I have to admit, I'm kinda sad tonight will be the halfway mark through the foster parenting classes. Joey and I have bonded so much during this time, he has talked about his own experience with his parents divorce which has been very hard for him to openly talk about during our marriage and has been very open discussing feelings and emotions while riding home each night. Officially class 5! Wow. I was thinking this weekend while talking to a friend, although we have much more of an idea now what to expect...we still really have no idea what to expect.
and we won't until that child shows up at our door with the case worker.
It's one of the first times in my life I feel like I have heard God speak so plainly to my heart and while the classes have opened our eyes to how much more is involved in this than just needing to be good parents and have a loving home, when I was talking to Jennie and sharing some of the things we have learned from class she said, I would be scared to death. I could never do this. I don't know how you are doing this....there are so many things that are uncertain.
Sitting here, in this moment, I just smile and think....there's the very reason all my life God has made me a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. (my pants are just a little less dangerous than they used to be) ; )
Don't get me wrong, there are certain things I like order surrounding. Utter chaos does leave me unsettled...
But plans changing...moment by moment...being a prefabricator of whatever the situation needs and unpredictableness is second nature for me to roll with and pick up and keep on going. Wanting to be there for others needs has often been put above my own tiredness.
As a matter of fact so much so sometimes it drives Joey crazy, just ask him about 90 lb puppies ;)
Weekends can change in a matter of seconds at our house as well, like this weekend, we had spent all night Friday and most of Saturday with our friends who's brother passed away. Joey had taken Nick & Tyriq to choir practice when he got off work at 3:30 and I had told them Friday after work when I picked them up and was dropping them off back home, that I would call them Saturday evening and let them know if we were leaving earlier or later from our friends house after the funeral and if we could we would come get them and take them to dinner or to do something with them, but I really just wasn't sure yet with the situation being what it was. SO I asked Joey what he wanted to do around 6pm Saturday while at our friends house, leave now and get the boys or stay around and help our friends longer? He was indifferent.
From the time the phone started ringing to tell them we were going to hang around where were until later, and their mom answering the phone, I said "Hey! We are probably going to stay here until about 9pm and if that's not too late, we would love to come get the boys and have them spend the night and go to church with us in the morning, "Faith Force" is going to be at our church in the morning and I think the boys would love it!" : )
So surprise to Joey, we were staying there later, still getting the boys and having a pj party tonight (filled with pj's snacks and a movie) and taking them to church and keeping them until 3:30 the next day!!!!
He has gotten used to me, it's been 14 years after all. He rolls pretty good too~now. :D
Jennie is structure structure structure, schedule schedule schedule. SO ~ I am seeing and appreciating how even before I had any inkling of a clue that I would ever have foster mother written on my heart, God did.
He wired me to adapt, to change, to flex.
And for the last 14 years, Joey's adapted to my wired impetuous impulses...and even grown to love them ;)
Talking with Jennie about the big changes/challenges that will/could be coming to our home I am excited. I am looking forward to being stretched and molded and formed into what He has in store for me through this. He has shaped me into who I am now, and I know...this is going to reshape me even more. Reform what has become comfortable and easy to me. I can't wait to be used by Him to reach out to these hurt children as He did me.
I read the most powerful line on Ann Voskamp's blog this morning: I am the servant, not the source.
This is His plan not mine. I am the servant, not the source...
Otherwise, I would say the same thing Jennie did...I can't do this!!!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Class 4.... Oh my!!!!
Last nights class. WOW. It was probably the hardest class yet. I know I can't describe the intensity of it, and I don't know if I can even type it and make it make sense. And I know I won't type it all, it would take way longgggg.
The focus of last nights class was on (attachment/loss) and (bonding/trusting/attaching) again. Part of last nights class was an exercise in visual imagery. Which before last night I would have said..."really???? really???" to. I kind of did in my head when she even started...I was like..."really? this is suppose to work?" How many times have I heard, close your eyes pretend you are the beach, imagine you are somewhere warm....as I sit teeth chattering, blue fingered, not.one.bit.warmer!
How funny I am constantly battling “this is my perception” of the world (what I think will work, about how I think I can change something, if I'm being honest here, about how I think this was going to be a cheesy exercise last night).
And God has other plans. SO thankful for God's plans, not my own. This is His plan, I remember.
I only thought my heart had been broken in the other classes, the one where my pseudo-daughter was taken from me because I hit her. I only thought I knew felt the fear and the emotion that child would feel that night sitting on our couch from the role play session sitting beside my Joseph "the foster dad" the night I thought I felt nauseated.
Last night, I thought with my perception of the words. I thought visual imagery. HA!
She told us to close our eyes if we would like, which I did, actually I laid my head on the desk on top of my folded arms. (therefore, since you are reading this you already can’t get the full effect) She told us to picture our house. Our favorite room in the house. Our house filled with our loved ones, our smells, our “things”, our security. She told us to zone in on our favorite room, doing our favorite thing with our favorite people.
I pictured myself cuddled up behind Payton on her single bed propped up on my left elbow looking over her, with my right arm thrown around her, watching animal planet together talking about what we are seeing laughing at the animals (she lovesss all things animal shows), Joey sitting on the foot bed with his knees bent up and leaning up against her green and purple wall. All of us laughing talking having fun much like it is when we "tuck her in" at night (minus the animal planet).
Back in the classroom, she tells us to feel the emotions. Feel the security of knowing where everything is, whatever it is, it is yours and it’s what you are used to. Your home, your family.
Then she BANG BANG BANGS on the table to simulate a knocking at the door, she did it hard and it startled me--my head darted up and I qucikly opened my eyes.
She announced she is the people mover. She is here to move people. She has authority to take (me) you and move you to a new home. Things have been determined by a higher power (the judge) that you must be moved to a new home, who really wants a new mom/dad just like you. You will be moved to a new family who will love you and who have been waiting for you. You don’t have a say in the matter. You will have new children, and a new husband at your new home. You have 30 minutes to pack a plastic bag or a cardboard box with whatever will fit in it. You may not take people or pets, because your new family may not want them.
Then she asks several people in the room what would you take?
I now see this is not silly. It is not HA! It is not “visual imagery? really????” There is nothing cheesy here in this room, in this chair with my mind grasping what she is doing and my heart beat raising. It's not cheese.
It is my heart. Ripping into a million more pieces than it ever has before over all of this.
It is a solid real lump in my throat.
It is only a first wave of nausea in this exercise.
It is the reality of every child who may come to live with us. (even if they aren't sitting curled up in a bed with love filling the room before the knock). It~ is~terrifying!!!!
Her voice snaps me back, what would you take? As she called on people around the room she repeats them and says, “pictures, stuffed animals, clothes” I feel myself tearing up. SHOOT!!! I ALWAYS TEAR UP I think to myself!!! Sitting trying to think if I had to fill one box of my life and with what from my house....How could you fill one bag...but at the same time...what would anything you could put in that bag matter at that moment?
She then says, we are now walking out the front door.
Now look back, your family is standing there, not wanting you to leave….watching you go. How do you feel?
Words escape me.
The lump in my throat grows. I am grateful she doesn't call on me. There aren't words.
She then says we get in the car and you take one last look back while pulling out the driveway, your home is fading out the back window of a car. It is now, away from your then home that she tells you of your new family. How they have been waiting for you, they are excited to meet you, they are going to love you and take care of you and they want you to be a part of their family. They want to offer your love and security and safety and probably "material things" you have never had. We pull into a neighborhood; the houses are much bigger, much nicer than where you have lived. We pull into a driveway and get out of the car. As we are walking up to the front door...
How do you feel, how are you reacting?
As she asked others around the room, Inside I was silently screaming still I would have to be restrained---still kicking and screaming that I want my family back!!!!!!
She asks, how do you think you are going to feel towards the new family?
She asks around the room again…
Anger, scared, sad, withdrawn, non-trusting, mad one man said, "PISSED!"
She looks at me and says, "How do you feel walking up to the door Melissa?"
“Nauseated." I say quietly through light tears.
Joey turned and looked at me and asks if I am ok. He said I looked as if I was really going to throw up. I assured him, that I felt like I was. For real.
The visual imagery exercise went on….. and on……
* and she does say, this in not how a real removal happens, but this is just an exercise.
I didn’t throw up. But my heart still hurts from it today and typing this made me cry all over. My heart is pounding in my chest right now re-living it, and it isn't even reality to me. This is real life for them. The ones God has laid it on my heart to care for. To be that face they see when walking up our steps to our house that first day/night.
Continue to break my heart Lord for what breaks yours. Let me see the suffering that Jesus sees and let me be His hands. Compassionate, healing, kind, unconditionally loving, forgiving, patience, protective...just as YOU have been to me. Show me ways to be more like you. Let those children see you as they come into our home, let us ALL be a little bit less of ourselves and more of You. Only You can keep my cup full, so that "You" is what pours out of me onto these wounded scared pounding hearts. Let me show them Love...and God is Love.
m
The focus of last nights class was on (attachment/loss) and (bonding/trusting/attaching) again. Part of last nights class was an exercise in visual imagery. Which before last night I would have said..."really???? really???" to. I kind of did in my head when she even started...I was like..."really? this is suppose to work?" How many times have I heard, close your eyes pretend you are the beach, imagine you are somewhere warm....as I sit teeth chattering, blue fingered, not.one.bit.warmer!
How funny I am constantly battling “this is my perception” of the world (what I think will work, about how I think I can change something, if I'm being honest here, about how I think this was going to be a cheesy exercise last night).
And God has other plans. SO thankful for God's plans, not my own. This is His plan, I remember.
I only thought my heart had been broken in the other classes, the one where my pseudo-daughter was taken from me because I hit her. I only thought I knew felt the fear and the emotion that child would feel that night sitting on our couch from the role play session sitting beside my Joseph "the foster dad" the night I thought I felt nauseated.
Last night, I thought with my perception of the words. I thought visual imagery. HA!
She told us to close our eyes if we would like, which I did, actually I laid my head on the desk on top of my folded arms. (therefore, since you are reading this you already can’t get the full effect) She told us to picture our house. Our favorite room in the house. Our house filled with our loved ones, our smells, our “things”, our security. She told us to zone in on our favorite room, doing our favorite thing with our favorite people.
I pictured myself cuddled up behind Payton on her single bed propped up on my left elbow looking over her, with my right arm thrown around her, watching animal planet together talking about what we are seeing laughing at the animals (she lovesss all things animal shows), Joey sitting on the foot bed with his knees bent up and leaning up against her green and purple wall. All of us laughing talking having fun much like it is when we "tuck her in" at night (minus the animal planet).
Back in the classroom, she tells us to feel the emotions. Feel the security of knowing where everything is, whatever it is, it is yours and it’s what you are used to. Your home, your family.
Then she BANG BANG BANGS on the table to simulate a knocking at the door, she did it hard and it startled me--my head darted up and I qucikly opened my eyes.
She announced she is the people mover. She is here to move people. She has authority to take (me) you and move you to a new home. Things have been determined by a higher power (the judge) that you must be moved to a new home, who really wants a new mom/dad just like you. You will be moved to a new family who will love you and who have been waiting for you. You don’t have a say in the matter. You will have new children, and a new husband at your new home. You have 30 minutes to pack a plastic bag or a cardboard box with whatever will fit in it. You may not take people or pets, because your new family may not want them.
Then she asks several people in the room what would you take?
I now see this is not silly. It is not HA! It is not “visual imagery? really????” There is nothing cheesy here in this room, in this chair with my mind grasping what she is doing and my heart beat raising. It's not cheese.
It is my heart. Ripping into a million more pieces than it ever has before over all of this.
It is a solid real lump in my throat.
It is only a first wave of nausea in this exercise.
It is the reality of every child who may come to live with us. (even if they aren't sitting curled up in a bed with love filling the room before the knock). It~ is~terrifying!!!!
Her voice snaps me back, what would you take? As she called on people around the room she repeats them and says, “pictures, stuffed animals, clothes” I feel myself tearing up. SHOOT!!! I ALWAYS TEAR UP I think to myself!!! Sitting trying to think if I had to fill one box of my life and with what from my house....How could you fill one bag...but at the same time...what would anything you could put in that bag matter at that moment?
She then says, we are now walking out the front door.
Now look back, your family is standing there, not wanting you to leave….watching you go. How do you feel?
Words escape me.
The lump in my throat grows. I am grateful she doesn't call on me. There aren't words.
She then says we get in the car and you take one last look back while pulling out the driveway, your home is fading out the back window of a car. It is now, away from your then home that she tells you of your new family. How they have been waiting for you, they are excited to meet you, they are going to love you and take care of you and they want you to be a part of their family. They want to offer your love and security and safety and probably "material things" you have never had. We pull into a neighborhood; the houses are much bigger, much nicer than where you have lived. We pull into a driveway and get out of the car. As we are walking up to the front door...
How do you feel, how are you reacting?
As she asked others around the room, Inside I was silently screaming still I would have to be restrained---still kicking and screaming that I want my family back!!!!!!
She asks, how do you think you are going to feel towards the new family?
She asks around the room again…
Anger, scared, sad, withdrawn, non-trusting, mad one man said, "PISSED!"
She looks at me and says, "How do you feel walking up to the door Melissa?"
“Nauseated." I say quietly through light tears.
Joey turned and looked at me and asks if I am ok. He said I looked as if I was really going to throw up. I assured him, that I felt like I was. For real.
The visual imagery exercise went on….. and on……
* and she does say, this in not how a real removal happens, but this is just an exercise.
I didn’t throw up. But my heart still hurts from it today and typing this made me cry all over. My heart is pounding in my chest right now re-living it, and it isn't even reality to me. This is real life for them. The ones God has laid it on my heart to care for. To be that face they see when walking up our steps to our house that first day/night.
Continue to break my heart Lord for what breaks yours. Let me see the suffering that Jesus sees and let me be His hands. Compassionate, healing, kind, unconditionally loving, forgiving, patience, protective...just as YOU have been to me. Show me ways to be more like you. Let those children see you as they come into our home, let us ALL be a little bit less of ourselves and more of You. Only You can keep my cup full, so that "You" is what pours out of me onto these wounded scared pounding hearts. Let me show them Love...and God is Love.
m
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Tuesday Tuesday!!!
Tuesday has become one of my 3 favorite days of the week. I told Joey I was actually going to be sad with the Foster Parenting classes were over.
This week we get FINGERPRINTED!!! DUm DuM DUmmmmmmmmmmmm! (pronounced like cliff hanger music at the end of a scene of a play) When I told my mom we had to leave early tonight she was like oh wow! REALLY, your getting fingerprinted???? I told her I hadn't killed anybody lately so it should be fine ; )
I'm not sure what the content of the class is tonight, seeing as how my husband, who is a procrastinator has our book today (which I usually scan through before class).....because we had the packet of like 60 pages of FBI newsworthy information on our lives we had to fill out before the 4th class...and he is having to finish his today before class at 6pm. hmmm.
I have been waiting on him to turn mine in, (mine which was done the next day after it was given to us) *we so would not have been good project buddies in school because I am serious about classes and homework and getting it done asap and turning stuff in early*
He waits until Monday night every week before doing the home work for the next class. :/
"They" do say opposites attract right?
He says he bets I was the teacher pet in school. I say I was a single mom who tried to stay on top of everything and lingering assignments got chewed on/drooled/torn/juiced/lost while I was in college.
Regardless of our homework ethics...
I AM SOOOOOOOOOOO IN LOVE WITH THIS PRCRASTANTING MAN God has blessed me with.
Part of our 60 page FBI profile (that's my name for it, not theirs) we had to fill out info about each other, it was nice reading what he wrote about me, and he wanted to see what I wrote about him...so those are the things I will focus on...the blessings, because who knows what his procrastination has saved us from in the past
...I tend to fast forward through life. Saturday slowing down really showed me that.
Happy TUESDAY, my 3rd favorite day of the week! ; )
m
This week we get FINGERPRINTED!!! DUm DuM DUmmmmmmmmmmmm! (pronounced like cliff hanger music at the end of a scene of a play) When I told my mom we had to leave early tonight she was like oh wow! REALLY, your getting fingerprinted???? I told her I hadn't killed anybody lately so it should be fine ; )
I'm not sure what the content of the class is tonight, seeing as how my husband, who is a procrastinator has our book today (which I usually scan through before class).....because we had the packet of like 60 pages of FBI newsworthy information on our lives we had to fill out before the 4th class...and he is having to finish his today before class at 6pm. hmmm.
I have been waiting on him to turn mine in, (mine which was done the next day after it was given to us) *we so would not have been good project buddies in school because I am serious about classes and homework and getting it done asap and turning stuff in early*
He waits until Monday night every week before doing the home work for the next class. :/
"They" do say opposites attract right?
He says he bets I was the teacher pet in school. I say I was a single mom who tried to stay on top of everything and lingering assignments got chewed on/drooled/torn/juiced/lost while I was in college.
Regardless of our homework ethics...
I AM SOOOOOOOOOOO IN LOVE WITH THIS PRCRASTANTING MAN God has blessed me with.
Part of our 60 page FBI profile (that's my name for it, not theirs) we had to fill out info about each other, it was nice reading what he wrote about me, and he wanted to see what I wrote about him...so those are the things I will focus on...the blessings, because who knows what his procrastination has saved us from in the past
...I tend to fast forward through life. Saturday slowing down really showed me that.
Happy TUESDAY, my 3rd favorite day of the week! ; )
m
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Grief/Loss/Rings Class 3
Last nights class was about how to help children we may foster deal with their loss.
It made me realize, I still hadn't fully dealt with the loss of some things even some 20+ years later.
The instructors always ask for volunteers, and I having been a teacher and knowing the wretched sound of crickets chirping when you ask someone to share and answer or for an example from the class and that longggggg silence that comes after, always makes me compelled to raise my hand, for the sole purpose of helping them out, because I feel bad that no one else does.
And...I don't have a problem talking...ask Joey ; )
So last night the question was...think of one object (not a person) but an object that you lost that meant a lot to you, and that you can not replace. After giving us time to think, (and my surprise of the object and memories I thought of), and the ensuing silence after she re-asked someone to volunteer two times, I raised my hand.
She asked what the object was and for me to describe the object in as much detail as possible.
Object description: A gold very thin banded ring with an oblong opal center with a sideways heart surrounding the opal.
(That part went good.)
Then she asked why it was special...this is when it got hard for me (I didn't go into this much detail in class, but since I am remembering it now, so I am going to write the whole story with as much detail as I can remember here..because I realized from the look Joey gave me in class, he had never heard anything about this before...I don't know that I have thought of it since high school)
When my grandaddy was sick with cancer, I stayed with my grandma and grandaddy A LOT!!! He was the main male influence in my life from birth up to the age of 14 when he passed away. He was my strong, safe, loving, cuddling, questioning, interested in every detail of my life, laughing, joking, garage hanging out with and outdoor buddy. He was awesome. In the later stages of his illness when he was in bed sick and could no longer get up and down by himself, I used to lay in bed with him and talk to him, read my Judy Blume books to him, and just keep him company. I stayed there a lot! As absolutely much as my parents would allow me to.
One day we were talking and I was telling him how I was going to have a boyfriend one day, and he was going to love me and buy me a beautiful ring...just like I wanted for this finger! And I held up my finger. Two weekends later when I was back, my grandma said she wanted to talk to me. She had an envelope and on it said, "Melissa Anne--our barbie doll" (that's what they used to call me, because they said I didn't look like anyone in our family, that I was much prettier). She said that my grandaddy wanted me to go pick out and buy the ring that I wanted, because no boyfriend would ever love me as much as him, that I had brought so much joy into his life and been such a help to her and him both, and that I had loved him like none of the other grandchildren, and he wanted me to have something special from him. Inside the envelope was $300.00 (which in 1984 was a lot more today, and a WHOLE LOT OF MONEY TO A 14 year old). I remember my mom and grandma took me to (____? I can picture the store and the jewelry counter but can not for the life of me remember the name of it...and it's gone now_____) and I looked at the rings and found the opal with the heart around it and thought it was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen and the heart reminded me of my grandaddy's love. I fell in love with it, and my grandma paid for it with the money out of the envelope and put the change back in (the ring was less than $100).
I remember getting back to my grandaddy's bed and oooohing and ahhhhing over the ring with him. I loved that ring, and soon after when he passed away it became even more valuable to me.
I lost it in the locker room some years later in high school. (saying this out loud in class last night I started tearing up) I know I know I know...what I am learning more than anything out of this class is that I am a bleeding heart. I THOUGHT I was so much stronger emotionally than I am....or maybe it's that new tender heart that is promised us in Ezekiel. Maybe I did used to be stronger/harder....and I am just now with these classes, actually seeing just how much that part of me has truly melted away.
Then she started asking me how I felt when I looked down and saw it was gone.
Shocked/Scared/Denial
Then later how did I feel when I went back and realized it really was gone, not in the locker, not in the office.
Angry/Mad (at myself and whomever stole it)
Then there was a time of rationale/bargaining:
I thought if I could just get it back, I would put it up and never wear it again, or never take it off again...even for PE.
Then came the depression
The sadness of knowing it was gone, and I was the one who lost it.
Finally: (this is the part of the model I failed at) haha
She asked how long it took for me to accept it. To accept it was gone and there was nothing I could do to get it back.
I told her I still hope to find it someday. I have been back in the locker room when Kaylin was running track and again looked in that locker and the one below it... ; )
The last stage of grief/loss is suppose to be acceptance. F.A.I.L.
I know everyone is different and everyone's experiences and how they deal with things differ and there are MANY MANY different factors that make the above stages faster/easier/longer depending on many many variables, some of which we discussed last night.
But this class did make me look at the death/loss of my own dad and how I handled it in a different way. It did make me see with that hindsight vision (which is so much clearer), that I did go through all of those stages, some for much longer than others even though I had no idea what they were and no one to help me with them. And we even talked about how, once you have "gotten through" each one, they can resurface. A smell, a paintbrush isle for me ;) which I have written of on here, have thrown me right back into that shock/anger/depressed stage even years later and UNEXPECTEDLY!!!
Just like a dinner I cook or a word I say, may do that to a child in our home.
These are the things that kids are going to be going through with feeling the "loss" of their parents while in our care.
I know how I acted as a 34 year old adult losing my dad. Some days I was really ugly, mean, mad...and if I could have gotten away with it, I honestly, myself probably would have done a lot of kicking, biting and hitting during that anger stage, to people who really truly meant well in whatever they said to me at the time, but at the time, it just made me angrier, and made me want to lash out at them and hurt someone else like I was hurting. Of course I didn't, because I had the maturity and life experiences to know better, but it doesn't mean I didn't feel it. As a matter of fact, I did do a lot of screaming...albeit in my car, but I did some screaming alright! There is no telling how a 3, 4, 6, 11 year old may handle that anger stage.
..and we need the tools as a family to be able to handle that.
I was an adult, who could actually process what happened. These kids, some of them, will be removed in the middle of the night, or could even be with us as a result of a primary parents death, or they could be removed from a parent who is kicking and screaming themselves, therefore they will model that behavior with us...and they don't have the maturity or life experiences to be able to rely on or reflect on while going through the grief process.
The class last night made me realize, I need to deepen my own understanding of grief and loss, to best help these kids who are going to have to be dealing with it, by no fault of their own.
*the ring... later after my granddad had been gone for years, my grandma asked where my ring was. I cried. I felt so horrible telling her that I had lost the ring. (It felt like it did last night, having to relive telling that I lost something that was so precious and irreplaceable to me.) My grandma, ohhh my sweet sweet but call it like it is grandma, she just sweetly and gently replied. "I knew you would. I told your grandaddy you were too young to buy you a nice piece of jewelery, that you would lose it and be sad about it...but he insisted, he wanted to do it while he could see your face and see you wear it and enjoy it." She then tells me how very much he loved me.
She told me to follow her and she goes into a drawer in his dresser, in his room (where I slept when I spent the night with her and lived with her for a short time later on) and she pulls out the envelope that says "Melissa Anne-our barbie doll" and hands it to me. She said, "There is the rest of the money from that day. When you feel you are old enough to not lose it, you go buy you another ring from your grandaddy and me, you were such a big help to us both getting through his sickness". Then she reminded me (like she did EVERYBODY for years and years and years and years after to the point I almost felt sorry for people having to hear it so much haha) how once my grandaddy got so sick he couldn't even sit up by himself, I would prop him up and sit behind him with my back to his back to let him sit up for a little while at a time and how for weeks I did this, before he eventually got a hospital bed from hospice..and how he always talked of that, until he could no longer talk.
I did buy another ring, (not identical, it was little sapphires and diamonds shaped in a heart) and I still have it, but it never replaced the one I lost. It was never quite the same, it wasn't the one I laid in bed and oohed and ahhed over with him.
...and I still have that envelope with my grandma's handwriting on it, with a $20 bill of the original money still in it, in my "important document box" with our birth certificates and marriage license and social security cards etc. in it, because, that envelope is still a very important document to me ; )
It made me realize, I still hadn't fully dealt with the loss of some things even some 20+ years later.
The instructors always ask for volunteers, and I having been a teacher and knowing the wretched sound of crickets chirping when you ask someone to share and answer or for an example from the class and that longggggg silence that comes after, always makes me compelled to raise my hand, for the sole purpose of helping them out, because I feel bad that no one else does.
And...I don't have a problem talking...ask Joey ; )
So last night the question was...think of one object (not a person) but an object that you lost that meant a lot to you, and that you can not replace. After giving us time to think, (and my surprise of the object and memories I thought of), and the ensuing silence after she re-asked someone to volunteer two times, I raised my hand.
She asked what the object was and for me to describe the object in as much detail as possible.
Object description: A gold very thin banded ring with an oblong opal center with a sideways heart surrounding the opal.
(That part went good.)
Then she asked why it was special...this is when it got hard for me (I didn't go into this much detail in class, but since I am remembering it now, so I am going to write the whole story with as much detail as I can remember here..because I realized from the look Joey gave me in class, he had never heard anything about this before...I don't know that I have thought of it since high school)
When my grandaddy was sick with cancer, I stayed with my grandma and grandaddy A LOT!!! He was the main male influence in my life from birth up to the age of 14 when he passed away. He was my strong, safe, loving, cuddling, questioning, interested in every detail of my life, laughing, joking, garage hanging out with and outdoor buddy. He was awesome. In the later stages of his illness when he was in bed sick and could no longer get up and down by himself, I used to lay in bed with him and talk to him, read my Judy Blume books to him, and just keep him company. I stayed there a lot! As absolutely much as my parents would allow me to.
One day we were talking and I was telling him how I was going to have a boyfriend one day, and he was going to love me and buy me a beautiful ring...just like I wanted for this finger! And I held up my finger. Two weekends later when I was back, my grandma said she wanted to talk to me. She had an envelope and on it said, "Melissa Anne--our barbie doll" (that's what they used to call me, because they said I didn't look like anyone in our family, that I was much prettier). She said that my grandaddy wanted me to go pick out and buy the ring that I wanted, because no boyfriend would ever love me as much as him, that I had brought so much joy into his life and been such a help to her and him both, and that I had loved him like none of the other grandchildren, and he wanted me to have something special from him. Inside the envelope was $300.00 (which in 1984 was a lot more today, and a WHOLE LOT OF MONEY TO A 14 year old). I remember my mom and grandma took me to (____? I can picture the store and the jewelry counter but can not for the life of me remember the name of it...and it's gone now_____) and I looked at the rings and found the opal with the heart around it and thought it was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen and the heart reminded me of my grandaddy's love. I fell in love with it, and my grandma paid for it with the money out of the envelope and put the change back in (the ring was less than $100).
I remember getting back to my grandaddy's bed and oooohing and ahhhhing over the ring with him. I loved that ring, and soon after when he passed away it became even more valuable to me.
I lost it in the locker room some years later in high school. (saying this out loud in class last night I started tearing up) I know I know I know...what I am learning more than anything out of this class is that I am a bleeding heart. I THOUGHT I was so much stronger emotionally than I am....or maybe it's that new tender heart that is promised us in Ezekiel. Maybe I did used to be stronger/harder....and I am just now with these classes, actually seeing just how much that part of me has truly melted away.
Then she started asking me how I felt when I looked down and saw it was gone.
Shocked/Scared/Denial
Then later how did I feel when I went back and realized it really was gone, not in the locker, not in the office.
Angry/Mad (at myself and whomever stole it)
Then there was a time of rationale/bargaining:
I thought if I could just get it back, I would put it up and never wear it again, or never take it off again...even for PE.
Then came the depression
The sadness of knowing it was gone, and I was the one who lost it.
Finally: (this is the part of the model I failed at) haha
She asked how long it took for me to accept it. To accept it was gone and there was nothing I could do to get it back.
I told her I still hope to find it someday. I have been back in the locker room when Kaylin was running track and again looked in that locker and the one below it... ; )
The last stage of grief/loss is suppose to be acceptance. F.A.I.L.
I know everyone is different and everyone's experiences and how they deal with things differ and there are MANY MANY different factors that make the above stages faster/easier/longer depending on many many variables, some of which we discussed last night.
But this class did make me look at the death/loss of my own dad and how I handled it in a different way. It did make me see with that hindsight vision (which is so much clearer), that I did go through all of those stages, some for much longer than others even though I had no idea what they were and no one to help me with them. And we even talked about how, once you have "gotten through" each one, they can resurface. A smell, a paintbrush isle for me ;) which I have written of on here, have thrown me right back into that shock/anger/depressed stage even years later and UNEXPECTEDLY!!!
Just like a dinner I cook or a word I say, may do that to a child in our home.
These are the things that kids are going to be going through with feeling the "loss" of their parents while in our care.
I know how I acted as a 34 year old adult losing my dad. Some days I was really ugly, mean, mad...and if I could have gotten away with it, I honestly, myself probably would have done a lot of kicking, biting and hitting during that anger stage, to people who really truly meant well in whatever they said to me at the time, but at the time, it just made me angrier, and made me want to lash out at them and hurt someone else like I was hurting. Of course I didn't, because I had the maturity and life experiences to know better, but it doesn't mean I didn't feel it. As a matter of fact, I did do a lot of screaming...albeit in my car, but I did some screaming alright! There is no telling how a 3, 4, 6, 11 year old may handle that anger stage.
..and we need the tools as a family to be able to handle that.
I was an adult, who could actually process what happened. These kids, some of them, will be removed in the middle of the night, or could even be with us as a result of a primary parents death, or they could be removed from a parent who is kicking and screaming themselves, therefore they will model that behavior with us...and they don't have the maturity or life experiences to be able to rely on or reflect on while going through the grief process.
The class last night made me realize, I need to deepen my own understanding of grief and loss, to best help these kids who are going to have to be dealing with it, by no fault of their own.
*the ring... later after my granddad had been gone for years, my grandma asked where my ring was. I cried. I felt so horrible telling her that I had lost the ring. (It felt like it did last night, having to relive telling that I lost something that was so precious and irreplaceable to me.) My grandma, ohhh my sweet sweet but call it like it is grandma, she just sweetly and gently replied. "I knew you would. I told your grandaddy you were too young to buy you a nice piece of jewelery, that you would lose it and be sad about it...but he insisted, he wanted to do it while he could see your face and see you wear it and enjoy it." She then tells me how very much he loved me.
She told me to follow her and she goes into a drawer in his dresser, in his room (where I slept when I spent the night with her and lived with her for a short time later on) and she pulls out the envelope that says "Melissa Anne-our barbie doll" and hands it to me. She said, "There is the rest of the money from that day. When you feel you are old enough to not lose it, you go buy you another ring from your grandaddy and me, you were such a big help to us both getting through his sickness". Then she reminded me (like she did EVERYBODY for years and years and years and years after to the point I almost felt sorry for people having to hear it so much haha) how once my grandaddy got so sick he couldn't even sit up by himself, I would prop him up and sit behind him with my back to his back to let him sit up for a little while at a time and how for weeks I did this, before he eventually got a hospital bed from hospice..and how he always talked of that, until he could no longer talk.
I did buy another ring, (not identical, it was little sapphires and diamonds shaped in a heart) and I still have it, but it never replaced the one I lost. It was never quite the same, it wasn't the one I laid in bed and oohed and ahhed over with him.
...and I still have that envelope with my grandma's handwriting on it, with a $20 bill of the original money still in it, in my "important document box" with our birth certificates and marriage license and social security cards etc. in it, because, that envelope is still a very important document to me ; )
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Heart Broken...
"Break my heart for what breaks Yours".
It was a song, that turned into a thought, that turned into a prayer, that turned into an action,
that has turned into a truth.
God loves children...and my heart is broken over the foster parenting classes, over the reality I was oblivious to.
Some people have already not returned to the program. I can't describe the details of every class, but whomever developed it, and the teaching style of the class, is/are wonderful. Every night so far (3 technically) Joey and I have both walked away filled with conversation and discussions about things we had no idea existed in our own little world, and how by knowing them changes our feelings and actions about such things. There are so many songs on KLove that I listen to daily, that are taking on so much more meaning and DEPTH to me now, they are about real situations and real changes in my heart and changes in my husband's heart and thoughts.
Tonight's class was almost 100% senerio. We were told everyone would have to participate so I was the first volunteer tonight...I was a 28 year old mom with a hard working husband, I stayed at home with our 2 daughters age 6 and 2. Last night's class was about showing us a real situation, what all takes place in behind the scenes and gave everyone a chance to see start to finish exactly how the foster care system works from everyone's point of view, the parents, the children, the social workers, the foster parents it didn't work out with, the foster parents it did work out with and eventually winding up with the long term goal of the child back with her parents.
I knew in the nursery that Sunday my heart was breaking for the baby, the foster mom and the real mom in prison. What I didn't know was how the entire process happens and how much time and effort are put in by the foster parents, for the goal of getting the child back to it's birth parents.
OK I'm getting ahead of myself.
Here's the super condensed version and while I have a funny outgoing personality and I did make some of the scenario funny (they asked what mom would do/say/feel etc) and I opted to leave the hubby in jail...it was safer for him there etc, but it was very effective to myself and others in the room still:
I'm a 28 year old mom, loving husband, hard worker, he's quiet when upset/angry I am verbal. He has been raised to work hard be a provider and always has. Married right out of high school no family, one car, stick to ourselves.
Friday night, husband just got laid off, weeks before unemployment begins. Money was already tight, paycheck to paycheck, but heads above water. He is stressed. I am stressed. 6 year old has been promised a Circus trip for birthday and is told we can't go. 6 year old pitches a t-total unrelenting tantrum of all tantrums. Can't be reasoned with. Dad under extreme pressure slaps child, child steps backwards trips hits head. Requires ER on Friday night. Social worker called by ER doc. All stories line up, no history of abuse family sent home with social worker to follow up. Mom stays upset about it, later that night things get heated between mom and dad, dad goes to bar, has accident, gets DUI, goes to jail. Mom home, no resources, no car, no church family, no friends. MAD AT DAD, leaving him in jail for weekend until court on Monday.
Sunday, dad still in jail, mom home alone with kids, distraught over everything, feeling helpless no where to turn, 6 year old acting out, 2 year old crying a lot, 6 year old pushes too many buttons (mom and dad were disciplined with spanking/physically as children-so it's what they know). Mom in desperation slaps child, breaks nose. Mom runs out of house scared, child follows, falls down steps, trip to ER # 2 Sunday.
DSS called, oldest child 6 year old immediately removed from home on a Sunday night. Younger sibling allowed to stay, no sign of abuse social worker believes it would be more detrimental to younger child to be removed at this point (which we all questioned, but this was the scenario).
At this point in real life, I started to feel like I was going to throw up. (call me a bleeding heart..whatever) I started getting nauseated watching this all happen and how easily a family can go from a happy, functioning family to this...because I can see this happening.
Watching "my child" taken and sat with a foster family...my eyes started welling with tears. The pain, the fear, the confusion, the quilt, the feelings that child must be feeling, I was feeling them all. And watching that child go sit on the "couch" beside Joey (he was foster dad #1)...made me realize....
THAT COULD SOON BE A REAL CHILD SITTING ON OUR COUCH IN THE MIDDLE OF A SUNDAY NIGHT.
scared.confused.afraid.wanting his/her parents back. Not having a clue who we are. Our house being strange, without it's sibling or mom or dad. Isolated. frightened. wondering what just happened. Wanting to go home and sleep in their own room.
Well within one day, the foster parents decided this child was a bad fit for their family (a reason was given) and sent the child to foster home #2. All the while, my heart breaking within my chest and pouring out to this "child" like salty water from my eyes. Loss of parents, sister, not wanted at foster home (even though the reasons of the foster parents was concern for their own daughter).
Did the birth parents make mistakes? Yes. Have I made mistakes? Yes. Do the parents need some support and help? Yes. Did I once need help and support? Yes. Do the parents love their children and want their family together. Yes. Does the child want to go home? Yes. Did a situation spiral out of control quickly? Yes. Should it have happened? No, but it did. And...
Just like that. There could be a little person, with a little broken scared heart sitting on our couch, in our living room.
Tonight's class made this whole thing so much more real to me.
And the "after-this" that came into play next had Joey and I talking last night about the realities of commitment this is going to take.
Some (a lot) of these children need counselling after they are placed with you. This is a weekly commitment on the foster parents part to schedule and get these children to those appointments. Then there are visitations, most birth parents want to see their children the next day under supervised conditions to reassure themselves and their child that everything is going to be ok. Visitations with parents are mandatory (under most circumstances) and it's the foster parents responsibility to get them there, it's healthy for the child to be in contact with their birth parents. There are SEVERAL court dates and social worker appointments as well.
Not to mention, this child could be from a different school district, or not have daycare arrangements in place if they were in the home with the mom like above, and those things take time and effort to procure and handle. Even though you are working with your case worker and they do everything they can to assist you as soon as possible, these things sometimes take a couple of days to get in place, or if the child came to you at midnight thirty, and most likely won't sleep well, they may need to just sleep the next day or just take a day to get themselves prepared to go back to school, and you may have to work out getting that child to that other school district and yourself to work on time.
I had considered the added responsibility of another child with teacher work days, conferences, doctor visits when sick, field trip days, sick days where if they were sick I would take off work and care lovingly for them, just as I would my own children, things I knew about that children would need. but...
There are aspects of this I hadn't considered. I didn't know to consider them.
What I do know, is I know Jesus came to earth and became a servant to help others. I know I want to be more like Him. I want to do what Jesus would do. I want to go deeper.
I asked Joey after extensive conversations about things that we learned tonight on the way home if he had any new reservations about this whole thing after tonight's class. To which he replied no, he's in this.
He is feeling the heartbreaks as well.
I adore my husband and the man he is, the husband he is, the father he is. But this entire thing we are learning about together and experiencing together is making me love him more than ever. He is so stinking HOT following the Lord, following his heart, following this thing that is so much bigger than both of us. I know that may not be "reverently phrased"...but it's true to me. ; ) There is something about a man who is willing to be vulnerable and to be compassionate to others, put children who have needs above comfort and ease that is super uper duper attractive to me.
There is something about him walking with Him that makes me want to love him more, and better and deeper.
Next week there is a guest speaker from Hospice coming to help us learn to deal/support/help with separation and loss children may suffer from this experience.
Thanking God for answered prayers tonight!
It was a song, that turned into a thought, that turned into a prayer, that turned into an action,
that has turned into a truth.
God loves children...and my heart is broken over the foster parenting classes, over the reality I was oblivious to.
Some people have already not returned to the program. I can't describe the details of every class, but whomever developed it, and the teaching style of the class, is/are wonderful. Every night so far (3 technically) Joey and I have both walked away filled with conversation and discussions about things we had no idea existed in our own little world, and how by knowing them changes our feelings and actions about such things. There are so many songs on KLove that I listen to daily, that are taking on so much more meaning and DEPTH to me now, they are about real situations and real changes in my heart and changes in my husband's heart and thoughts.
Tonight's class was almost 100% senerio. We were told everyone would have to participate so I was the first volunteer tonight...I was a 28 year old mom with a hard working husband, I stayed at home with our 2 daughters age 6 and 2. Last night's class was about showing us a real situation, what all takes place in behind the scenes and gave everyone a chance to see start to finish exactly how the foster care system works from everyone's point of view, the parents, the children, the social workers, the foster parents it didn't work out with, the foster parents it did work out with and eventually winding up with the long term goal of the child back with her parents.
I knew in the nursery that Sunday my heart was breaking for the baby, the foster mom and the real mom in prison. What I didn't know was how the entire process happens and how much time and effort are put in by the foster parents, for the goal of getting the child back to it's birth parents.
OK I'm getting ahead of myself.
Here's the super condensed version and while I have a funny outgoing personality and I did make some of the scenario funny (they asked what mom would do/say/feel etc) and I opted to leave the hubby in jail...it was safer for him there etc, but it was very effective to myself and others in the room still:
I'm a 28 year old mom, loving husband, hard worker, he's quiet when upset/angry I am verbal. He has been raised to work hard be a provider and always has. Married right out of high school no family, one car, stick to ourselves.
Friday night, husband just got laid off, weeks before unemployment begins. Money was already tight, paycheck to paycheck, but heads above water. He is stressed. I am stressed. 6 year old has been promised a Circus trip for birthday and is told we can't go. 6 year old pitches a t-total unrelenting tantrum of all tantrums. Can't be reasoned with. Dad under extreme pressure slaps child, child steps backwards trips hits head. Requires ER on Friday night. Social worker called by ER doc. All stories line up, no history of abuse family sent home with social worker to follow up. Mom stays upset about it, later that night things get heated between mom and dad, dad goes to bar, has accident, gets DUI, goes to jail. Mom home, no resources, no car, no church family, no friends. MAD AT DAD, leaving him in jail for weekend until court on Monday.
Sunday, dad still in jail, mom home alone with kids, distraught over everything, feeling helpless no where to turn, 6 year old acting out, 2 year old crying a lot, 6 year old pushes too many buttons (mom and dad were disciplined with spanking/physically as children-so it's what they know). Mom in desperation slaps child, breaks nose. Mom runs out of house scared, child follows, falls down steps, trip to ER # 2 Sunday.
DSS called, oldest child 6 year old immediately removed from home on a Sunday night. Younger sibling allowed to stay, no sign of abuse social worker believes it would be more detrimental to younger child to be removed at this point (which we all questioned, but this was the scenario).
At this point in real life, I started to feel like I was going to throw up. (call me a bleeding heart..whatever) I started getting nauseated watching this all happen and how easily a family can go from a happy, functioning family to this...because I can see this happening.
Watching "my child" taken and sat with a foster family...my eyes started welling with tears. The pain, the fear, the confusion, the quilt, the feelings that child must be feeling, I was feeling them all. And watching that child go sit on the "couch" beside Joey (he was foster dad #1)...made me realize....
THAT COULD SOON BE A REAL CHILD SITTING ON OUR COUCH IN THE MIDDLE OF A SUNDAY NIGHT.
scared.confused.afraid.wanting his/her parents back. Not having a clue who we are. Our house being strange, without it's sibling or mom or dad. Isolated. frightened. wondering what just happened. Wanting to go home and sleep in their own room.
Well within one day, the foster parents decided this child was a bad fit for their family (a reason was given) and sent the child to foster home #2. All the while, my heart breaking within my chest and pouring out to this "child" like salty water from my eyes. Loss of parents, sister, not wanted at foster home (even though the reasons of the foster parents was concern for their own daughter).
Did the birth parents make mistakes? Yes. Have I made mistakes? Yes. Do the parents need some support and help? Yes. Did I once need help and support? Yes. Do the parents love their children and want their family together. Yes. Does the child want to go home? Yes. Did a situation spiral out of control quickly? Yes. Should it have happened? No, but it did. And...
Just like that. There could be a little person, with a little broken scared heart sitting on our couch, in our living room.
Tonight's class made this whole thing so much more real to me.
And the "after-this" that came into play next had Joey and I talking last night about the realities of commitment this is going to take.
Some (a lot) of these children need counselling after they are placed with you. This is a weekly commitment on the foster parents part to schedule and get these children to those appointments. Then there are visitations, most birth parents want to see their children the next day under supervised conditions to reassure themselves and their child that everything is going to be ok. Visitations with parents are mandatory (under most circumstances) and it's the foster parents responsibility to get them there, it's healthy for the child to be in contact with their birth parents. There are SEVERAL court dates and social worker appointments as well.
Not to mention, this child could be from a different school district, or not have daycare arrangements in place if they were in the home with the mom like above, and those things take time and effort to procure and handle. Even though you are working with your case worker and they do everything they can to assist you as soon as possible, these things sometimes take a couple of days to get in place, or if the child came to you at midnight thirty, and most likely won't sleep well, they may need to just sleep the next day or just take a day to get themselves prepared to go back to school, and you may have to work out getting that child to that other school district and yourself to work on time.
I had considered the added responsibility of another child with teacher work days, conferences, doctor visits when sick, field trip days, sick days where if they were sick I would take off work and care lovingly for them, just as I would my own children, things I knew about that children would need. but...
There are aspects of this I hadn't considered. I didn't know to consider them.
What I do know, is I know Jesus came to earth and became a servant to help others. I know I want to be more like Him. I want to do what Jesus would do. I want to go deeper.
I asked Joey after extensive conversations about things that we learned tonight on the way home if he had any new reservations about this whole thing after tonight's class. To which he replied no, he's in this.
He is feeling the heartbreaks as well.
I adore my husband and the man he is, the husband he is, the father he is. But this entire thing we are learning about together and experiencing together is making me love him more than ever. He is so stinking HOT following the Lord, following his heart, following this thing that is so much bigger than both of us. I know that may not be "reverently phrased"...but it's true to me. ; ) There is something about a man who is willing to be vulnerable and to be compassionate to others, put children who have needs above comfort and ease that is super uper duper attractive to me.
There is something about him walking with Him that makes me want to love him more, and better and deeper.
Next week there is a guest speaker from Hospice coming to help us learn to deal/support/help with separation and loss children may suffer from this experience.
Thanking God for answered prayers tonight!
Monday, March 7, 2011
Class # 2 tomorrow
I am excited that Joey and I have date night fast food & foster parenting class tomorrow night. Last weeks class was so good...I am really looking forward to each one of them now. We have told the last of the immediate family about the classes with one very good supportive response from my brother and his wife, and one response with a few brief strange looks and "oh! really?" and then a quick change of the subject, kinda like when we told them I was pregnant with Payton-response. ; ) and that turned out ok...so I am sure once the initial shock/not understanding wears off they will be supportive as well.
I kind of understand. Society tells us we should work hard, earn nice stuff and live as comfortably as possible. So, I can see some people not getting this. But I know God is calling and shaping our hearts for more.
Last night Joey and I were filling out the paperwork/homework that's due for this class tomorrow, and it sparked some good conversations...and he put as one of his answers, he feels much compassion for sibling groups that have to be separated from each other, and that we need to realistically evaluated and talk about how many children we could possibly foster at one time. :O (Have I mentioned how A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. God is lately)...I know I probably have, because He is!!! We are feeling this may go along with me feeling a calling towards older kids no one wants as much...if there is a younger and older child, it's always easier to place the younger one...well, we may be considering trying to keep some of those sibling groups together!!!! We are going to approach this as we have each step so far, with much prayer.
I AM SOOO EXCITED!
The paper work we are filling out is like an FBI profile package! Some of the questions and the depth of them are crazy, but it's really getting Joey to open up and talk feelings with me...we even talked about his parents divorce last night, and him being able to relate to children about the devastation of the loss of family...and the confusion and guilt...
I'm telling you. God is amazing to me.
Update tomorrow after the class.
Hope your Monday was blessed!
and one response with a few brief strange looks and "oh! really?" and then a quick change of the subject, kinda like when we told them I was pregnant with Payton-response. ; ) and that turned out ok...so I am sure once the initial shock/not understanding wears off they will be supportive as well.I kind of understand. Society tells us we should work hard, earn nice stuff and live as comfortably as possible. So, I can see some people not getting this. But I know God is calling and shaping our hearts for more.
Last night Joey and I were filling out the paperwork/homework that's due for this class tomorrow, and it sparked some good conversations...and he put as one of his answers, he feels much compassion for sibling groups that have to be separated from each other, and that we need to realistically evaluated and talk about how many children we could possibly foster at one time. :O (Have I mentioned how A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. God is lately)...I know I probably have, because He is!!! We are feeling this may go along with me feeling a calling towards older kids no one wants as much...if there is a younger and older child, it's always easier to place the younger one...well, we may be considering trying to keep some of those sibling groups together!!!! We are going to approach this as we have each step so far, with much prayer.
I AM SOOO EXCITED!
The paper work we are filling out is like an FBI profile package! Some of the questions and the depth of them are crazy, but it's really getting Joey to open up and talk feelings with me...we even talked about his parents divorce last night, and him being able to relate to children about the devastation of the loss of family...and the confusion and guilt...
I'm telling you. God is amazing to me.
Update tomorrow after the class.
Hope your Monday was blessed!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I said I wasn't going to blog this..
I even told Joey last night as bad as I wanted to, I wasn't gonna....
BUT I AM....
Because it was funny and I want to remember it...
AND I WON'T....
For this to be funny, you have to realize, we play punch bug (WE USED TO REALLY PLAY PUNCH BUG back when I was tougher) so...well now we play poke bug....which sometimes we forget and still play "little-light" punches-bug. First one to see a volkswagen beetle gets one punch on the arm of the unsuspecting victim who doesn't see it, see a convertible get two punches...got all that?
So the other night, Tuesday after the class when we were having our really bonding deep conversations about foster-parenting and God...and 3 children...
I was in the middle of a really big thought, about how I feel God is using this whole thing to REALLY draw me closer to Him...in a way I have never felt before....and all of the sudden....
PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH! (punchpunchpunch) on my left arm, cause he's ever so carefully driving over there *and obviously captivated by my conversation, I might add. ; ) Then I realize ----we are riding past the old volkswagen grave yard where there are tons of retired VW beetles that's near where we worked when we met each other, and we always got each other playing punch bug there.
I very earnestly and cutely said, "Ya know, I bet God wouldn't appreciate you beating up His daughter, while she was trying to have a real honest, deep God moment with you". :p
to which he laughed that cute little boy laugh he has and said he was sorry. "Really baby I am sorry, I don't know why, it....just...I....I really was listening....and care....it was just...
I start in over top of him.. "Dear Lord God, OUR FATHER, I just hope you noticed how that all just went down right here. I was sitting here innocently sharing my heart with your son, and he started wailing on my arm like a brother and sister in the back seat of a car that are 5 years old"
We both laughed.
Then I asked him if we really needed more kids??? After we finished laughing, he convinced me he really did want to hear what I was saying. (only after he made sure he got me for those punch bugs b/c we rarely ride by them anymore!)
Love him!!!!
BUT I AM....
Because it was funny and I want to remember it...
AND I WON'T....
For this to be funny, you have to realize, we play punch bug (WE USED TO REALLY PLAY PUNCH BUG back when I was tougher) so...well now we play poke bug....which sometimes we forget and still play "little-light" punches-bug. First one to see a volkswagen beetle gets one punch on the arm of the unsuspecting victim who doesn't see it, see a convertible get two punches...got all that?
So the other night, Tuesday after the class when we were having our really bonding deep conversations about foster-parenting and God...and 3 children...
I was in the middle of a really big thought, about how I feel God is using this whole thing to REALLY draw me closer to Him...in a way I have never felt before....and all of the sudden....
PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH! (punchpunchpunch) on my left arm, cause he's ever so carefully driving over there *and obviously captivated by my conversation, I might add. ; ) Then I realize ----we are riding past the old volkswagen grave yard where there are tons of retired VW beetles that's near where we worked when we met each other, and we always got each other playing punch bug there.
I very earnestly and cutely said, "Ya know, I bet God wouldn't appreciate you beating up His daughter, while she was trying to have a real honest, deep God moment with you". :p
to which he laughed that cute little boy laugh he has and said he was sorry. "Really baby I am sorry, I don't know why, it....just...I....I really was listening....and care....it was just...
I start in over top of him.. "Dear Lord God, OUR FATHER, I just hope you noticed how that all just went down right here. I was sitting here innocently sharing my heart with your son, and he started wailing on my arm like a brother and sister in the back seat of a car that are 5 years old"
We both laughed.
Then I asked him if we really needed more kids??? After we finished laughing, he convinced me he really did want to hear what I was saying. (only after he made sure he got me for those punch bugs b/c we rarely ride by them anymore!)
Love him!!!!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Class Two! Tonight : )
I read all the way through the foster parenting book they gave us last night, in prep for the class tonight.
It was heartbreaking. I can't believe as much as I love children, I haven't ever taken notice of the need and benefits of this program before now. RIGHT.OUTSIDE.MY.DOOR. I could say, I wasn't spiritually mature enough or that I was being prepared for it...but the truth is...
I was God/family/self centered....living in my little bubble of "our happy family" and although thanking and prasing God for it each and everyday and giving Him 100% credit and glory for it being what HE made it...I was content just living comfortably that way. If everyone could/did put their family first there wouldn't be a need for foster parents, but there are children living right in our neighborhoods, schools counties in horrible living conditions. Reading some of the circumstances these children come from is almost unbearable to think about.
And I had been comfortable living blind. :-/
I know a while back someone on here had pictures of African children with big beautiful, but sad eyes and distended bellies...and while that too breaks my heart (and this is a pathetic excuse) but they seem so far away, like I could never do anything more than sponsor those children with money. That I could never "really help" them, other than financially. And while I am thankful for those with the hearts, faith and courage to go through the sometimes gruelling adoption processes of foreign countries...
I have been shown there are children right here that may need me & Joey.
My heart is awakening to the very real possibility that I may actually have hurt, abused, neglected, unloved or uncared for children in/through my home and heart before the end of the summer.
My heart is Awakening to a passion. Awakening to a calling. Awakening with excitement.
The packet explains so many things in depth, one of which how long it takes some children to warm up to you because of the prior parental/family relationships that weren't nurturing, loving or healthy and not to be discouraged or hurt by that, they are protecting themselves the best way they know how (oh don't I know the truth in that statement). Then, of course my mind is always going to the "what if levels", and I had a heart-wrenching thought about "what if" the child doesn't want to go back once we have it? (not at all pumping myself up above a natural mother, but honestly reading what some of these children come out of OH.MY.WORD!) And from there, the enemy tried to shoot fiery darts of doubt, that I may not be able to do this, what if it hurts too bad, what if.......blah blah blah
But I QUICKLY drowned him out with God's truth. The Bible says, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me and everything else I have applied from there has worked, so I am trusting Him.
I am so determined to give whatever child is placed with us a Love (1John4:8) filled/centered temporary home.
But I also found in that booklet last night, the ultimate goal of DSS and foster care is to provide a temporary loving safe home for children who have been displaced due to ___?____, (and the real true horror of the things that fill in that blank would startle you) and for DSS to work with the birth parents and foster parents to re-place the child with the birth parents as soon as safely possible. This process includes foster parents working with the birth parents providing co-parenting and visitation dates...visitation dates that often throughout the process throw the children back into a state of turmoil/confusion acting out and instability after the birth parent visits. I won't give the whole book to you, but my point being...
I am realizing already this isn't going to be comfortable, easy, neat nor without very much heartbreak. I am not going to be able to comfortably enjoy my happy little family and ignore the needs of others any longer because there are children around me who don't have that option. And they are CHILDREN!
I am realizing God is answering my prayer ~"Break my heart Lord for what breaks yours" and I am starting to see just the very beginning, just a small glimpse of what breaks His.
I am eager to see what God is shaping me into, because ultimately, this is in His hands. And I can't wait! He hasn't taken me anywhere yet, that was not good.
Jeremiah 18:1-4 This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the LORD: “Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.” So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
Isaiah 64:8 Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.
~melissa
It was heartbreaking. I can't believe as much as I love children, I haven't ever taken notice of the need and benefits of this program before now. RIGHT.OUTSIDE.MY.DOOR. I could say, I wasn't spiritually mature enough or that I was being prepared for it...but the truth is...
I was God/family/self centered....living in my little bubble of "our happy family" and although thanking and prasing God for it each and everyday and giving Him 100% credit and glory for it being what HE made it...I was content just living comfortably that way. If everyone could/did put their family first there wouldn't be a need for foster parents, but there are children living right in our neighborhoods, schools counties in horrible living conditions. Reading some of the circumstances these children come from is almost unbearable to think about.
And I had been comfortable living blind. :-/
I know a while back someone on here had pictures of African children with big beautiful, but sad eyes and distended bellies...and while that too breaks my heart (and this is a pathetic excuse) but they seem so far away, like I could never do anything more than sponsor those children with money. That I could never "really help" them, other than financially. And while I am thankful for those with the hearts, faith and courage to go through the sometimes gruelling adoption processes of foreign countries...
I have been shown there are children right here that may need me & Joey.
My heart is awakening to the very real possibility that I may actually have hurt, abused, neglected, unloved or uncared for children in/through my home and heart before the end of the summer.
My heart is Awakening to a passion. Awakening to a calling. Awakening with excitement.
The packet explains so many things in depth, one of which how long it takes some children to warm up to you because of the prior parental/family relationships that weren't nurturing, loving or healthy and not to be discouraged or hurt by that, they are protecting themselves the best way they know how (oh don't I know the truth in that statement). Then, of course my mind is always going to the "what if levels", and I had a heart-wrenching thought about "what if" the child doesn't want to go back once we have it? (not at all pumping myself up above a natural mother, but honestly reading what some of these children come out of OH.MY.WORD!) And from there, the enemy tried to shoot fiery darts of doubt, that I may not be able to do this, what if it hurts too bad, what if.......blah blah blah
But I QUICKLY drowned him out with God's truth. The Bible says, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me and everything else I have applied from there has worked, so I am trusting Him.
I am so determined to give whatever child is placed with us a Love (1John4:8) filled/centered temporary home.
But I also found in that booklet last night, the ultimate goal of DSS and foster care is to provide a temporary loving safe home for children who have been displaced due to ___?____, (and the real true horror of the things that fill in that blank would startle you) and for DSS to work with the birth parents and foster parents to re-place the child with the birth parents as soon as safely possible. This process includes foster parents working with the birth parents providing co-parenting and visitation dates...visitation dates that often throughout the process throw the children back into a state of turmoil/confusion acting out and instability after the birth parent visits. I won't give the whole book to you, but my point being...
I am realizing already this isn't going to be comfortable, easy, neat nor without very much heartbreak. I am not going to be able to comfortably enjoy my happy little family and ignore the needs of others any longer because there are children around me who don't have that option. And they are CHILDREN!
I am realizing God is answering my prayer ~"Break my heart Lord for what breaks yours" and I am starting to see just the very beginning, just a small glimpse of what breaks His.
I am eager to see what God is shaping me into, because ultimately, this is in His hands. And I can't wait! He hasn't taken me anywhere yet, that was not good.
Jeremiah 18:1-4 This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the LORD: “Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.” So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
Isaiah 64:8 Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.
~melissa
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