in the home can be well cared for, protected, loved and attended to.

After a training class discussion about the impact of fostering on our biological kids Dave and I drove home saying, "We don't have to go through with it. We can still change our minds." It was the only time we had that discussion. Our only pause was to protect the three children we already had. It was only natural.

We decided what we were willing to handle and what issues we were unwilling to welcome in our home. We agreed it would be terribly hard to send a child away, but the safety of our kids was priority. They are young and they trust us to create a safe home for them. Even with these boundaries and expectations in place, I prayed and prayed about how Haven, Maiya and Tristan would manage. As I've mentioned I cannot describe the inner peace I had about becoming a foster family. I simply chose to have faith that we all, the five of us, were doing the right thing. We would manage details as best we could and the rest was in God's hands.

It has been a struggle, as I mentioned in my last post and in probably every conversation I've had since the end of September. Our standards are met in terms of the physical safety of everybody. However, when there are more children in the home, no matter how they got there, there is less one to one time with each. I usually believe this is so good for them. It is a fantastic life skill to know that the world is not all about you. I vacillate between confidence and anxiety. I remind myself of Peter dipping his toe into the water and having a little difficulty keeping his eyes on Jesus.

So, back to the love of God. What makes my eyes well up and brings a lump to my throat is the reality of John 3:16. I could quote it in my sleep: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only son...." I mean, who were we that God would love us, compared to his own son? We, as humans, did not even know what was good for us. We repeatedly chose self destruction. But for our sake God gave (to quote our pastor) his first and best. He did not hold back.

This kind of love is profound and beyond what is rational. It becomes more profound to me when I think of the knots in my stomach as I watched my biological children struggle during those early weeks. I felt their tension deep, deep in my body. It was different than the tears running down my face during the first phone call the girls had with a family member. It is almost like the difference between empathy and sympathy.

How revolutionary is the love of God. I mean, it isn't like God just took us in along with Jesus and raised us together. He literally sacrificed Jesus to save us. Sheesh.

I am not suggesting that we should sacrifice our children for other children. I'm with Kathy Harrison on that point--and probably the rest of the sane world. What I do know is that God sees a bigger picture than we do. God knew Jesus would live again and he knows our future too. As my children trust Dave and me to keep our home a safe place, I'm glad that we can trust God with the same confidence.

Maybe this realization was just for me and sounds super weird to anybody else. If you don't believe in Jesus I will just say this: the love of God is The Thing which has held me together throughout my life. It's as real as my heart beat and my lungs. And if you do believe, well, you probably already knew everything you just read. But here's to God meeting us where we are and speaking in ways we understand.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

parenting, faith and the ymca

This morning I had some quiet time at the YMCA. (If you ask me about the YMCA you might get more information than you care for. So for the sake of brevity I'll just say I understand why the Village People wrote a song about it.) But this is not about the YMCA, except that I was there and I ran.

I am not a good runner, but I appreciate the single-mindedness of it. Lately there are so many things to think about all the time. My mind is busy from the moment I wake up until I tuck five little people into bed at night. Laundry. Food.Cleaning. Marriage. Appointments. Repairs. Bills. Social services. Activities. Play with kids. Discipline kids. Bathe kids. The future. Vacations. On the treadmill there is only one thing: one step in front of another.

There is a seasoned foster mom who goes to our church. I barely know her but I've latched onto her and plagued her with questions. She's given me support and tips and I lap it up like a hungry kitten. She recently responded to my tears and self doubt with a smile and "It's like you have a huge mirror shoved in your face." So ... no solutions this time, huh? Oookayyyy.

She's right. The mirror she speaks of is more like a full size mirror in a public bathroom with bad lighting. Suddenly I can see the ugliest parts of myself with alarming clarity. It makes me want to run. Fast.

We signed up to be foster parents because we have so much and we felt we had so much to give. Turns out we were wrong. Whatever reservoir of patience, grace and kindness we had got slurped up in the first, oh, 24 hours. So, we have had to ask God for help like never before. We cannot do this on our own. We cannot even do this with a little help from our friends. We can only move forward because of God's own patience, grace and kindness toward us. It is a reality we have to connect to constantly. It is hard to explain but some of you know what I mean.

I don't mean to turn this back into a commercial for the Y, but exercise has been an avenue of grace for me. I joined about a month into fostering. My children have a happy place to play while I focus on one thing for a little while. I run, if I may, in the right direction. It is therapeutic and calming and brings me closer to the person I am not but the person I hope to be.

My faith and heart are stretching, and it doesn't always feel good. On the treadmill it hurts a little but as my heart rate rises so does my confidence that I can keep going just a little bit longer.

Thursday, October 02, 2014

Nothing Worth Doing is Ever Easy

Well, we got the phone call from the Department of Social Services and we said yes. I have so many things on my mind about our first week as a foster family. However, most of the stories are not my stories; they are our foster daughters' stories, and they are not mine to share.

I will share my own story. It took a shorter amount of time than I care to share for me to think, "What have I gotten myself into?" It wasn't anything about the two cherubs that were brought to my house last Friday; one feverish and both wary. It was the system. It was the fact that I now had two little girls whom I did not know and did not know me at my house. Indefinitely.  I was not given a lot of information. I kind of just had to trust that social services made the right call. I had to trust that my house was safer than their house right now and that was all that mattered.

So we went to the doctor for the fever, bathed, went clothes shopping, played outside, tried to make drinking water fun, styled hair, taught the difference between a cow and an elephant, read bedtime stories, said no, set their favorite show to tape on the DVR, watched Haven and Maiya's soccer games, went to church and went on play dates. By day 2 they decided to call me Titi (Spanish for Auntie) and by day 3 they said, "I love you Titi."

If that all sounds sunny, please do not go sign up to be a foster parent and yell at me when your house is turned upside down. Lots of moments of the week were sweet, but the air is thick with transition and uncertainty. Everybody needs time to talk (me especially). Everybody needs to know they are special, valuable and important. I have spent most of the week thinking, "Who doesn't feel special right now?" and racking my brain for ways to fix that.

I asked one of our (bio) kids how he/she felt and he/she said, "Mom, we just talked about it!" I guess I've been a little intense myself.

I need a neon flashing sign on a t-shirt that says, "You're super special and I'm so glad you're in this family." For my own peace of mind.

I am not a fan of uncertainty, lack of control, or transition. Given that, one might wonder why we became foster parents. We couldn't not. I cannot explain it another way. I believe in God calling us to do certain things and, for Dave and me, this was one of those things. I love the quote, "Nothing worth doing is ever easy."

At the end of one day this week I felt so empty. I needed a sign, even post-it size, to show me this was the right thing. As I cared for one of the little girls we talked. I can't share her story, but she gave me shred of information that brought tears to my eyes. I was so glad she was there with me. For however long we can offer a shelter, we will.

We named our first son Haven because we wanted to create just that for ourselves and our children. We felt the strength of comfort and safety was a great place to spend our lives. As we move forward we continue to work toward that environment. If you pray, pray for us. This is a journey and some days have worse weather than others. It is not easy; it's just worth it.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

5 reasons to stop comparing your life to your Facebook friend’s life

I don't know about you - no wait, I do know about you: you’re on Facebook.  Anyway, my Facebook feed is filled with so many stories that scare me and lure me in: Nine reasons why your water is making you sick! The fifteen most disgusting places to vacation! Seven signs you have cancer and don’t even know it! The three foods that will ensure your child does not grow up to be self- indulgent, fast-food eating, lazy, cruel person! I exaggerate, but still. You get it because on Facebook you get it too.

I don’t really have a list of 5 things for you to read. But I thought the title might get you to click. I guess it did. Know why? Because it sounds like every other title in your feed and it popped up right below a picture of your ex-boyfriend’s 12-month old who is already potty trained. Dare I say there is too much information at our fingertips?

When we are bored we scroll through the newest updates from our 271 “friends.” While Facebook provides a connection it also provides a window. It’s a window that was covered with curtains a decade ago, a window in which only a handful of close friends were invited to look.

I was happy to have it when I saw my 30-some cousins at my Grandma’s 90th birthday party. Most of them I had not seen in a decade, but I recognized them and even their children, thanks to Facebook.

We used to exclusively write about our feelings in journals and greeting cards. Now we can see the beautiful things couples write to each other on birthdays and anniversaries; we see children grow with each birthday and read the moving sentiment their parent writes. You see the homes purchased, vacations experienced, the growing pregnant bellies. You see a lot and you and I can start to think it is reality. Not just a piece of reality.

We are created to learn from one another. The danger comes when we do not filter what we are “learning.” In addition to all that fun stuff your college roommate’s neighbor is doing this summer, she’s also taking out the trash, fighting with her husband and treating a yeast infection.  So keep in mind, while you are privy to So Much More of the beautiful moments of your acquaintance’s lives, they still have drudgery, just like you.

My life is beautiful, difficult, exciting, boring and just plain life. I bet yours it too. So next time you scroll through that feed while you’re cooking dinner and pouring milk for your toddler – oh that was me, you’re probably doing it from a private island while pool boys respond to your every whim, but anyway, chin up. Your life is beautiful, difficult, exciting and boring too. None of our lives are as fantastic as they appear on Facebook. Go enjoy yours!

Thursday, May 08, 2014

Happy Mother's Day, Moms!

Lately I am struck by the privilege it is to be on the journey of motherhood. With Mother's Day just three sleeps away, I feel it apropos to share my stricken state with you - my 3 remaining readers.

With five foster classes done, we've learned the importance of a child's connection with the biological family. We've learned skills to keep that connection even when a child enters foster care. I am reminded again of the great power of motherhood. It is power we are not entitled to, it just exists with the birth of a child. It is our privilege to be a parent and we fill a gap our child will always feel without us.

Motherhood is many things. It is work and exhaustion and too many days without a shower. Sometimes it is a gift someone dropped in the mud or forgot to wrap, but it is still, truly, a gift. I've had hard, add-a-wrinkle-to-my-forehead days but recently I've had beautiful moments with each of my children. These are the moments I think of when I say that I love being a mom.


Haven: When I tucked him in bed last night he talked to me about his book, he kissed my face many times, then as I left he watched me leave. I turned around and he was smiling at me.

Maiya: Yesterday she belted out: "our mom is an awesome mom" complete with hand motions.

Tristan: He had to "beep" (poop, for any non-Tristanese speakers among us). I asked if he wanted to sit on the toilet and when I perched his tiny hienie on the seat he threw his arms around my neck. We sat like that for a while, his arms clinging to me as he tried something new.

These little moments are set between the bickering about who got a larger scoop of ice cream. They are interspersed around the frustration I feel when I hear my 2-year-old yell, "You mean!" when he does not get what he wants. They insulate me in the mayhem of dinner prep and late-afternoon meltdowns.

My life as a mom is a privilege. It is not simple or easy or laughing all day in the sunshine. The responsibility is profound but the ability to shoulder that responsibility even more so.  There is so much that goes into my ability to sustain as a mom, and some of those things are outside of my control. The ability to enjoy the good moments and tolerate the bad ones takes an inner strength cultivated by the support of family and friends. My husband is loving and helpful and more than I could have predicted when I picked him out thirteen years ago. The education I chose prepared me cognitively for the task. I have an ongoing sense of hope because of my faith in God. I am blessed to (most days) have the physical and emotional resources to be the kind of mom I want to be.

I think of biological mothers who will some day know me as the woman who has custody of her child. I think of the support they might not have. I think of the deep loss of losing their child, even if only for a time.

Happy mother's day to the moms who have the resources to be the moms they want to be, and happy mother's day to the ones who don't. May we embrace our task. May we see these wild, beautiful creatures for the gifts they are and treat them as such.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Expecting Love

We are expecting, but not the way we did three times before. We are choosing the unknown to extend love outside of our biological family. I am excited and scared and hopeful and confident about the choice.

A new person or people will join our family sometime in the next several months. It could be a boy, a girl, two boys, two girls. It could be an infant, or it could be a preschooler. Or both. They could stay with us for days, or forever. In short, we are moving toward foster care/adoption.

Yesterday I taught Haven and Maiya the definitions of adopted, foster and biological children. I asked them why children go into foster care and their answers were clear and concise. We brainstormed about why fostering children might be fun and why it might be hard. One is more excited than the other, which is interesting. It was just that way when I was pregnant with Tristan. Once he was born, they swapped and one was more excited and the other more cautious until we adjusted to the change.

Part of our foster/adopt application included a family drawing by each of the kids. They were asked to include the foster child or children in the drawing and write something if they wanted to. Maiya drew a picture of Dave and Tristan in the house, me outside, and prominently, in the middle of the page, Haven, another little girl and herself walking on a huge rainbow. The little girl was jumping rope and smiling. Haven's drawing included 7 of us lined up, smiling. Tristan was tucked between Dave and me and Haven, Maiya and 2 foster children were lined up next to us. His caption read, "I will love to have a new part of the family." Tristan's picture was just as heartfelt, I'm sure, but more difficult to decipher.

So far Dave and I attended 2 foster parent classes. These classes are meant to educate and scare us. They are meant to bring the reality of foster care into focus. This week a class member asked the insightful question, "How do we love these children like they are our own with the knowledge they may not always be with us?" There is only one answer to this: prepare to be hurt.

Who would do this?! Who opts for pain? I see lots of people in history who gave up their comfort for the benefit of another, and our family is honored to learn from their remarkable legacies. When we lived in New Jersey we went to a church where the pastor reminded us over and over again, "If you are blessed, it is so that you can be a blessing." We now go to a church in New York and the pastor uses a long piece of rope as the church "mascot." In the center of the rope is about an inch of black electrical tape. This tape represents our life and the rope represents eternity. We spend so much time focusing on the life we have and spend little time thinking about what will happen after it ends.

Whether you believe in God and a spiritual eternity or not, we all know that how we live now impacts others after we are gone. I want to get to the end of my black tape and know that I was more than just happy, more than just comfortable.

This Easter I am thinking about sacrificial love. Love which stays and looks at a broken and selfish person (newsflash: that's all of us) and says, "I see you completely and I love you." That is the kind of love that revolutionizes. This is the way God loves us all. It is the kind of love that is worth sowing into a person, even if we don't get to see what it grows. So, we are expecting. We do not know who to expect, but know we can expect to learn a lot, we can expect to grow. Most of all, we can expect to love.