On the day...

Court should have been fast.. maybe 30 minutes, plus some waiting time for our case to get called. I skipped breakfast and was planning on grabbing some strawberry french toast at IHOP on the way home.

Instead, we went before the judge and argued until it was decided that it would take too long for our judge to try. So he sent us to "Presiding court" which means we go downstairs, wait for our case to be called and we'll get whatever judge happens to be available from the large pool of judges.

So we waited.
And waited.
At about 11:30 they told us to come back at 1:30 to get a set judge/location.
Everyone else went back to work but since I'm further away I walked the streets of San Antonio. Saw the riverwalk, wandered into San Fernando cathedral - a beautiful building with historical meaning, but still (once the tour group left) a peaceful place to pray and sit quietly before God.
Went back at 1:30 and we were assigned a room and a judge (I was told that if I couldn't have the judge we originally had, he was the next best thing).
2:00pm we finally got going. They'd scheduled 1.5 to 2 hours for us.
We finished at 6:30pm.

We won. God won. I just sat there. Singing praise songs in my mind. Sometimes shaking my head at stupid witness statements, and trying not to get too frustrated with one really obnoxious attorney.
There were 4 attorneys there. Each representing different clients. Each arguing with very different styles. I've got a lot of respect for 3 of them (Especially the attorney for the baby - Thank you Ms Christine!). That 4th obnoxious one will never win me over I think.

I came home, held Precious and told her how important this day was to her. She blew spit bubbles and kicked her feet. She is 7 months old today. She is one step closer to safe.

God did the impossible today.
If I weren't me, I wouldn't even have ruled in our favor.
I'm still amazed that the judge did. (Thank you Judge Sakai)
God is worth trusting.

On the eve.

Tomorrow is the day we go to court for Precious. 9am Monday central time.

I was up during the night with her, because she's been sick, fever and stuffy nose primarily.
I laid down for a nap this afternoon and I remember waking up several times to people in my living room still singing along to worship songs.
And while they sang praises... - 2 Chronicles 20:22

I had purposed to sing praises this afternoon and others came over and joined (most unsuspectingly when they walked in the door and discovered they'd walked into an impromptu worship time) but at some point, just a few songs in I ran out of words and praise. I just want this child delivered. Delivered safely away from an enemy that lies at her door seeking to hurt her.

I remember looking outside, it was a cool rainy day here, and wondering what God was doing. Was today really the day that God did a mighty work for her so that tomorrow when we go up we'll simply reap the spoils of Gods deliverance of Precious?

He's done a lot for me this past week. He's promised a lot, spoken a lot, and been more than enough sufficiency.
I trust Him.
I am overwhelemed.
I trust Him.

Post 3 - Gods Love - The love of God is greater far...

In the deepest recesses of my absolute being something inside me cries out simply this: "Dear God, please let her be mine."

I'm living, right now, every moment as a gift and am jealously guarding them not wanting to lose time, precious time, numbered time, with Precious. I've loved children before. Loved and returned them back to their original owners. One time before I looked at one child as different, the bond was different, stronger than it had been with some of the other kids I'd fostered. But the time came and I let her go.

I didn't get into foster parenting to adopt. But every once in awhile, someone comes along to change that.

Before I ever met Precious in NICU, before I donned the yellow surgical gown and washed my hands, there was something deep inside me that was anxious to get to her. There was something that said she was mine and that I was not where I should be when I finally received news she was being placed with me and that I could visit her at 8pm when the visiting hours re-opened. On my very first visit, driving to the hospital, I looked down at my speedometer and discovered that I was going 85 miles per hour. I wouldn't have been able to tell you why except that she was in a scary, foreign world to me called NICU and that I needed to be there.

I stayed late that night, holding, looking, feeling the scary symptoms of things I'm not allowed to name.
She came into my home, and I rocked her, and held her, and she was mine.

I loved her before I knew her, and I wouldn't even be able to tell you how that was even possible.

But a couple of weeks ago I finally loved her enough. I began to love her the way she deserves to be loved by me.

I've prayed for every child in my home, and I have prayed for Precious.

But I've also prayed for every childs parents and I have not prayed for the parents of Precious. And finally, a couple of weeks ago, with anguish of heart I prayed that prayer. I prayed it earnestly. Sincerely. I prayed for Gods perfect will in their lives, that the enemy attacking their lives would be bound and the chains holding so tightly onto the parents would be broken.

Even now, it hurts to even type those words. I want to cry.

But there was something in praying it, and finally being able to mean it, that released me. It released in me the joy of knowing that I am doing every single thing I possibly can for this intensely precious and wonderful little being that God so .... wonderfully, graciously... amazingly.. put into my home.

Precious is my here and now, but God is my eternity. I will love God more than I love her. I will obey Him, and serve Him with all of my being even when it contradicts what my heart that loves her wants to do. I will desire Him more than I so deeply desire her. And after releasing MY desires for her and placing them in Gods hands and praying HIS desires for the situation I discovered that I am loving her with GODS love, rather than just my own. A concept I've heard another preacher (Matt Chandler) talk about before but never quite grasped.

So tonight as I held her and softly patted her back, I whispered in her ear over and over again "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." and part of my intelligent mind said "Maybe I should be saying "Jesus loves you" so that she'll grow up hearing those words as well?"

And I realized... with a bit of amazement... that I'd told her just that.

Post 2: Gods Love - Restrained to rest.

I hate being restrained.

I'm not a freak out claustrophobic type person at all, but if you pin my arms my whole body goes into stress mode. So I need to keep in mind while I'm writing this that I'm not talking about physical restraints.
But tonight, in church, Precious was determinedly fighting sleep. She'd lay her head on my chest then shift to look to the left, look to the right, pick her head up and look at me, lay it down again then start the whole process over again.

This carried on until I did something that I hate to do - probably more because of my own feelings of how much I'd hate it - I restrained her head. It wasn't hard, I simply placed my hand on the back of her head and when she tried to pick it up and look the other way she wasn't able to.

She struggled for maybe 10 seconds. Then she laid her head down and fell asleep.

And I began to wonder, in what ways has God restrained me so that I would rest? What options has He shoved out of my reach, oppressed me financially, or overloaded me with OT at work so that I couldn't have more things to do, fiddle with, distract myself with, instead of just resting in Him.

I was talking with my bother today about how I see Gods love in how I feel about Precious, and then to make her unhappy for a few seconds, seconds that she didn't understand were for her benefit, for her gain, for her health... I began to wonder how much of my life, my problems, and my burdens were for a blessed benefit that I'll never have the intelligence to look back and understand.

Oh how He loves us.

Changing lives...

It's 3am in the morning. I've just finished feeding foster baby #8.
Even having heard the crazy numbers of how some foster families have had 100 kids go through their home, it's still mind-blowing to me that I'm on number  8. And still more to come.

And as I've tucked, and wiped, and held little "Precious" and struggled with the stress that always is single parenting I've suddenly fallen quiet as I find myself deep in thought.

I've prayed sometimes that God would end the struggle. God, make life easier somehow. I'm tired of always struggling. It's been great, it's been a joy it's been beautiful and wonderful but hey God, it's a lot of work this whole "life" thing that you've called me to.

And I couldn't help but wonder if He was willing to do it. But it would cost me the great, the joy, the beautiful and wonderful. And as I carried insanely heavy car seats, worried about ECI visits (Early Childhood Intervention -a program that provides therapy for delayed children), and paid over-the-top prices just for diapers for Precious to poop in, I realized I never wanted to give this up. That I only wanted more.

And as I looked at other peoples well-put-together lives, I realized that I didn't want that. Yes, it appears to be struggle free, but I didn't want it. I want the outlandish life. The life that has messy floors, and diapers sitting in the corner of my kitchen floor (because the kitchen sink is our own little bathtub area). I want others to live young, single lives and wonder at my choice to live as a young single mother to other peoples children. I want others to wonder why on earth I'm considering taking in an 18 month old while I'm just now adjusted to a 2 month old.

I want to look harried, sleepless, tired, and as though I don't have the same amount of time for hygiene as I used to if it means that I successfully gave my life away to something so much greater than leisure time and hobbies and never having to watch Teletubbies. I want to live a life full of struggle if the reward for that struggle is that I held these children, I loved these children, I got to tell these children about peace and joy, and a man named Jesus.

I want my life to reach beyond me.