The Face of Fostering

Her beautiful little face looked up at me for the first time, and my only thought was, hello little lady, how am I ever going to be able to say goodbye?

You see, she doesn’t belong to me. I’m her caretaker, for now, I’m her guardian, for the time being...I’m not her real mom. I’m her foster mom. It doesn’t roll off the tongue easily, it feels awkward to say it out loud. “Foster mom.” A new title to add to my menagerie of names, and most likely the most painful one.

Everything that I do for her will have lasting impact on who she becomes. The snuggles, the around the clock feedings, the baths, the one-sided conversations...for her, these have meaning and worth because they speak love into her...a love that she is otherwise bereft of.

And all of these things I do for her create a bond between us that, for me, hurts as much as it heals. I want to love her with my whole heart, because she deserves it. I want to hold back that love because I want to protect myself from a broken heart.

What a dichotomy of emotions always surging through my mind when I look at this beautiful little person that was thrust into our lives so unexpectedly and yet so wonderfully.

When we said we would foster, I thought I knew what to expect, but I really didn’t understand or know. I thought I would be strong because I’ve been through a lot in my life, and I’ve said painful goodbyes before, but the reality is that I’m not as strong as I pretend to be. I hate goodbyes. I’m terrible at letting go.

But for her sake, I’m going to take every moment of every day to cherish her. Every day will begin with the most beautiful hello. And if that day comes, and it most likely will, when I have to say goodbye, yes, it’s going to break me. It’s going to crush me. But I’m going to be able to hold onto those moments I was given with her, to love her and leave an imprint on her tiny life. It’s a blessing and a privilege to be her foster mom.

Hello, little lady. Let’s seize today, and make some memories.

#ThisIsFostering

Sunday Reflections

    I used to approach Sunday with an “oh gosh, my weekend is over and I have to face another crazy week” mindset. I’ve always had the tendency to settle into what I like to call a “Martha mentality”: No, I don’t have time to sit at the feet of Jesus, I’m busy over here juggling everything else, and resenting every minute of it.

Over time I’ve realized what a waste of a day I was making of Sunday’s. Spending my whole day stressed about a new week and how much I still had to get done to prepare for it. Sure, it’s challenging to be a mom of five, to teach them from home, to juggle work and housework, etc. We are all there! But my type A personality has taken a little bit of a beating through the years, as I’ve come to realize, there is ALWAYS going to be a list of things I need to complete. I will never truly get it all done. So what? I have to throw my hands up a little and think about what really matters. My to-do list is important, but not if I’m in a constant state of anxiety over it. First, what will help me face this week? A quiet moment, a good worship song, time spent first with my God and second with my family.

The list can wait. Eventually, it will get done...or at least most of it. But at the end of the day, God doesn’t care if I’ve finished the laundry or organized the school room or planned the week out to every detail. He just wants me. And so does my husband. And so do my kids.

Take a breath. Take a moment. Stop and look around. The most important “things” I can do today are to focus on my loved ones and to focus on recharging. I am always going to tend towards a Martha. But as my life seems to speed by, and the kids get bigger every day, I’m beginning to see what value there is in being like Mary. Truly, sitting at the feet of Jesus is where I can find the only true rest and strength to face the week.

Seeing the Hand of God

 It’s hard to see God’s hand in everything. Through the good times, through the bad times, through those times of silence or waiting. Is He really there through it all? Every morning my kids and I have been going through a devotional series that essentially walks us through every major event in Biblical history, recalling and recounting the stories of some of our favorite heroes of the Faith: Joseph, Abraham, Noah...the list goes on.

All of these men of faith had very different stories, but there is a very clear and common theme that runs through them all: that God had a plan for each of them, even through years of barrenness, or of waiting in the desert, or through years of being misunderstood and even imprisoned...through those hard years or the years of waiting...God was working out His greater plan. And eventually all of these men would see that powerful plan play out. I know we all have these seasons.

This year especially many of you have been challenged, beaten down, you’ve experienced real loss of loved ones or the loss of jobs. It gets confusing when things feel like they are spinning out of control. My reminder to you today is that God is still on His throne. He knows. He’s there. If you can’t see the way, ask Him to show you. If you’re having a hard time trusting right now, ask Him for faith. Reach out to friends and ask for prayer. It’s normal to feel lost sometimes. It’s normal to question when things aren’t going the way you thought they would.

Take a deep breath and understand that your God will be faithful to you the same way He was faithful to those saints of old. Let their stories encourage your heart today, my friend. Look around, and see His hand in everything. “Now Faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see.”

God Is Enough

"When we have nothing left but God, we discover that God is enough."

Have you ever come to that place, hit rock-bottom, lost everything and everyone, if not physically, at least emotionally? Well, I have.

And yes, I bet most of you have too at some point in your lives. This moment for me was several years ago, after I had pushed God out of my life for literally YEARS and I had pushed my friends and even my husband away to the point that I was willing to walk out on everyone I cared about. I wanted to quit. Quit everything. I felt completely alone.

But then a beautiful thing happened. In that deepest, darkest hole I had created for myself, I found God. I found Him in the most real, genuine, “I’m all in forever” kind of way. Because having been stripped of everything I had ever used as an excuse to sideline my Heavenly Father, I was finally able to face my issues with Him, have a heart-to-heart, and then, finally let them go. I was finally faced with the fact that even if I lost everything, He was enough. He would always be enough.

Are you looking to those around you to fulfill those deepest spiritual needs? Are you expecting too much from your family, your husband, your friends, because you aren’t first and foremost seeking that fulfillment in Christ? Trust me, I’ve been there and I get it. Put it all aside and meet with your Savior. Not tomorrow, or next week. Today. He is all you need right now. He is all you need forever

God's Plan Amidst Daily Circumstances

I struggle so much sometimes to see God’s bigger plan amidst the daily struggles of being a mom, a wife, a friend, a boss, a teacher, or whatever other hats I’m juggling to wear that day.

Can you relate?

Does your current day or your current circumstance sometimes weigh heavy like a bad mood that you just can’t seem to shake? Does it make you feel trapped or insignificant? Like somehow the overwhelming small moments that make up each day have managed to snuff out your joy and your purpose?

I have been struggling with this feeling A LOT lately my friends, I’m just being honest. It’s so hard to focus, to ground myself in the Lord, and to seek His direction and His guidance amidst the daily storm of challenges and tasks I face each day.

And then I ask myself, “Why?!!” Why is it so hard to seek that which is the most important...the strength and purpose of my Heavenly Father, the daily guidance of the One, the only One, who has set my path and numbered my days.

It’s hard because I’ve made it hard. Somehow I’ve trained myself to deal with every other issue and put out every other fire first before I spend time with MY Father, My Redeemer, the One who has a plan for my life, the One who speaks wisdom and love and encouragement to my soul.

When I feel lost, confused, and discouraged about where my life is leading and how it really matters in the whole scheme of things, I can turn in one direction...towards Jesus. He is the author of my life. He is the author of yours. He has a plan, and yes, it’s a big one, and yes somehow YOUR LIFE matters in a HUGE way towards carrying out this plan.

So if you’re feeling lost and confused about where you fit into everything, or how, or why, let me ask you this:

Today, and every day, are you making the choice to seek God’s will, to trust His guidance, and to find joy in knowing that you are deeply loved, desired, and needed to complete His perfect plan?

You are beautifully and wonderfully made. Believe it, accept it, embrace it, and use it.

Finding Perspective

I thought I was doing just fine, but then this gray and gloomy morning it hit me: we could be here for a very long time. This first week of "quarantine" has been nice in many ways. Family walks, serene runs, homemade play-doh and cookie making...we have suddenly been thrust into the "simple life" I'm always talking to my husband about. The simple life I always wish for when things get hectic and stressful. But today the "simple life" feels forced, mandatory, paramount. Today, it makes me feel trapped. A "mandatory quarantine" forcing us all to stay home because of eminent danger presented by a dangerous virus is far from my ideal of a "simple life." Those of you who know me well understand that I like control. I like to be the boss, and I definitely don't like ultimatums or strict guidelines. I don't like to feel put in a box, I don't like feeling trapped. If you want to really scare me, stick me in an elevator or a closet. I would bungee jump off the top of a building before I would climb into any small space.

So today, this new "way of life" stuck at home is starting to make me feel claustrophobic, trapped, like the walls are closing in, and I've lost all control of the situation. The anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach and the tight feeling in my throat indicate the rising stress of what's occurring. So yes, today it hit me. I don't like any of this and I'm not in control.

Anyone else?

Sitting here, feeling lost and stuck, I'm realizing that so much of life is actually like this. Yes, this is a unique situation none of us have ever been through before...trying to stay away from an illness that doesn't have a cure...but in our daily lives we constantly experience circumstances that push our limits, that test us, that put us in places we don't want to be in, that make us realize we aren't really in control of any of it. This is real life. Life happening to us, and we are just along for the ride. So how do we deal with it? How do we hold onto hope, how do we not sink into depression, when things around us are so uncertain and so out of control? How do we stay grounded when the tide is rising, and the waters, dark and dangerous, are surging around us?

Even on the darkest days, when the unknowns are casting a dark shadow on my daily life, threatening to steal all joy and hope, I have something to hold onto...perspective. Perspective that it will get better, that we won't be here forever, that the simple joys of being with my family are worth every moment, and perspective that it's been worse than it is right now. You see, years ago, I lost a baby. It was traumatic, it was dark, it almost drowned me. And yet I have faith in a God who was able to pull me out of that darkness, and I know He will do it again. In my weakest moments, when I wanted to quit on God because I didn't understand what I was going through, He never quit on me. He gave me a husband who loves me unconditionally, He blessed me with more children than I ever thought I could have, and I could go on and on about the small blessings I encounter every day.

So as I look today at my kids and my husband, I realize that the walls aren't closing in. I have a comfortable home to be in, filled with the laughter and chatter of little voices. I have the arms of husband who cares about my deepest thoughts and fears. And most importantly, I have the love of a God who has carried me through the deepest and darkest valleys and has never failed me. Even when so much of life right now seems scary and uncertain, my lifeline is those simple truths that will never change.

I encourage you today to find peace in perspective. Whether it's the smile of your loved one, the hugs of your children, the phone call from a good friend, focus on what IS going right in your world. We are all in this together. If you can't find the light today, reach out to someone who can help you find it. You are not alone.

Let's Get Real with Grief

    Every year on this day I post something on Facebook about my first son Jace, something short and sweet like “this day nine years ago little Jace left us to be in a better place and we love him and miss him so much” etc. Well, this year I can’t do it. This year I’m tired of feeling like I always say or do the “right” thing when it comes to losing my son even when it isn’t what I’m really thinking or feeling. I’m tired of feeling fake. I’m tired of pretending. I think I’m just tired. The reality of it is that this day nine years ago was one of the worst days of my life. No, let’s be real. It WAS LITERALLY the WORST day of my life. This day nine years ago I watched in horror as my baby gasped for air, and as he struggled to take his last breath his body went limp in my arms and he was just…gone. Just like that. Gone. And with him died all the hopes and dreams I had built up for his future. With him died my dreams as his mother. With him died a little bit of my faith, a little bit of my heart, a little bit of my joy, and all of my idealism. For better or worse, I changed that day. I looked into the eyes of my husband and I was no longer the person he had married. Something had been taken from me and I would never get it back.

   Watching Jace die was the most terrible moment I’ve ever experienced, and it would be a lie to say that, nine years later, I’ve completely recovered. Anyone who has ever gone through something traumatic…the loss of a child or a loved one, the loss of a marriage through divorce, betrayal, abuse, neglect, etc. knows that when you go through something that devastating it changes you irreversibly…you never get over it completely, you never go back to being the “old you.” So there’s the reality of it all. When I think about Jace now it’s hard for me to even remember what he looked like. His memory is fading with the passing years, the sad reality of anyone who has lost someone they love. 

   Some days I still like to play “what ifs.” “What if” he had been healthy, “what if” I had a nine year old little boy running around the house, “what if” I had six little mouths to feed instead of five. I like to picture the family I “should have” had or life as it “should have” gone. But as my sweet husband always reminds these, playing “what ifs” only keeps me from enjoying the realities of the life I actually have. Of looking at the five sweet faces I’m supposed to be mama to here on earth and cherishing them. Of using the loss of my one son to give me the ability to be a MUCH better mom to the five remaining children I have here. Here’s the reality of it: I wasn’t supposed to raise Jace to be a man. I wasn’t supposed to see him running around with my other five kids. I wasn’t meant to mother him longer than the short three months he had here. God’s plan for my life is bigger than what I make of it…greater than what I have planned for it...and sweeter than what I could ever have dreamed for it. 

    As harsh as Jace’s death was and still is for me sometimes, I can’t help but notice that losing him woke me up. I woke up from a false reality. I woke up from my own dreamland. I woke up from a fantasy life I had built for myself. When I look in my children’s eyes I see Jace. When I kiss their sweet cheeks I feel Jace. When I have a terrible day and question being a mom, I remember Jace. “Would I take it all back?” I’ve had people ask me. The honest answer is, of course I would take it all back. Of course I wish Jace never died. Of course I wish he was still alive. Of course I wish the only tangible part of him I have left isn’t his gravestone. Of course! But I can’t take it back. I can’t change it. I can’t “unwish” it or “undo” it because this is real life. It can be horrible and amazing all at the same time because we go through things that hurt so terribly and then experience things that bring such joy. On a good day I can focus on all the beautiful blessings God has given me. And yes, I have really bad days where it’s hard to see past all the crud and the loss is too much for me to handle. Losing Jace keeps me humble…it reminds me of my humanity, of my brokenness, and of my need for Someone greater than I am to pull me out of my pit of despair, to give me hope, to give me life, to give me purpose.  

    Since losing Jace I feel like I’ve been in a constant fluctuating state of being mad at God and yet realizing my complete need for Him. I know He loves me despite my doubts, my fears, my anger, and my hurt. How do I know? How can I hold onto Him when He put me through hell and back losing my child? Because I look into five pairs of beautiful little eyes and I know. I look at my incredible, faithful husband and I know. I look at myself in the mirror and think back to who I once was and I know. “I know the plan I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for good and not for evil. Plans to give you a future and a hope.” That’s what my Lord has done for me. He has given me the promise of a future in the five beautiful children I have on earth and the hope of a heaven where I can once again see my little Jace, healed, whole, and happy before the face of a God who loves me and my little ones more than I could ever fathom.