please excuse the tears

If you happen to see me out and about, please don't be surprised if tears surface at unexpected and seemingly irrational moments.

I'm in the process of letting go of a little boy I love.

I went in to retrieve the little boy from his bed the other morning and called out his name.  He shot up and stated with a big grin, "I'm right here!  Did you miss me?"  I held him tight for a full 10 minutes.  It didn't matter that we had somewhere to go.

I dropped him off at a visit with his mom and as we were driving there, I talked to him about all the fun he was going to have.

"Ms. Terra?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I gonna miss you."

I hid my tears behind my sunglasses.  Oh goodness, buddy, I'm gonna miss you too.  More than you'll ever know.

This is the reason people say, "I don't know how you do it!"  Because you love and, likely, have to let go.  This little boy becomes a part of the family, the routines, the joy, the laughter, the chaos.  We all become accustomed to the imperfect and yet precious family unit, with him fully included.  And then, he is gone.

We trust that God is faithful to us at all times.  We know that He has allowed us to join Him in loving His children and we are grateful for this ministry.  Even through these times we know He is worthy of every bit of pain or sacrifice we endure for His purposes.  And we praise Him for this opportunity to love this little boy, to love his family.

And still, knowing and believing all that, raw emotions may surface at unexpected and seemingly irrational moments.  So please excuse the tears.

Letting go is so very hard to do.

reflections

We're at the great divide, transitioning our little man home.  We have a mere week or two left.  Tears fall easily and frustrations occur often; emotions are running on overload.

There is a strong desire to never let him go, and yet the opposing urge for him to be home with his mom and siblings.  We have felt great aggravation when choices are made that are not the very best for him, yet we know that he is not ours and we really have no say about his future.  We battle through our own emotions as we help him struggle with the transitions back and forth between our home and his mom's - two very different worlds.  We're trying to give him stability and security when, in reality, there is no such thing in his young life right now.  He's just too young to understand.

There is the yearning for this never to end for our sake ... and the urge for it to end soon, for his; such a range of challenging, opposing, and conflicting emotions.

It is during this time of transition that I have reflected much upon our time with our sweet foster son.  His "placement" with us seemed to be a bit more bumpy than others, starting with the unexpected transition to a long term placement, rather than the anticipated short term.  We were suddenly thrust into a county system that we had not worked with before, and it proved to be quite demanding and aggravating on several occasions.    I found myself fighting the system on behalf of our boy more than I've ever had to fight before.  Our own 2 toddlers seemed to not adjust well to our new addition, who also wanted much of our lap time and attention.  The girls demonstrated their feelings quite extravagantly on many occasions.  There were many days I was emotionally worn and weary.

In the midst of those overwhelming moments and as we struggle through letting him go, doubts can start to invade my mind, "Was any of this worth it?"

Well, of course it has been.

There is a little boy who has been loved ever so deeply by so many.  And most notably, he was able to experience the incredibly strong, protective, devoted love of a father for the first time.

Our big kids have been able to practice selfless love - not perfectly,  but repeatedly.

And even these 3 have grown in their care and concern and love for one another.  Yes, there are still those moments, but also moments of love and acceptance and sharing.  Carys has especially taken to him as her buddy, and I'm not quite sure how she'll respond to his imminent departure.

Then there are the opportunities like this, that I happened to walk in on, that mean everything.
Colson: "And that's how much Jesus loves you, J.  One day when you're older, you can choose to commit your life to Him and follow Him.  He will always be with you!"

And precious moments when he is eager and excited to pray.

And beyond those beautiful moments that sprout up in the midst of dry, hard and weary times, there was a beautiful reminder recently that fostering little ones affects more than the kiddos within our own home.

At a recent meeting with all those involved in the case, J's mom burst into tears.  "Thank you.  Thank you so much for teaching my kids about God, because they bring it home with them."  She then explained a situation during a visit when the kids declared, "Mom, we gotta pray!"  They grasped tightly to her hands and she prayed with her children.

It's not easy.  But we are so thankful that God has given us this work to do.  J is worth it.  J's family is worth it.  God is worthy of all.

For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.  Ephesians 2:10

letting go

Arms were made for hugging.

Hands were made for holding.

We have loved the moments we've had to hug and hold our little man.

But, our time is coming to an end.

We are starting the transition to his home with his family.

The weeks ahead will be hard, 

but we rest in the One who will sustain us.

And rejoice that we had the opportunity of loving His precious child.

same words, different tune

"And I'll give all myself!  And I'll give all myself to YOOOOOOOUUUUU!"  she belts out boisterously from within the constraints of her car seat in the back of the van.

I adjust my rearview mirror so that I can watch her - arms raised, eyes scrunched tightly closed, head swaying side to side, and singing with all her heart, in full Carys fashion.

As is common, a tidal wave of emotion engulfs me.  My mind wanders back in time...

A phone call.

A baby in need.

A heart that is hesitant and afraid of hurting, but knows the answer is "yes".  

A God who promises His presence and comfort and sustenance.

A love that flourishes and explodes for a tiny, sickly baby girl as she experiences love and provision for the very first time.

A painful knowing that she must leave us, and a constant struggle to accept His will.

Holding, rocking, cuddling and singing, "And I'll give all myself, and I'll give all myself, and I'll give all myself to You.... " over and over and over again, trying to force myself to surrender my heart and my desires for this baby girl to a GOD who loves her more than I.

A GOD who is more mighty and powerful than I could ever imagine.  A God, in His great sovereignty,  whose plan was more wonderful than I could ever dream.

And there she is - now my very own precious daughter, singing the same words that I once sang while preparing to lose her... but in a tune and style all her own.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

baby love

 We had a wonderful opportunity to love on a precious little one last month and it was so good for us in so many ways.  We're going through some tough stages with our toddlers... with two 2 year olds and a 3 year old there are a lot of tantrums, a lot of jealousy and a lot of competition.  Some of the personalities/behaviors have a way of rubbing others the wrong way... and I often wonder when peace will be restored and love will be found once again between certain siblings.  It has been hard and exhaustive at times for this mama.  BUT, thank God for babies...

Babies have a way of drawing sweetness, love, adoration and care out of each and every child in my home.  It was soothing to my soul to see every one of my 6 kiddos tend gently and carefully to the sweet baby girl.  She had a way of uniting my 3 toddlers, and allowing my big 3 to love a little one without being rejected or screamed at.

It was a great feeling to see so much love pour out of the kiddos as we were of one mind loving on this sweet little baby.  It also helped that she is a GREAT baby who easily fit into the family.  Thank you so very much, Buntrock family, for trusting us with your littlest love.  We can't wait until the next time!

Daddy's Day

As children, we may not have realized how incredibly blessed we were.  

We had Daddies that loved us, were committed to their family, whom showered us with fun, affection and affirmation.  They protected us, taught us, developed our character, spoke of our immense value to them, directed us towards our God-given purpose in the world, and were our reliable, faithful, stable, secure rock.

Then HE became "Daddy", and it was the most beautiful thing in all the world to me.

He poured himself out to them, following the example he had seen lived before him all his life long  - patience, encouragement, fun, laughter, discipline, praise, provision, protection.

And they flourished in his love and protection.

God pierced our hearts for those who knew not of the love, protection and commitment of a father, 

and He sent them to our home.

They got to be loved and adored by such an amazing Daddy.

And they, too, flourished.

In recent months, we've been evermore reminded of the irreplaceable value of a father.

Fatherless children have melted in the warm and strong love Jim has poured upon them.

Today, we know how blessed we were.  

We celebrate the amazing men that we call "Dad", "Papa" and "Poppy".

To this day, they remain our greatest fans - supporting, encouraging, and loving us wholeheartedly.  We are so incredibly grateful.

And we celebrate the one these kiddos get to call "Daddy".  We praise God for the leader, husband and father that he is.  We could not love him more.

”A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty.”

”Small boys become big men through the influence of big men who care about small boys.”

”A man never stands as tall as when he kneels to help a child.”

”A father carries pictures where his money used to be.” 

”I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s protection.”

”It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.”

press on

I sat in the church pew, a filled communion cup clutched in my hand.  Though the morning had been full of wiggles and whispers from my children beside me, at this time they were quiet and still.  I stared at the small cup intently, reflecting on it's purpose.

Bloodshed, suffering, pain.

He so loved, that He gave His life.

I remembered the grotesque descriptions of the suffering He endured and the instruction, "take up your cross and follow Me."

In the moment I remained in quite an emotional state, where tears came easily and there was an ever present aching in my heart.  The shock of the day that B was removed from our home lingered, and her absence was felt deeply.  It hurt and the tears stung.  But, I remembered...

If I am to take up a cross in following Him, then pain and suffering should be expected.  I know this, but it's hard to live it.  While we desire to "pour ourselves out" and "die to self" while following His lead and loving His children, sometimes it's ugly and uncomfortable and messy and painful. And because of that, it's easier to want to walk away and shield our hearts than to press on.  I have struggled with this quite a bit in the past week.

What have we done to our family, our kids, our poor B?

What scars will remain from the trauma, confusion and pain of that day?

What if it were to happen again with sweet, little J?  Could our hearts bear it?


Yet, as I reflected upon Christ's suffering on my behalf, I felt a renewed resolve to persevere.  We have been entrusted with so many who need to be loved passionately.  I don't want to hold back for fear of pain, of loss, of heart ache.  There is so much beauty and purpose to be experienced in walking in obedience and I don't want to miss it, even if it hurts and costs and leads us to frightening places.

So, as we continue our journey into the future, I will reflect on His instructions to "take up my cross and follow" and "lay down my life to find it"... if this is what He asks of me, then I need to be prepared for some pain on the adventure that will bring me, ultimately, face to face with my Savior.

He gave His life for me, I want to live for Him.

We will love, because He loved us first.

We will grow weak and weary, but He will strengthen us.

So, we press on.

one less

Raw and reeling.

It's something we've always dreaded, but we have never had happen. Until now.

B's gone.  They took her, just like that.  It wasn't what we wanted, anything we had asked for and nothing we were prepared for, but it happened.  Our heads are still spinning and our hearts are aching.  

Some incident on behalf of B and J's family of origin prompted a phone call that changed the course of this journey completely.  Rather than return home to their mom in just a week, all 6 of the children (we had 2 of the siblings) were now going into the foster care system; the very thing that we were trying to prevent by taking them in and giving them a safe place while health was restored back in their home.  But health was not restored, and the call stated that B and J would need to be moved into foster care, THAT VERY DAY.

I was sure that the CPS worker only needed some information to understand, so I informed her that we were, in fact, also a foster family and would be willing to keep the children with us for a time being while court proceedings commenced and a course of action was determined.  The children were safe, protected, healthy, loved and quite secure in our home and there was no reason to interrupt that immediately.  However she did not agree because, she stated, "that is not how the system works".  She insisted that, for legal compliance, they needed to be placed in a long term foster home before the day was done.

All our explaining, arguing, reasoning, begging and pleading could do nothing to change the course for these little ones who had been a part of our family for 9 weeks.  We had no power or authority.  But we had tears, we had feelings, we had emotions, we had objections, we had opinions.  In the 9 weeks we had been family, a deep love for them formed and grew.  And love protects.

But our hands were tied and we couldn't protect, though fight it we did.

When we got the next phone call to confirm the plan I was told, "We found a home for B, but not J, so we're keeping him with you long term.  I'll be there in a half hour."  I was so upset I handed the phone to Jim while choking back tears and muttering, "Taking B, half hour..."

In that time, I carried 4 yr. old B around on my hip like a baby, speaking all the truths into her little ears that I wanted to her to remember as we packed her bags.

"We love you so much, B, I am so sorry this is happening.  This is not what we want.  Though we can't go with you, God will be with you wherever you go and He loves you even more than we do.. He made you in a wonderful way, with incredible purpose, B... He made you smart and happy and energetic and helpful and silly and fun... you have so much to give to this world... Remember you can always talk to God and tell Him if you're scared or sad... He cares so much for you and He listens when you talk to Him..."  She was silent with her head resting on my shoulder.  I couldn't even bear the thought of what was swirling around in that little head of hers.  I desperately wanted her to understand this crude plan was NOT our choice.  We would never choose to have her yanked suddenly from her place of security, safety and love.  That is not what love does.

But, it was obvious when the social worker arrived, that love was not a part of the equation.  There was a job to get done and a weekend to begin.  She was not interested in all the wonderful things we had to share about this little girl she was transplanting, and did not seem affected by all the intense emotions that surrounded her; she wanted papers signed and bags transferred to her vehicle.  "I'm sorry, it's just the way it has to be," she kept saying.

Chaos abounded in those moments.  The other kids were falling apart.  Tender hearted Ky was sobbing inconsolably, but had the sense about her to wake up the sleeping brother to say good bye to his sister.  We loved, we hugged, we prayed.  We were desperate and felt so helpless, so weak.  This was so senseless, so cruel.

I had played the role of "mommy" in her life for 9 weeks and couldn't tell her where she was going or explain why she had to go.  I couldn't promise she would be OK, because I didn't know, and certainly this was hurting our confused little girl deep within.  After telling her repeatedly that we loved her and would protect her from harm, I now had no power to protect her any longer.  Instead, I was forced to witness this little one I loved experience a heart breaking, gut wrenching act.

"Can you come with me?"  She asked when I buckled her in, covering her in hugs and kisses.  

"I go home too?"  J was asking from within the protection of Jim's arms.  He had to be equally confused about all that was transpiring.  Why was she leaving?  Why was he not going with?

"Be strong for her, Tee," Jim prompted with tears streaming down his cheeks, "she needs you to be strong."  I felt anything but.

We all said good bye and wrapped her in love and hugs before she was taken away into the great unknown.  She wasn't being placed with siblings, as had been promised.  She was all alone.

Our hearts just couldn't bear it.  We felt broken, sickened, confused, angered; our hearts were raw, sore and painfully exposed.  We gathered the remaining 6 children and held onto each other tightly.  We cried and we hurt together as a family, with one less.

If we didn't hurt so bad,

then we didn't do it right.

- Jennie Allen

(thanks for the quote, Joy!)

His eye is on the sparrow

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies?

Yet not one of them is forgotten by God.

Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Luke 12:6-7

Only 2 weeks remain with our little B and J and we are feeling it.

At times, I do long for moments again with my little family and look forward to quieter, simpler days, less competition for attention and fewer squabbles with the little ones. There will be less diapers to change, fewer meals to prepare, diminished need for constant supervision, shorter bedtime routines, half the number of buckles to buckle as we jump into and out of the van, and a little less busyness to keep up with.

But mostly, I ache.  

I ache because I know where they are going, the pain they have experienced and the fears that they have.  They have come to love and adore having a "daddy" and they will be without, once again.  They have come to love structure, thrive within boundaries, speak lovingly and use words rather than their hands; they've developed a love to help, a passion for our traditions and routines, an affection for our imperfect family and the way we function with security, stability, mistakes, grace, forgiveness and love.  "Home" will be so different for them, but it is their home.

And I ache because I will miss them.  We have come to know and love one another deeply, in a way that can only develop with time.  We have seen each other at our worst and our best; we've cried, prayed, laughed, argued, tickled, disciplined, and chased.  We've experienced every variety of emotion imaginable together and yet, we tell each other often, "I love you!"  And we do.  

I talk with them often about the upcoming transition and many tears have been shed.  Preparing big hearts is hard; preparing little hearts is harder.  There is confusion, frustration, fears, bed wetting, guilt and longing.  There is bargaining taking place - perfection being attempted to try and "earn" a right to stay, followed often by acting out - hoping to frustrate us and test our love for them, "earning" the right to leave.

It is hard not to worry about the future of these little ones God has allowed me to mother for this time.   I want the best for them.  And, yet, He reminds me that they are not forgotten, they are dearly loved and known by their Maker.  They are His, and HE is so much better at loving and caring for them than I.

So as we prepare for our little ones to go and we battle together through a plethora of emotions, I trust Him.  And I remember that His eye is on the sparrow...

a better mother's day

It was a different kind of Mother's Day than what I had envisioned or had been planned for, but I believe it was the very kind we were intended to have.

I had a beautiful morning of breakfast, cards and homemade gifts; older children were trying to be helpful and good; little ones were crying, demanding, climbing on my lap and stealing my eggs. :)  It is our life and I love it.

I had been fighting for awhile for B and J to have time with their mom, as we feel strongly it is in their best interest to maintain a relationship with her, regardless of her desires.  I was a little frustrated that Mother's Day was chosen as the day, when 7 weeks had passed with no contact, but I recognized my selfishness and moved forward in helping B and J make Mother's Day special for their mama.

However, there is nothing comfortable about trying to pry a 2 1/2 year old off your leg and forcing him to give a hug to his mom.  Nothing.  "It will just take time, he hasn't seen you in awhile," I tried to comfort her, as she was concerned with his detachment to her.  Thankfully, in an environment like Chuck-E-Cheese, there are many things to distract a young child with, especially a little boy who loves pizza and soda!  Within time, J was more adjusted and B was running around wildly with her older siblings and I was able to slip out to rejoin the family back at home.

Though I received a phone call in less than an hour stating that the kids were ready to come back, Jim was adamant about the agreed upon 4 hours and stated we'd pick them up later.  They will be going home soon... they needed to spend time with their mama.

We had a glorious several hours hiking in the woods and I loved it!!  I'm a nature girl at heart and the sites, smells and sounds of the forest were just divine!

Soon our time was up and we were on our way to the address we'd been given to pick up the kiddos. As we pulled up to the apartment complex on a busy road, kids were running to and fro.  We saw the familiar face of our little B on a patio with several other young kids who were fighting ferociously with one another, throwing punches and kicking shins with everything they had.  When we approached, they stared at us wide eyed, except for B who threw her arms around us for a quick hug before running off again and disappearing into one of the many apartments.

Though it was quite a while before we saw the kids we'd come for or their mama, there was no time wasted!  In a moment, Jim and the boys were throwing a football with 15 other eager young boys and Kylee and I had children clambering all over us, wanting to be held and talked to.  We heard story upon story about their young little lives.  While Ky lavished attention on a half dozen little girls full of longing, a 6 year old boy yanked on my hand and asked, "will you hold me?"  Nearby, my littlest girls were running around being chased by enthusiastic preschoolers. 

As we talked and played we saw and we felt it - the desire, the craving, the young independence, the hard and tough little spirits wanting to be loved, affirmed, given attention. Not a parent in sight.  We knew this was where we were meant to be and what we were meant to be doing, even on this Mother's Day that I had selfishly wanted to be "mine".  So we loved, we played, we talked, held and chased. We were doing it together as a family and there was no better way for us to be spending our time.

When it was time to go, we were getting the 7 kids buckled into the van and found ourselves surrounded by kids trying to jump in and wanting to come along.  "Can I please come too?  I be real good, real good, I promise!"  It was hard to tell them no, but we were sure there was someone somewhere who would want them home eventually.

As we drove off, we waved to tearful little faces, which was cause for many tearful faces within our van.  "Mom, this is so hard, I don't want to leave!  Can we come back tomorrow and play again?  Can we come back everyday?" Ky asked as she waved and wiped away tears.  Hearts had been pierced.  Love, compassion and understanding were flowing.  How grateful we were to spend the time in B and J's neighborhood.  We were all the more desperate to lavish love upon them in the weeks we had left.

It was the perfect way to spend our Mother's Day and one I will remember always.

Daddies Needed

I just can't wrap my mind around it.

I am constantly blown away by the infatuation the newest little ones have with "Daddy".

They love and adore him, because he has loved and adored them.  Though they are "supposed" to call him by his name, they just can't help themselves.  To them, it is the first time they've been able to use the name "Daddy" and they love it.

They race with the other kids to be the first to greet him at the door upon his arrival from work, screaming "Daddy!!!!" with so much excitement I think they're going to burst.  It is quite the sight to see the man I love completely overtaken by 7 squealing children.  It is a beautiful, colorful, tender and lively scene.  I am flooded with affection and fondness for the man every time.

Twice Jim has traveled for work while B and J have been with us.  Each time, B struggles.  "He's supposed to come home every night to his family, and I'm a part of his family!"  Bedtime isn't as special  to her when "Daddy's" tickles and bedtime stories are absent, and every night he's been away there have been tears.

These precious little ones are reminding me time and time again how invaluable faithful, committed daddies are.  They provide such stability, security and safety to life.  Their strong, gentle and affirming love is like no other on earth.

With their return home on the horizon, we've been trying to talk more and more about it.  Little B articulated one of my worst fears one afternoon as we talked, "But, Ms. Terra, I don't got no Daddy at home."

Oh, how my heart broke.  With a quivering chin I scrambled for words to say, but they felt empty, "I'm sorry, sweetie.  I know that will be hard...."

"But," she interrupted,  "I got a Daddy in God."

I embraced her and cried.  A Father to the fatherless is God in His holy dwelling. 


Daddies are needed.  There are children everywhere living without the security and safety and comfort they provide.  It has been so wonderful to see these children thrive with the love of a father, and amazing to see Jim exemplifying for them the way their Heavenly Father loves them - exceedingly, abundantly, completely.  It is no small task.  But it is life changing.

today - day 3

The Good:

B is learning to say "I'm sorry."

I made it to a play date with all 4 younger kids.

B "helped" with the laundry.

Both B and J are responding better to the limits and boundaries we have in place.

They both ate everything that was offered and made no requests for candy and soda.

J continues to be a complete cuddle bug and melts into us when we hold him.

B is responding well to positive correction and lots of love.

Our 5 kids continue to love and enjoy having B and J here!!

I was able to vacuum, do dishes, cook dinner and get 6 loads of laundry completed!

Getting B and J to sleep at bedtime only took 45 minutes tonight, rather than 1.5 - 2 hours!

B is now coming to us for affection and is opening up more.

They love to be tickled and have some of the best giggles.

The Bad:

Neither B or J could nap today, which made for a difficult afternoon.

There's no room for our new friends in the children's program at bible study, so I will have to discontinue the remainder of the year.

B loves being loved, but is challenging the limits to the love.

Two more things were broken today - working on treating things with respect.

B relayed some "owies" from her past that were hard to hear.

Carys was heard using the word "booty" and phrase "shut up".

I think my adrenaline is running out.

The Bittersweet:

I still haven't found "the grease" to do B's hair, but she was OK with an olive oil substitute.

B says she thinks she looks like me.

Today, we became "mama" and "daddy" to both B and J.

B "never wants to leave".

tough

Arms folded tightly across her chest, she gives me the stare down.  She sits upright in bed and communicates definitively with her eyes, "I will not lie down. I have no interest in doing what you say.  I will fight you and I intend to win."  No words are needed.  Her jaw is set and she is one determined and tough little girl.  She had proven it all day long - challenging, defying, pushing buttons.

"I understand, B.  You didn't ask to come here and you probably don't want to be here.  Everything is new and scary.  I'm sure you miss your mommy, and I know she misses you too.  She loves you, B, and we love having you here."

Eyes still set on mine, she jerks clenched little fists quickly up to her eyes, one right after the other, to wipe away tears she doesn't want me to see.  Because, you know, she's tough and will not let her guard down.  She's a fighter and weakness will not be allowed.

Soon my own cheeks are streaked and, unlike our new little love, I don't try to hide them.  Because I see before me a broken, hurt, alone and afraid little girl, no matter how she tries to disguise it.  My heart hurts for her.  This time when I scoop her up, she doesn't act repulsed and pull away.  Though her frown remains and her arms are still crossed, she lets me hold her.  Slowly, her head drops to my chest and her body relaxes.  It was our first break through.

2nd day with 7

Today felt glorious.  Busy, but glorious.  

We made it to church on time.

Our newest little additions did so very well in their classrooms.

We ate lunch out (Costco) and the kids were ecstatic.

We came home to dress up, ride bikes and play pet shop.

Naps actually happened today!

We had more outdoor play time, a dance party, bedtime tickle fights and SO MUCH  laughter.  

No one battled food today!

Little B is becoming more responsive to instruction!

Big boy J was talking in nearly full sentences!

Our 5 are still enjoying and loving the time with our friends here.

The kids are becoming more and more comfortable and bonding is definitely happening.

My heart was full and I felt ever so grateful to God for blessing us with such an opportunity to love.

Today was a really good day.