Living a Joyful Journey

The Walls of My Heart

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I remember a conversation with a dear friend shortly after we started fostering. She asked me if I found myself putting up walls around my heart until we knew we get to keep the child forever. I immediately replied, “No. You just can’t. After you been up with them all night, lying beside their crib with an arm sticking through the side of the crib to keep your hand on their back because that’s the only way you can sleep. When you’ve rocked them to sleep and poured out your heart to God in prayer for this child. When you can’t leave the room because they scream in fear that they can’t see you. You just can’t put up a wall.”

Almost 2 years have gone by and we’ve had 11 kids come into our hearts and lives for a time since that conversation with my friend. If she were to ask me that same question today, my answer would be a little different.

“I don’t want to put walls around my heart, but it’s a real struggle not to. It’s selfish I know, but it hurts so much when they leave and not knowing where they are at or how they are doing is almost unbearable. It’s a moment by moment struggle to keep new walls from rising, to stop the ones already there from growing, and to tear them down. But I’m trying really hard to give them my whole heart.”

Grieving a loss is hard work and so painful. We are walking through this currently as a family; some days are good, and other days emotions are high and you can almost touch the pain surrounding us. It’s a process. As foster parents, this process is often compounded by the fact that we have another kiddo in our home. The pain we feel for the one that just left our home is also staring us in the face from within our home, as we fully recognize we could have to go through all over again if this precious baby leaves us too. So here come the walls, because the pain we feel now is one we don’t want to feel again, ever.

So how and why do we do it??? Somedays I seriously ponder this question and desperately want to just walk away. Yes, I know that sounds horrible and you’re probably judging me just a little, wondering how I could walk away from the most precious baby ever. Well, that precious baby girl is exactly what keeps us going.

Every time I’m in a mood where I want to quit or even the circumstances of her case are driving me insane, it never fails that one look upon her face moves me with compassion for her. Lately, Jesus words (He was moved with compassion for them”) speak to my heart so frequently as I try to navigate the hurt my own loss while I’m the primary caregiver of a small child who is trying to navigate her own loss. I’m so thankful for these words as they often come when Little Miss is having a moment of her own and I can’t figure out how to calm her and I’m starting to lose it myself. Not only do these words stir my heart, but they move me to compassion for her. They soften my demeanor and attitude. They keep the walls from rising and they send others crashing to the ground.

The other thing I’ve noticed that directly correlates to building and tearing down of these walls around my heart is prayer. I think we could all agree that this correlation can be applied to our lives in general. The more I pray for my foster kid, the walls get shorter and fewer. Whereas the less I pray for them, the bigger and stronger the walls get. I find this to be true with just about anything in my life. The things we need to pray about most for the sake of our own hearts, are the things that are often the hardest for us to pray about.

Today’s challenge is two-fold:

  1. Pray for a foster family you know personally. Pray for the walls of their hearts to come crashing down. Pray for them and their greif over the kids that are no longer in their home.
  2. This one’s going to get you: pray over that “thing” in your own life that you’ve been avoiding in your own prayer life. Ask God to begin tearing down the walls you’ve build about that “thing”.

Life is like …. a Roller Coaster Ride!

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I love roller coaster rides!!! The safe ones, anyways. Not the traveling ones at the fair. The huge permanent ones at amusement parks. I’m not really sure why I like them, but I do.

I’m not a fan of heights or water or feeling like I’m going fall off a cliff or going so fast I can’t pull my head away from the headrest or worst of all, not being in control. A roller coaster is all of those things wrapped up into an exhilarating few minutes.

The excitement and anxiousness that builds as you wait in line to get on the ride. The inability to sit still once you’re in your seat and buckled in before the ride starts. The urge to giggle as the ride starts inching forward because you’re so nervous for what’s coming up ahead. Then there’s that first giant climb – it’s slow, sometimes painfully slow, the ground gets further beneath you. Now you get a little scared and you start to press back into your seat and maybe grip the bars next to or in front of you. Now you’re at the top and you know you’re going to take off, plummeting to ground. I’m pretty sure I have a look of sheer terror on my face at this moment, but it’s only for an instant. And then, the roller coaster takes off and you can’t help but yell out in fear, excitement, freedom, and joy! Next you hit the bottom and all the turns and twists start coming faster than you like, but you hang on for dear life and know it’ll all be over soon. As the ride comes to an end, your heart is pumping, you can finally breathe, but you realize it’s over and you’re a little sad because as terrifying as those moments were, the other moments were pure joy.

Being a foster parent is a lot like riding that roller coaster. The main difference would be that instead of the riding lasting only a few minutes, it lasts days, months, or years depending on the case. One thing is certain: there are mountains that build anticipation as you climb and create terror and joy as come down; there are twists and turns where you’re literally hanging on for dear life; you are 90% out of control of what’s going on; and no matter how it ends, there will be tears of sorrow and laughs of joy.

To be honest, it’s exhausting: mentally, physically, emotionally (especially), and spiritually. It’s work to stay on this roller coaster. Somedays it feels like the seatbelt failed, the roller coaster is stuck inverted at the top of a loop, and your hands are starting to slip.

So how do we hang on? How do we push through to get to the next moment of joy?

For me, it’s two things: 1. believing and having faith and 2. others that come alongside us and share in our burdens.

When I’m in one of those moments where I’m completely exhausted, questioning why we are doing this, and wanting to just let go and jump down off the stranded roller coaster car; I’m thankful in these moments that God has drawn me closer to Him, given me a desire to get to know Him, that I love Him. His word is written in my heart, and I believe His promises to me. My belief in who God is and that He loves me more than I could ever love Him breeds faith. Faith that God is there with me, my safety net if my hands did slip, that His plan for this child is being played out and He wants me to be a part of it. It’s not easy, and there are many moments and days where it feels like He’s not there and the safety net is gone. But then the sun changes in the sky and I see a glimmer of it’s rays hitting the net. He’s there. Always there!

We have an amazing support system and I’m so very thankful for each and everyone of them!! Each person in our “tribe” plays a different role in supporting us from buying clothes for the kids, bringing us a meal, handing down clothes for the kids, watching the kids for a few hours, being an ear for me to vent to, but most importantly, those who faithfully pray for us!!! It seriously brings me to tears thinking of all the people that I know that pray for us constantly!! Hear me when I say this: There is NO way we could stay on this roller coaster without these prayers!!!!

I’ll leave you with this today:

“Blessings multiplied and burdens divided.”

Sara Kerns

“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”

Galatians 6:2

“I Could Never Do That”

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“I could never do that.”

When people learn I’m a foster parent, they will usually end up saying “I could never do that.” I never know what to say.

If I’m honest with myself, that very phrase was an excuse I used for several years to keep my heart closed to the idea of being a foster parent.

I’ve experienced the hurt and pain of losing eight children within my womb. That is a pain and hurt that never goes away. And when we decided to be done trying to have another biological child, I never wanted to have another loss of a child. So we pursued private adoption.

In two years of being with our adoption agency, we were never matched with an expectant mom, and to be honest I’m not sure we even got close to being matched. But in those two years, God began to soften this hard heart and press in deep the idea of being a foster parent. Proof he knows me intimately: he pressed gradually and consistently; that is the only way this lady was going to go that route.

I remember the very first meeting we had with the Navigator for CYFD, and how I said to her that I just didn’t think I would ever be able to love a child as my own and then let them leave. I thought it would feel the same as having a miscarriage/stillborn.

Here we are, 18 months into our fostering journey and we’ve loved eight babies that we’ve had to say good bye to. (In case you’re wondering, the weight of that number fully hit me as I typed it and correlated it to the eight we’ve lost through miscarriage.) Some were in our home only a few days, while others were here for over a year.

Saying good bye is so very hard! And while it’s a loss to our WHOLE family, there is still hope and surprisingly the hurt isn’t quite so deep. It’s not because they aren’t biologically ours. It’s because these kids still have life and a future ahead of them!

Photo Credit: Casey Cometti

When someone tells me, “I could never do that” here’s what I want to say:

           “Yes you can!!! We CAN do lots of things, things we don’t want to do, things we never thought we would have the capacity to do. The only difference between me and you is I am in the game and you’re on the sideline trying to “play” my position. Plus, where’s that verse everyone likes to pull out in tough times? You know Philippians 4:13 I can do ALL things through Christ Jesus who strengthens me. Are saying that verse doesn’t apply to you but does apply to me in this situation I’m currently living out? No way, He would help you through it just like he is helping me and my family!!! YOU CAN DO IT!!!!! It’s not easy and NO ONE wants to do it, but guess what YOU CAN!!”

So that’s really what I want to say to people, but I usually just stand there smiling.

The other thing that I think about loving a child and then letting them go, is that it’s a growing time for me and my family. I believe with all my heart that God has a purpose in EVERYTHING. I don’t always know what it is and may never know, but I do know that something good will come out of it all at some point. And because of that, I chose to see each situation, trial, test, whatever you want to call it as a chance for me to grow and become a little more like Christ, because that is our goal right?! I believe we are being refined in these moments. We are learning to love unconditionally, without expectation. That is a SCARY thing for this control-freak.

Another way to look at how we are able to let a child leave, is to think about something you personally have been through in your life that was very difficult (cancer, chronic illness, loss of a parent, addiction, etc.). I could easily say to you “I could never do that.” But what I really mean is, I don’t ever want to have to go through that, and I don’t even want to think about having to go through that. But could I go through it and come out on the other side a strong person??? Yes I can and I will if and when God chooses to use those things to refine me.

The difference between being refined through being a foster parent and being refined through things like cancer, loss of a parent, addiction, etc??? Foster parents willing chose to let God refine them through that means. I do NOT say that to place foster parents on a pedestal or infer that foster parents are better than anyone else. I simply say that as a challenge to anyone who’s heart is being gently pressed and softened toward becoming a foster parent.

If you have said this to me, please know I was not offended or hurt because I understand where your heart is in saying it. This post is just my thoughts on the topic and will hopefully challenge us all to live our lives with a greater faith and love each other a little deeper.

Two Pink Lines

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Two pink lines.

They change lives and drum up a mix of emotions: fear, excitement, joy, anxiety. No matter if the lines are expected and welcomed or completely unplanned and maybe even unwanted, the mix of emotions come in the anticipation and in those first few moments after the lines appear.

For some parents, it’s not two pink lines, but a phone call that brings this same storm of emotions. Only difference is, we don’t get nine months to prepare, hope, dream, and plan. We get nine minutes or what feels like nine seconds to say yes or no, but no matter what the answer, our life has been changed. And it’s not just one phone call that is life changing.

First, there’s the phone call from the agency or CYFD thanking you for your inquiry into fostering and/or adopting. I know this doesn’t seem like it would be life changing, but this phone call is validation that this thing, this REALLY big thing you and your family have talking about, praying about, for quite some time is now “public”. Someone else knows and they’re just excited about it as you are.

Then there’s phone call saying you’ve been approved to be LICENSED as a foster/adoptive family. Yep, there’s a whole ginormous process that your family has to go through to get a LICENSE, they really do give you a piece of paper and a card to carry in your wallet, saying you are fit to foster/adopt children. This phone call is proof that even though your life and your family are far from perfect, the state feels the good outweighs the bad and chances are you will be good parents. No matter what they say, you can’t help but feel that you are being judged. Your whole life aired out for some stranger to review and determine if you’re still a stable human being capable of raising and influencing tiny humans. This call. It’s a big deal!!

If you’re with a private agency waiting to adopt, you’ll probably get several calls letting you know there’s a mom who is reviewing your profile book. And then at some point, there’s a follow up call to let you know if the mom chose your family to raise her child. The first call I think can be likened to that moment when you’re trying to conceive a child and the day comes and you’re “late.” The hope and excitement of the possibility is overwhelming, and even though you know there might not be a baby, you can’t help but let yourself think of a future with a baby. Then there’s the waiting and the not knowing. Then instead of taking a pregnancy test, we get a phone call. Just as you go through the anxiety of waiting for the test to read and show your results, we get it too as soon as the phone rings and until they deliver the news. Two pink lines: overjoyed. One pink line: crushed and heartbroken. It’s the same for us with the phone call. Mom picked our family: overjoyed! Mom didn’t pick our family: crushed and heartbroken. Both are life changing. Though seemingly similar, there’s a difference: for the adoptive family they are now fully aware of baby that was conceived. Some will get to raise that child and will watch God’s plan for that child unfold before their eyes. But what about all those where we weren’t picked?? You see those are the most life changing because we will never know what becomes of their life. Some of these children may never even be born and given the chance at life because their mom will make the choice to have an abortion. Some children will be parented by their mom. Others will be adopted by another family. Each one is a hope and a dream to that adoptive family that got a call, no matter the outcome. That child, touched the very soul of that adoptive family; that is life changing.

Being a foster parent is very similar, only difference is we make the choice to say yes or no. The call comes, sometimes in the early morning hours when your dead asleep, sometimes in the late afternoon when you’ve had a crazy busy day and you are exhausted. The call has minimal information about this child, and a lot of times the information turns out to be completely inaccurate. They’re just doing the best they can in the limited amount of time they’ve had to investigate the situation. There’s always a question: Can you take this child?? With limited information and in a time crunch, we have to make a decision. No matter what, this call has changed our life, because like I’ve already said, it’s a child in need and that touches the soul. So you make the decision; no we can’t take this child right now. Even though you know without a doubt it was the right answer, we just can’t stop thinking about this kid: they changed our lives even though we never met them. But other times, you say yes! There’s SO many emotions: fear, anxiety, excitement, hope, anger, joy, etc. For many who hope to adopt, there’s hope that maybe this will be the one, but there’s also fear that your heart just might be broken in the end because they will go back home. Then you see that little face, and none of it matters; they need you and truth be told, you need them too.

It’s just a phone call.

Each phone call is a child. Each child has a need. That child in need, changes our lives. It doesn’t matter that I’ve never met many of the children I was called about, I can tell you about them because they truly touched my soul and even if for just a few minutes, they were my child.

The greatest impact these children have had on my life, has been the grip they hold on my heart even over time. I believe the Lord brings these children to mind every now and again so that I will pray for them. I do my best to be obedient and pray any time he brings a child from one these many calls to my mind. This is why it’s not just a phone call. Because once you know, you can’t let go. I count it an honor and a privilege to receive every phone call I do, because I know I can give that child my best gift: prayer.

It’s said all the time, being an adoptive and/or foster parent is a ministry and a calling. This is one of the many reasons why.