For Such a Time As This...

When I began foster care, my plan was to only accept children believed to be adoptable.  I wanted to protect my heart and never be a caregiver for those I could expect to lose.  While I was in the process of finishing my certification, I got to meet Jen Hatmaker (I'm just a tad obsessed with her...) and hear her speak one weekend in Birmingham last April.  It was as if she planned her entire lesson based on my life and what God needed to share with me in those two short days.  I wrote down every word that came out of her mouth and realized at that moment those very words were changing my life.  She said,  "One of the reasons we struggle to believe is that we simply cannot do what God's asking us to do.  Our limits blind us to God's capacity.  You do not need to have full confidence in yourself to say 'yes.' Faith doesn't erase insecurity, doubt, suffering, or fear.  It simply overcomes those things.  We know for SURE that God is capable, higher, good, and trustworthy.  What God wants accomplished will be accomplished.  We are too often unaware of His hand in our story.  If we would begin to notice His hand in our lives, we would be a lot less confused."  And, there is was.  It was then that I knew.  I knew God's plans for me in foster care were bigger than what I planned for myself.  I knew I had to say "yes" to God and no to my fears and questions.  That realization lead me to say "yes" when I was asked to take a four to six week placement on November 2, 2015.

What was supposed to be a four to six week placement ended up being three days short of nine months.  I've shared some of my experience in previous posts.  I didn't write as much as I wanted, because I was absolutely positively exhausted a little tired.  My lazy nights were replaced with cooking dinner, baths, stories, and bedtime prayers.  I fell in love with her and her precious personality the first night.  It was just the two of us, figuring it out together.  To me, we were a perfect pair.  I remember the feeling of complete fulfillment I had early on in the process.  I couldn't wait to pick her up from daycare every day.  It was the cutest thing: She would see me, scream, and take off running to give me a hug.  Her teacher told me she asked several times a day when I would be there to take her home. We had so much fun together.   I tried to fit in as many experiences as I could to teach her consistency, stability, unconditional love, and the faithfulness of her heavenly Father.  One of the funniest things she ever said was in the car on the way home one night.  She asked me what God looked like.  Before I could drum up an answer, I heard her sweet little voice in the backseat say, "Dear God, please send me down a picture from heaven so I'll know what you look like.  I'm at the Kangaroo (gas station)."  I thought it was so hilarious that she felt she had to tell God her location...as if He didn't know.  I pray her understanding of Him and the story He is writing in her life continues to grow, and she can look back on her time with me knowing this was all a part of His perfect plan.

While we shared many laughs and had lots of great times, fostering wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.  It's the best thing I've ever done, but it's simultaneously the most physically, mentally, and emotionally draining.  Discipline was a big struggle.  I wasn't allowed to spank, so I had to be creative to find what would work best to teach her to make better choices.  I don't know that we ever figured it out, completely.  It was super hard for me to find the balance between holding her accountable for her actions and giving her some grace due to her situation.  Maintaining positive and healthy relationships with her family members was really important to me, also.  I often held my true feelings and thoughts inside to prevent awkwardness or confrontation.  I couldn't make sense of many things they said or decisions they made, but it was clear we all agreed that our first priority was this precious baby girl.

Skip over to June 28, 2016- The dreaded meeting.  I was told that more than likely, a decision would be made to transfer placement to a family member.  A's family, their attorneys, DHR, and I gathered for an ISP meeting to discuss the plan.  While I can't disclose details of the meeting, it was decided she would leave my care due to the petition of custody from a family member.  I was to take her to her new home the next morning at 10am.  I held in the tears until a few minutes before the meeting was over.  The reality of it began to sink in, and I knew that in less than 24 hours, I would have to say goodbye.

While I hadn't mentioned the possibility of a decision being made that day to A, I tried to prepare her the week prior that it could happen soon.  When we would talk about it, she seemed to be excited to be reunited with her family.  But, I knew her little heart was very conflicted and confused, and there was no way she could grasp the depth of what was about to happen.  I guess that made it easier for me, in a way.  I cried all the way home from the meeting, and tried to pretend I was ok when I walked into my mom's to see A.  I waited a little bit, then broke the news to her.  She seemed a bit stunned, then immediately showed signs of excitement and anticipation.  But almost as quickly as that happened, you could see her face change as reality began to sink in.  She was extra clingy that night and wanted to sit with me or be with me wherever I was.  She told me a couple times she didn't want to go, and she asked a lot of "why" questions.  I reassured her she would have fun, I would still see her, and tried my best to persuade her life would be as normal as it had been for the last nine months. She didn't really fall for it.  While she didn't cry (thankfully), I could tell she wasn't sold on leaving.

The next morning, I was thankful that considering all things, I felt I was holding up pretty well.  I had her things packed and ready to go.  She said her goodbyes to my sister, niece, nephew, and mom.  That was heart wrenching to watch.  We finally got in the car and headed on our way.  I really couldn't tell you much that was said on the drive there.  I was very obviously distracted and in disbelief the day had come.  We arrived, went inside, and I saw her new room.  I was welcomed to stay for a while, but my heart was screaming for me to hurry.  I tried to make it as quick and painless as possible, hoping my emotions would remain hidden until I got in the car.  As we were headed out, the family member asked A to walk outside with us as I left.  She instead chose to sit in a chair and watch me leave.  She just froze.  I hugged her, told her I loved her, and began walking out the door.  I turned around and looked back to find her little head resting on the arm of the chair, starring at me.  I blew her a kiss, told her I loved her, and asked if she was ok.  She didn't respond, just maintained a blank stare, still frozen in the same position.  I knew then I was on the brink of losing it.  I got to my car as fast as I could.  The door closed, and I barely got the car in drive before I started crying.  I wasn't anticipating the deep grief I would feel after leaving her there.  It was worse than I anticipated, worse than I dreamed it would be.  I had to pull over at a nearby parking lot, and I wept for about 20 minutes.  It didn't feel right.  I wasn't convinced the right decision was made.  I didn't know how to do life without her.  It had only been nine months, but my life was consumed by her.  I couldn't, and still can't, switch back to what life was like before her.

Every day gets better, but I've yet to make it 24 hours without crying.  I miss her so badly.  I think about her all the time and wonder what she's doing.  I wonder what clothes she's wearing and how late she sleeps.  I wonder what she's eating and if she's brushed her teeth.  I want to know she's laughing and she's happy.  I am claiming God's promises and Jen's reminder that God rejoices when I rejoice, and He mourns when I mourn.  He sees me still, and He sees A.  He will scoop her up in His arms and somehow, through all the turmoil and pain, surround her with His presence and His peace.  I pray He will raise her above her circumstances and above her surroundings to a place where she sees hope and purpose for her pain.  I pray she always knows she's loved, and she can always count on me to remind her of that.

So, what's next for me?  I'm just really not sure.  I feel certain I'll foster again.  I need time, though.  I need to decompress and reevaluate.  I am not confident in our system or our laws; they are so broken. I don't want to experience the utter sadness I have this week ever again.  However, I believed when making my decision to foster that God would equip me to handle whatever came my way.  I still believe that, and I know He will come through if/when I go for round two.  He will provide.  He always has and He always will.  And, it's not about me; it's about carrying out the scripture.  God says pure religion is caring for these kids.  He says He will come to them, and He does that through us, friends.   There.is.nothing.special about me.  God used my pain of singleness and the desire to have a family to bring me to this path in life.  He uses our experiences to accomplish His plan.  He may be doing that for you, too.  If you've ever felt the desire, or even the curiosity to foster, take the next step!  There are children that need to know true love and security, and God may want to teach them that through YOU!

Feel free to message me on Facebook (or call or text if you have my number) if you have any questions.  I am more than happy to help in any way.

James 1:27