An empty bedroom.

Blame it on the weather, blame it on post sickness, blame it on just life but tonight you are getting me raw & transparent, broken & tired.  

Nothing about these last several months seems 'fair'.   Nothing seems easy and tonight is one of those nights where I feel defeated, weary and just frustrated with life.  

I'm tired & worn.   I look at my life tonight and wonder why some have it so easy and everything seems to fall into place for them and why I am sitting here tonight with a heart full of prayer requests for loved ones fighting big battles, a job that I love yet physically and emotionally drains me, a son that pushes me to my limits one minute and the next melts my heart, but most of all tonight I struggle with an empty bedroom waiting to be filled.  

13 months ago, God called me out of my comfort zone and started opening my heart towards the "orphans".    For those of you who know me, this was a huge and a constant battle.   For 3 months I sat in classes once a week questioning each week whether or not I was capable of becoming a foster mom. As classes neared the end, I told my husband one evening on our walk home that I couldn't do it.  I couldn't be a foster parent.  I wasn't strong enough.   Being the patient and logical guy he is, he told me just to take it one day at a time and see where God will lead us.

Just a few short weeks later we got our first phone call and our first friend came to live with us.   We loved on them for ten weeks and then they were sent home.    Eight long weeks went by and we got another call this time for a couple more friends.   Anxious, crazy, you name it but we took them on with great excitement.  With a husband out of town, a birthday that I think happened and a whole lot of chaos our house felt complete again and then once again, our friends were sent on.  

Confession & side note:   I love the feeling of having a full mini van.  I love loading it up at 7am and pulling out of the driveway for school seeing the back filled with little ones.   There is something about it that makes my heart feel full.

So tonight I sit here in my house and it feels lonely and empty just being a family of 3.

My biggest fear throughout the foster parenting classes were all of the phone calls we were prepared to get and having to turn down the multiple placements, little did I know that our biggest battle would be just waiting for a phone call.   My heart has changed so much in the last several months and it longs to have a house filled with little ones needing to be loved and cared for.   I long to see that empty bedroom of ours filled with little clothes and shoes and toys.

My heart hurts.  

So this is where my transparency tonight comes into play as I sit here typing this and pleading for your prayers.    Prayers for the loved ones in my life right now fighting some pretty big battles.  Prayers for our sweet family as we figure out where our church home is supposed to be.   Prayers for our son  to be successful and obedient in school and at home.  Prayers for me that when my alarm goes off each morning at 5:15am that I will get out of bed and get right into God's word, and most of all pray for that little one that we long to love on and care for, the little life we hope to bless with our empty bedroom.  

Lord use us.    Fill our home with laughter and love and good health.   Bless us Lord as we long to bless others.  

It's been 3 weeks.

It was a Friday and a beautiful one at that.    The kids at school had been perfect and by 4pm that familiar pit in my stomach felt that it was safe to say that our little friend was here to stay with our family at least through the weekend.   After rushing out the door from school, picking my little man up from his school and heading to daycare to pick our friend up, we headed home chipper and happy, more relaxed than we had been in weeks.    Dave hurried home from work and we readied ourselves for a night of swimming, dinner out and a movie in the park.      I was determined to focus on my family and left my much too precious iPhone on the kitchen counter in order to not be tempted to play on it.   This was a weekend of family fun.

5pm.  We loaded up in the car with the music blaring and headed out for a swim on that hot summer day.    1 mile down the road, Dave's phone rang.   I glanced down and my stomach dropped.   Our caseworker was calling us at 5:05 on a Friday night.   Something was not right.    Dave quickly answered and the next few minutes were a blur.

"I tried calling Amy's phone but she didn't answer."

"The Judge just called…"

"(friend) is going home…"

"I have to come get her immediately."

"I'm so sorry."

Silence.  Shock.  Heartache.  

My sweet boy laughing in the backseat talking to our friend.  My heart desperately ached at the thought of what I was about to tell him.   He sobbed.   Not little tears, big ones.   He didn't understand.    Every emotion running through our bodies.   We hurried home and changed.    I sent a text to my dear friend that said "(friend) is going back to mom tonight.  I need you.".   I hurried through the house packing up what little bit hadn't already been packed.   I did everything I could to avoid holding our sweet and precious friend.  I couldn't do it.  I could not do it.    I was avoiding the goodbye and wanting to pretend this had never happened but I couldn't and alas I gave in.    I quickly picked up our sweet friend from Dave's arms, sat down on the living room floor and surrounded myself with my sweet family and there we sat and prayed.    We prayed for our friend.  We prayed for her continued healing.  We prayed for her return home.   We prayed for her safety.   We prayed for her future.   I listened to my precious boy pray his heart out like he had never prayed before.   We wept.    We held onto each other, the four of us and enjoyed the last few minutes of our time together as a foster family of 4.

Our friends arrived and loved on us, encouraged us, listened to us vent and cry.  The caseworker pulled up and we watched our friend load up our sweet little foster baby's belongings as we walked her to the car.   We kissed her one last time and I couldn't help but get one last smell of her precious baby scent and then I did the hardest thing ever and I handed this sweet baby over to the caseworker and said goodbye.

The next morning we packed up everything baby.    Our friend would never be forgotten but seeing her favorite toys around became too painful.   Emotions were raw, hearts were broken and we knew that we were in no shape to make any sort of decision about what to do with her sweet room that was in the works of becoming our "foster friends'" room.    So I said goodbye to her beautiful baby girl bedding

and hello to a new possibility.    A second chance to love another child and be the home that the need for us to be.   By the way, we were incredibly blessed with two bedding sets and how many mom's get the opportunity to redecorate a room in just a matter of an hour?  

I should clarify that while we knew that our little friend would never be an adoption case, nor was she ours to keep, we never imagined she would leave so soon and so abruptly.   While I mentally tried to prepare myself for weeks for that goodbye I don't think anything can ever prepare you for that phone call on a Friday night.  

 I won't lie, the first week was horrible.   I held my emotions in for a few days until I physically couldn't do it any longer and I wept and wept.    Our family went and saw our beloved counselor a few days after.   I think every family should have a counselor.   They are wonderful.   He told me not to hide my emotions from my son.  He told me that we were not stupid for opening our hearts and our home to take care of another mother's child.   He told me it was okay for me to be bitter and angry.   He told us what an amazing family we were when we felt like we had failed.   He told us that what we did for this little girl was priceless and would never be forgotten even though we felt so raw from the broken hearts she had left us with.    It was that night leaving his office that I knew we hit the bottom, we allowed ourselves to grieve and would allow ourselves to finish off the grieving process but it was also time to refocus and make decisions.    It was time to go on with life.  

So it's been 3 weeks.    We still pray for our friend every night.   We leave her picture on our fridge and laugh about her nicknames (Pork Chop was my personal favorite).    We sometimes wonder what she is doing and how she is feeling.    It hurts me to say I can no longer remember her baby scent that became so familiar and calming to me.   I still miss her.    Today on her 3 week anniversary of leaving us I finally gathered the strength to go back to the DFS office and pick up her carseat that she left our house in.    Honestly, I'd been avoiding it.  I had friends offer to go by and get it but I just couldn't bear to bring that seat home.   There was something dumb about seeing that carseat that made my heart hurt more for my friend.   Seeing that silly seat brought down the hallway towards us brought tears to both my son's and mine eyes.   I put it in the back of the van and we drove off in a brief moment of silence.   I asked him if he missed her still and he said "a lot".  I told him I did too and we talked about our friend but today was different.    Today I had closure and today I felt stronger.   Our friend will never be forgotten in our home but there is a small amount of pride in my heart knowing that we survived our first go around as foster parents.  

My heart feels healed and ready to begin this adventure again.   Am I crazy?  Probably.   I pray each morning on my way to school for that little life out there waiting to come to our home.   I pray that God blesses us abundantly through that life and that we in return can bless that life abundantly.   So now we wait.  We continue on with life as a family of 3 and pray that in God's perfect timing this bed can bless another child's life.  

We wait, we pray, we trust, we will obey.   

Life lesson 101: What not to say to a foster parent.

In the last few months my husband and I became foster parents.

NOTHING can prepare you for this cRaZy roller coaster.

Nothing.

We knew foster parenting would come with all sorts of challenges, particularly those in the social world.    No matter how much you prepare yourself for those hurdles, they still strike a nerve every single time we experience them.    Please don't take this post as a request to stop talking to us during the duration of our fostering adventure, but more of a heads up as to how words come across to us in sensitive situations.   Know that as I write this, I find ways to giggle and am sharing very personal and real experiences that have happened to myself or my husband.  

Here goes…

WHAT NOT TO SAY TO A FOSTER PARENT:

1.  I could never do it.   I get too attached.

What we think when you say this:   So, I apparently at some point in our lifetime have come across to you as a heartless, cold person who takes kids in for the fun of it and ships them out the minute they can go home without a tear in my eye.  You apparently think it is all about the money for me.

2.  You know that when "johnny" goes home, you are going to be heartbroken.

My thoughts:   The thought of loving on a child for several months like they were one of my own, having them treat me like I am their own mother, and then having to give them back, knowing I will probably never see them again, hadn't occurred to me as being painful.   Yes I know this is painful!  Are you kidding me?   I didn't sign up for foster parenting to be blessed, rather than to bless.   I pray daily for this child and cry at the thought of saying goodbye to them.   

3.  Oh "johnny" will be so much better off when they get to return home to their bio family.  I hate it that they are having to be in foster care.

Where do I go with this?   Yes, this really did happen to me on more than one occasion.  

My thoughts:  Wow!   Just wow!  Honestly, it always makes me speechless and then as I drive off I think to myself "Johnny is thriving.  Johnny is healthy and growing.   I've given my life for this child, just as I have done for my own biological child.   I've done nothing but love on this little one and it shows.   Those close to us comment all of the time about how well Johnny looks and how Johnny is growing".   Are we not aiming towards reunification some day?  Absolutely!  But don't discount the love, emotions and time that I have poured into taking care of this little one like they were my own.

4.  You get paid to do this right?

Thoughts:   After the laughing subsides………Rumor is that yes, we get a monthly maintenance fee.  Have we seen that fee yet?  Not really.    And I'm pretty sure it isn't much that we get paid.   Again, didn't sign up for this for the money, it's about sharing the blessings with another child.   

5.  So do you know how long you are going to have Johnny? 

Me:  Not a clue.   Nadda, no, nein, no way, no how, not even the simplest idea.  

6.  So why is Johnny in foster care?   If you can't say I understand and promise to not say anything.

Me:  Hmm, triple dog promise?   Just kidding!   No I can't tell you about the case nor do I want to talk about Johnny's case.   My goal is to love and provide a home for Johnny for the time he is in my care and not focus on why he is in my care to start with.

7.  Are you going to get to adopt Johnny?

Me:  see #5



I know there is more than this and honestly if I wasn't so sleep deprived and exhausted from the countless visits, dr. appointments and just life in general I'm sure I could think up a whole book of things to never say to a foster parent.     As a foster parent, this is what we need to hear from you:

* You can do this!  While it won't be easy, God is in control and will get you through this journey.
* This child is blessed to have you.  

That's it.   We just need to be encouraged.   It's okay if you walk away thinking we are crazy because quite honestly, we probably are.   But encourage us.   Cheer us on and remind us that we were brought to this adventure for a reason.     That's all we ask.  :)  

And forgive me for the grammatical errors.   Again, exhaustion is the new form of breathing around here.

A new kind of normal.

For two years, my husband and I have prayed about becoming foster parents.   In January, we took the plunge and committed to classes and as crazy as it sounds, I was terrified the moment I walked through the door that first night.   I knew my comfy, quiet life would never be the same.   I knew it was about to become a new kind of normal.

Fast forward to June 4, 2014.    It was a beautiful day and I was enjoying a visit at my parents.  School was out, life was good and then the phone rang.    It was a phone call I will never forget.    Anxiety, uncertainty, excitement, jitters, you name it, I was feeling it.    We were about to begin one of the most painful journies of our lives.  A little over a week later, we sat anxiously in our living room awaiting the arrival of our DFS worker.  We prayed, we paced and in just a short time a precious little life was placed in our lives and all of those feelings of uncertainty went out the door and our hearts fell in love with this tiny little life.  

The next three weeks were a blur.   Maybe it was the sleepless nights, maybe the feelings of inadequacy to be the mom my son needed and be the comfort this little life was needing to rebuild their trust, to find a calm after a brutal storm.    I broke down, I cried, I longed for the days of normal that we so recently had enjoyed.    That breakdown was just what I needed as I rocked this little life to sleep one night and stared this precious babe in the eyes.    I knew then, it wasn't about me anymore, it was about them.   This child needed me to love them, hold them, comfort them.    They found their security in me. What an amazing honor to know this little life needed me.

Shortly after my meltdown, being a family of 4 became normal.   Taking evening walks, trips to the store and even a short adventure to the zoo became life.    We laughed, we played, we fell in love with this precious child.    And even though we know this little life is not our own, they certainly became just another piece to our crazy family equation.   Just when things started to feel comfortable, God reminded us once again, we were not in control as we learned that this little life was not ours and would most likely be leaving us soon.   And.that.hurts.   We've been stretched, we've been molded and not without pain, tears, anger and fear.  

I laid in bed last night listening to this sweet child breath and I began to cry.   Those tears turned into weeping and before I knew it, my pillow was soaked, my heart broken trying to picture what it will be like to say goodbye to this life.   This baby that looks at me like I'm their mom.   This precious life that has stolen my heart, and the hearts of my family.    By morning, those tears turned into anger and while driving to church this Sunday morning I told God I was done Foster Parenting.   After this little life was sent home I was throwing in the towel.  "I can't do this anymore" I told my husband.   "It's not me.  I'm not cut out for it."  My body is broke out in hives, and my heart is broken.   You can't expect me to take a child in and watch them fall in love with me, while I fall in love with them only to have to say goodbye.    I'm done.   As we pulled into the church parking lot, we both sat in a silent agreement.   We gathered the little ones and walked in, sat down in the pew and then this played.

I wept.   I wept like never before.   My husband wept and we sat their broken hearted knowing that this was not about us.   This was about being obedient and following God's commandment to love his children, to take in the orphans.    This job that God called us to do is painful, it hurts more than any other thing I've ever done.    I feel weak and weary.   Just when I think I can cry no more, the tears begin again and all I can do is sit and love on this little child like they are my own and deal with the heart ache when it is time for us to say goodbye.   Oh how I dread that day.    But I thank God for choosing me to be the light in this little child's life and I know my strength will come from those around me when it's time to let go and know that this tiny babe is in God's hands.    

Prayer.   Prayer friends.   We need your prayers.   Prayers for strength and peace.   Prayers for encouragement in the midst of sadness.   Prayers for hopeful hearts that this little life will grow up to be something amazing and that they will one day allow Jesus to come into their heart.   Prayers that we can be that sweet child's miracle.  

Prayers that God willing, we be able to work up the courage to begin this crazy adventure all over again when His timing is right.   

After all, it's a new kind of normal around here.    

Pulling the plug.

I have a love-hate relationship with Facebook.   I love it because it helps pass time when I'm bored or don't feel like doing something.  I hate it because well, it takes up my time and honestly sometimes just leaves me feeling aggravated, discouraged or unsettled.  

Over the last three weeks I've challenged myself to just not scroll through my newsfeed.  I deleted the icon off of my phone and I have limited my time on the page.   The results?  Well, it's hard to say but I feel better.  Instead of sitting on the computer at night scrolling through pages and pages of statuses, reading articles that do very little for anyone,  I'm focusing more time on me, my family, and most importantly, my relationship with Christ.  

As pathetic as it sounds, it has been a tough decision.  I love, love, love seeing pics of your families, hearing about the exciting things going on in your lives and just feeling like I'm a part of your life in general.  

My prayer is that somehow through this crazy thing we called technology, I can keep in touch with so many of you through email, this crazy blog, etc.   And who knows, maybe one day I will return with more self control!  

So that is my reason for pulling the plug on Facebook.  Once again…

It's not you…it's me.  ;)