All I want

I'm listening to Mariah Carey sing "All I want for Christmas is you" as I type this - I was searching youtube for a not-so-awful video of it (for a fun family-type song, she doesn't always dress and act in a fun family-type way in the videos).  Here it is! Enjoy!

Have you been asked the question yet? "What do you want for Christmas?"

I have. And my answer, much to the frustration of the asker, was simple.

I want Precious.

All that I have, of any value, I've sold, or am willing to sell and just haven't gotten around to it yet. If you buy me something valuable for Christmas - I'm terribly sorry if it offends you, but if it's nice enough I'll probably sell it. Everything I have, all of me, is all about getting her. She must be bought with a price.

But as I thought about the givers in my life, those people that want to wrap up something I'd enjoy and hand it to me... I began to wonder about something. There is great joy in giving. But, we tend to want to give what we want to give.
My sister-in-law Glenda was recently pestered by her boss to tell her what she wanted for her birthday. The answer -  a giftcard to Wal-Mart. What did she receive? A gift-card to Ross.
Why ask if you aren't going to give it?

Because the giver felt they knew what was best. They had something in mind as what was good enough, right enough, useful enough, that they understood what the receiver should actually have if one were to cut through all the niceties of what people actually say they want and what they really could use.

I can't envision anyone in my family wanting to just wrap up five bucks and say hey, you want Precious - here is what we can do to help you get Precious. No. they want to buy stuff, or make stuff, or do stuff. Because it feels more like a gift. I understand this because that is exactly the sort of thing I would do myself.

And as I sat here thinking "I want Precious", the implications of it were...at least to me... rather intense.

I want her to be mine. Oh, she IS mine already. That is as established in my heart as if it were carved in diamond. But I want everything about her to be mine. I want to give her my name. I want her papers to say she is mine. I want to take the word "foster" out of  "foster daughter". I want to be able to stand before God and man and make a covanant before God to raise her. I want her to be fully, absolutely, completely, no strings or red tape attached, mine.

God wants me.

I want to give Him time reading my Bible, He wants me to be willing to just sit in His presence and listen for Him.
I want to give Him a hundred orphans saved, He wants me to spend time just talking to Him, walking with Him.
I want to give Him a perfect me - one that doesn't sin, or think rude thoughts, or give up when I want to be lazy. He wants a me that simply desires Him.

I look at Precious and I say "I want you" it has nothing to do with her growing, developing. All I think of is simply be mine - ob child, be fully mine!
I want her to grow but I simply want her to be mine. I will help her grow. I will hold her hands and show her how to stand, I will help her move her legs and learn walking motions. I will repeat words over and over and over again so that eventually her little beautiful lips will speak them to me. I will give her foods that change from milk to soft, to meat so that her body will grow and change, and strengthen.

All she must do is simply be mine.
She need not worry about anything else.
I will raise my child.

All I must do is simply be Gods.
I need not worry about anything else.
He will raise His children.

Isaiah 55


Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.

Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness.

Incline your ear, and come unto me: hear, and your soul shall live; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David.
Behold, I have given him for a witness to the people, a leader and commander to the people.
Behold, thou shalt call a nation that thou knowest not, and nations that knew not thee shall run unto thee because of the LORD thy God, and for the Holy One of Israel; for he hath glorified thee.
Seek ye the LORD while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near:
Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the LORD, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:
So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.

For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree: and it shall be to the LORD for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.

Loving Buddies, loving God.

It's midnight.

I'm not the type to stay up late either. But I just can't sleep. Perhaps that last Oreo I ate while trying to stay awake during a training class from 6-10 this evening after work was just one Oreo too many. I'm awake.

And I'm thinking about my Buddy and my Precious.

Ever since the doctor said "tethered cord" over Buddy, something inside me seems to have gotten shaken up. I'm emotionally overwhelmed. I ache for him. I ache for his  parents who, in a semi-perfect world, should have been the ones sitting beside the huge MRI machine yesterday.

I ache because they probably don't even know.

I ache because, for once in my life, I am deeply troubled that the answer to "Is there a problem?" is yes.
I ache because, I just returned from a class that mentioned "trauma" in the form of early hospitalizations can  develop things in children that they'll have to overcome.

My gut is ripped in shreds though, at the thought of his tiny, fragile, thin little body enduring the pain of surgeries, catheters, needles. When I stop and imagine it, I can hardly breathe.

Foster child or not - HE IS MINE.
I am not his.

I've thought about the differences the last few days as I tried to understand why my body was physically reacting so strongly to his potential problems, and I put it together as this:
He IS mine, but I am not his.

He is mine. He is my child, my responsibility, my blessing, my chosen opportunity, he is my joy, my sweet sunshine as he grins at me. He is my heart, and as I hold him I'd swear he is my flesh. I would give him all I have and more. I desire so much for his future, his body, his mind, and most of all his soul.

I am not his. Even now, after a month, he cries for someone else. There is someone that holds his heart in a deep, impenetrable way. The time spent in her womb, knowing her voice, and eventually his blessed arrival and feeling her arms hold him. He likes me, yes. But when I left him alone with someone else tonight while I went to class, I knew he would not cry for me. I am not his.

And as I considered these things this week, I almost marvelled at the line that I can draw between those two definitions of who is whose, and who I am to God, and who God is to me.

I believe, firmly, that when God looks down on me He sees me as His. "She is mine".
But I wonder, from Gods infinite view of my life, if He sees that He is mine.

Does my heart cry out for other peoples validation, love, respect, honor, acceptance, more than it does for His? Have I spent time with Him, the birthing time, the quiet hours, days, years, where I just listen for His voice and learn to love it?
Do I cherish the feel of these tiny babies hands, arms, hair, more than I do the arms of my Father?
Am I still willing to lay everything, and everyone down, for the sake of His glory?

Precious, from day one has been of such infinite value to me. She is precious indeed, and dear to my heart. And as I picked up Buddy last night to put him to bed, I knew how precious he too had become to me.
It reminded me of a song that a woman used to sing in my old church: "Jesus is precious to me."

I'd say He is, but... raising two babies and working full time I've found my brain becoming too full. I don't want to read, or listen to things that require my brain power. I want to sit, in a silent house and just recover. But in that, I've wondered if I've slipped some. If I've allowed Him to be less precious to me.

Or perhaps I'm simply taking Him for granted.

Tonight was a good night, that restored to me some energy to pick up and fight again. And I want to reaffirm, or reestablish (whichever word works best) Gods position in my life.

I am His. He is mine.

Buddy

Quick note - Buddy, my 6 month old Foster Grinner went to the Dr today for his 6 mo shots and checkup. The doctor is concerned he may have a tethered spine and has assigned him to have a sedated MRI. "Sedated" is a far more serious word than MRI when it comes to which one is most dangerous for him, but the results of the MRI are by far the most important ultimately.

Please pray that he goes through the sedation with no problems, adverse reactions, or side effects.
Please pray that the symptoms we're seeing are nothing serious and that his spinal cord is not tethered.

I don't have a date for the MRI, but if you follow me on facebook you'll certainly see the progress - and for those that don't, I'll try and make certain to update my blog as news comes.

This blog isn't for this, but it's definitely going to be used for it when the situation calls for it.
Thank you all for your prayers.

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.

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.

Reading the Bible for someone else.

Wednesdays walk has been cancelled due to the fact that I can't get off the floor.

It's not as bad as all that, but, emotionally it's awfully close. I have received 7 yr old TC, and 2 yr old Precious into my home. We are on day 6. Day 5 came out of the pits of hell and threw up all over my home and all of our lives. Day 6 was tentative until about 7:30pm when the hell came and threw up on us again.

I woke up this morning and began preparing myself for battle before waking up the kids. And I thought, "I need WISDOM", so I swayed back and forth between reading James - which talks about how God will give me wisdom, or Proverbs - which is just wisdom. So I went with Proverbs and as I opened my Bible I remembered how people follow the "Proverb a day" by reading the proverb that corresponds with todays date so chapter 29 it was.

As I read, I noticed a pattern emerging in that I was reading wonderful scriptures.... for someone else. Not for me. I whispered quiet "Amens" to verses concerning the raging fool, the wicked, the angry, the boastful. And for some reason I just couldn't find myself in the chapter. I couldn't find the wisdom I was hoping would get me through the day within these verses.

Now, at the end of the day, I can't even find the verses that I was applying to someone else. I see myself in so many verses, and ways that I need to grow and change.

"When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice; but when a wicked man rules the people groan."

"The king establishes the land by justice, but he who receives bribes overthrows it."

"If a wise man contends with a foolish man, whether the fool rages or laughs, there is no peace."

"A fool vents all his feelings, but a wise man holds them back.

"Correct your son, and he will give you rest; yes he will give delight to your soul."

"The fear of man brings a snare, but whoever trusts in the LORD shall be safe."

"Many seek the ruler's favor, but justice for man comes from the LORD."

And last but not least:

"Do you see a man hasty in his words? There is more hope for a fool than for him."

I see tonight what I couldn't see this morning. Tonight something happened that while I wish I could explain it in detail, I cannot. But after all the prayers and leaning hard on God yesterday and today, I can't help but believe that perhaps God had His hand in it and while it might not make tomorrow better, in the long run I'm praying it has some effect.

The Bible is alive, ready to apply itself to your heart. So while you might not understand it at first, and maybe if you're anything like me you'll find ways to condemn others with the verses you find. But God also promised that His word would always accomplish what it set out to do. So while you might not feel the affects of it today - you will.

I believe it.

I'm counting on it to get me through tomorrow.

God is gracious.

Catch up....

So, my Facebook would tell you a lot of things have happened this past week. But I need to catch the blog up as well.
I am still hoping to post 5 days a week, but this week may just be iffy. We'll see how it goes.

I received 2 foster kids on Friday morning. Ages 7 (boy) and 2 (girl). It's been a busy weekend where there isn't a routine yet so they flounder some. I'm looking forward to this week that will quickly get us a bit more settled as we begin going back to school/work/daycare. It is good here though. Difficult though - I've never met a person that so distinctly needed me to be able to forgive the past and move on. I'm still negotiating for the first hug. ;) It'll come.

Despite all that activity, I actually would have several posts up but the Internet has failed me the last several days. It's up at the moment, but it could be down by the time I hit publish. I'll work it out though and the posts will start rolling out.

Meanwhile, use the extra time to pray. :)

No, I'm serious.

Go pray!

The blue chair.

I am not a materialistic person. I don't like "stuff", to a rather eccentric extreme. So when I started making decisions concerning what of my "stuff" would come with me to my new home next month I didn't think of anything except getting rid of more "stuff". A project like that usually makes me happy. I see empty spaces and smile.

That was until today.

As we discussed what furniture I would take with me, and which would go with my brothers family, and which needed to be gotten rid of my blue chair came under scrutiny. It's a "recliner" in the loosest sense of the word since it doesn't actually recline. Or, should the unthinking victim actually attempt to recline, they find themselves reclined to a rather unnatural extreme and unable to unrecline themselves. It's amusing to watch.

But the blue chair was very comfortable for plain old sitting.

But that's not why I cried after it left.

I can remember, picture in my mind, as if it happened just moments ago my sweet, sturdy, beautiful Bell climbing into that chair, far too big for her and sitting, chubby legs askew. I've got pictures of her in just that spot.
I remember taking pictures of Baby and Toddles, my first duo placement, as they sat together in that chair.
And how well I remember Little One sitting in that chair, laying in that chair, eating her favorite banana in that chair.
I remember Sniffles who seemed to fall asleep lying out across the chair.

I looked at the empty lines the frame left on the floor after the man had carried away such a treasure, and I just cried. I miss those babies, but more than anything else in this world I miss my Bell. I'd have given everything I have for that child, and now her chair is gone.

I didn't think it was important. And in truth, it probably isn't. It is still just a chair, the memories are still mine. But if I had it to do over again... I would just crowd my future living room with my blue chair. And be happy.

The Christian Life - by Jeanette

I'd like to begin by documenting my age. I'm 28 yrs old. By documenting that, I hope that helps you believe that I, too, understand that in 5 years time I could look back at this post and laugh at myself for my foolishness.

But I believe a lot of things about the Christian life. So here goes:

I believe you shouldn't be riddled with fear, you shouldn't be timid, stammering, weak-spirited, or easily turned aside.
I believe that you should continue believing even when the road is hard and questions aren't answered.
I believe you should continue worshiping and praising, no matter how you feel sometimes - just because you have the basic understand of how worthy of praise He is... even when you're mad at Him.
I believe you should have the courage to speak to others about Him at any random opening that He provides for you - even if it means you lose your job, your friends, anything important to you.
I believe you should work out your salvation every day before the Lord, with fear and trembling. Knowing that He is your only way to eternal life.
I believe you should leave your past exactly there. The past. The devil brings it up to hinder you, you must put it behind you; taking away only the lessons learned and the changes it's worked in you for the better.
I believe everything has a purpose. And that God will work all things out for good.
I believe that it is of vital importance that our daily conversation include the things of God. It is too easy to pass up opportunities to speak gospel truth to my niece and nephew, and keep my mind on worldly things. But talks of dating, standards, boyfriends and girlfriends, decisions, and how you live life and treat others should begin with Gods standards and His hope for us - rather than just right and wrong.
I believe you should be a full time, every moment of every day Christian. In whatever situation you find yourself, others should always be able to see the Life of Christ within you. Not the basic cranky-pants that they'd find in any one they meet even unsaved.
I believe you should be watchful of every word you speak. The Bible says we'll give an account for every idle word spoken, which is a promise that we take all too lightly. Two nights ago I said a bad word. I didn't mean to, it flew right out in the middle of a happy sentence before I knew what was happening. I regret it so much even two days later that I can't even tell you. My words are too important for me to allow the less than diligent ones out of my mouth.

I've been told repeatedly that I want rules, I want a list of do's and don'ts so I can just follow the list. And I admit I do live a rather strange life that is somehow extremely strict and yet overly happy and playful at the same time. But for me, it's not about a list of rules I've created for myself - it's a way of life. A way of living. It's a way of living that invites freedom, trust, good relationships. It invites hardships as well if it were lived out as fully as it is supposed to be.

If it were a list of rules, I never would have made it. It's like dieting, it just doesn't work.
But when you change your entire lifestyle, allowing only pure things, good things, noble things... it changes you completely.

God loves us.
If you have any thing you'd like to add to the list of beliefs, please feel free.

Bell.

We interrupt 40 days of faith for this profoundly wonderful news.

After many requests I have received an update on Bell. She is "very well cared for". Those words seem small, I'd love to see adjectives like "loved" or "happy", but I will cherish "very well cared for".

Thanks God.

Here we go again.

I thought the process would be longer, but it wasn't. So I suppose it's officially time to put it in writing.

A couple of weeks ago I contacted Arrow, my former foster agency, and said I was ready to get back on this crazy ride. They gave me a list, a surprisingly short list, of what I needed to do to get my home back open for placements again.

I got to work on it, and now I only have one more class that will be completed this week and then I have to find a place to get my CPR/ First Aid updated. If any of you local folks know where I can get that done, please drop me a line.

I've spent the last several months just grieving. Welcoming and then packing up and letting go of 5 kids within a 15 month span is a lot to process. A fellow foster parent and I ultimately described it as joy through disembowelment. I think I've used that term here before, but even months later... it's still just the same. You can close your eyes and see cherubic smiles and feel the little arms around your neck. You can just as easily close your eyes and see them crying as you strap them into a caseworkers car and put on a fake smile and wave goodbye.

Joy through disembowelment.

And yet worth it. I honestly don't know how I'll do it again. But it's the most worthwhile thing I've ever done with my life. I'm honored that the state of Texas allows me this privilege.

Someone once described the differences between the parents and the children is that kids don't have a choice in the pain - we, on the other hand, make the choice to open our hearts. And kids, don't have the coping skills to deal with the pain they've experienced. Whereas, hopefully as an adult you have learned them.

If there is any way possible for you to open your home, do it. These kids need a home, love, support. We all talk about being Christian. And maybe kids aren't your thing - but there is something you can do, to do Christian. Don't just BE. DO.

Whatever it is - I guarantee you God will show you what you can do if you ask him. Always.

But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only...

Foster Parenting

So, this weekend I turned around and discovered, much to my surprise, a good sized wad of poop lying on the floor. I feel the need to state that it was fresh... it's not like guests walk in and randomly find these little presents. It is one of those things that I'm assuming most people that have toddlers can find themselves nodding in complete understanding.
It's one of those memories though, that once the clean up is done it leaves you chuckling with the strange twists a day can take.
As I grabbed some cleaning supplies though, the song "One day at a time" came to mind.
One day at a time sweet Jesus
That's all I'm asking from you
Give me the strength to do every day
What I have to do

Then tonight, CPS came into my house and said a word that for this entire placement - 43 days- they hadn't mentioned. Prior to tonight, I felt safe. I imagined my awesome Bell being here for quite some time.
Tonight they said she could be gone in 30 days. Possibly less.

I have a lot of thoughts running through my head. Today, a Monday was a crazy busy day at work, mental scheduling to 20 new hires, timesheets, overdue timesheet reports, audits, 2 checklists that need to be done, 1 huge list that needs to be done ASAP, dinner for Bell that won't upset her stomach, school supplies since daycare gave me a new list, oh, laundry, where's that blanket? when's this next appt.?cps comes tonight when does arrow come next? do I have arrows reports done? training hrs, I bet I need to get in for infant cpr/first aid soon....

I almost can't control those thoughts. They just burst through every moment of every day. And those are the easy ones. Yet when Ms. CPS said her magic little word - every thought came crashing to a stop. Every ounce of my attention focused in that moment. It's funny how someone can sit on your chest, without ever touching you.

Every night, praying with Bell before bedtime, we pray, fervently that Gods will would be done in her life, and her situation. His perfect will, done on earth as it would be in done in Heaven.
It was harder to pray that tonight. It just took me by surprise.
It's the nature of the work though.
Smile, love with everything you've got, and pray God's perfect will anyway. No matter where it leads you.

We finished up bedtime prayers and I went about all the crazy little chores that get done after she's off to bed and then, out of nowhere, the rest of the song came to mind -
Yesterday's gone, sweet Jesus,
And tomorrow may never be mine.
Help me today,
Show me the way
One day at a time

I've got a good God. He sees little Bell, beautiful, smiling, happy Bell. I wish I could show you my favorite picture of her, so you could see this gorgeous smile. As much as I've claimed her, and she was very easy to claim, oh so easy to claim, and love, and cherish, she's never been mine. Only Gods. He will not abandon His girl now. Whether I've got her or not.

Jesus here's another child to hold
Keep this child safe and warm
This world can be so cold.
Take this child in Your arms,
And never let her go -
Jesus here's another child
Jesus, here's my precious child,
Jesus here's another child to hold.

Foster care #3?

I'm still shaking my head at how obvious God can be sometimes.
My foster home, is on hold. I've been on hold, not receiving any new kids even since before Little One left, because I needed to take some training classes.
And then, even after Little One left, I knew I was no where near ready to take on another kid. Letting go of LO; walking her to that door, and then back down the steps without her, was right up there with getting your tooth pulled without any anesthetic. Hurts.
So I sat and waited, wondering if I'd ever get back in the game.

And at 2pm Sunday afternoon, I wrote the words to a friend, "I'm ready to be a foster parent again."
3pm Monday afternoon (today), I got the phone call.
Keep in mind, my house is on hold.
Yet they called me anyway, with information on a little tyke who needs to be in a house without other kids.
What do you know... I'm one of their only foster parents without any kids.

Nothing is ever set in concrete until they officially arrive, bags, or no bags, in hand. But I just can't help but shake my head sometimes and think that, of all the things that God is unclear on, a little vague, too undetailed in His explanations; every now and then He does something so painfully obvious that you can only sit back and accept it.

Happy Mothers Day

"Are you a mother?"

It took me by complete surprise the first time I was asked, complete surprise the second time I was asked, and complete surprise the third time I was asked.

I'm usually pretty good about feeling people out and gauging what they're going to say next, it helps me figure out what I should say - and more to the point, what I shouldn't say. But for some reason, every single time today, this blindsided me.

I answered "No" every single time. Truthfully so. I am not a mother. And despite my determination to be a foster mom, I don't really have any specific urges to be 'mom'. Some people, just look like a mom, and you know they'll be great at it. I've got one person in mind specifically as I write that too. But I've just never felt like the whole "Let's sing 1-10 in a sweet sing-songy voice, and then paint pictures with our water colors!" My desires in foster parenting were simply to shelter kids. To show them how happy, and unfearful normal life should be, and to let them know that there are people in life that will love you - period - no matter how good or bad you are.

Every single time today though, as I was asked that question "Are you a mother?" it was one of those moments where pictures flood my mind, and with Little Ones image, blond haired, dirty faced, and smiling with those eyes that always seemed to say something of their own, I answered "No". Even as the truth, it felt almost like a lie. And worse yet, in a way it felt as though I were denying her. Instead of leaving the conversation with the simple "No", I wanted to grab their arms and force them to stop and listen to the story of this amazing little girl who taught me so much.

I don't know if mothers out there feel this way, but for me, this year, mothers day took on a brand new meaning. As I answered the question, my thoughts weren't directed to a wish that I could wear the "mother" cloak. But of the deepest desire to point to my former little ones. I always thought for mom's it was about "Whew, a day when someone appreciates all I do for them." and maybe it is. Now I wonder if more of them aren't just enjoying a day to think how blessed they are, and how changed they are, because of their child.

Or maybe they're just hoping for some nice gifts.
What do I know?

Little One Leaves

Today is the day Lord, you knew on July 29th 2007 that today, Feb 29th 2008 would be the day.

There’s so much I wish I could pray about this that I just can’t. I’m even writing this because I’m more likely to get through it.

Take care of her God. Protect her. Draw her to Yourself, and when no on else is around to remind her of how wonderful and lovable she is… remind her Lord. Help her to remember Your love. Draw her to You, and as she ages help her to consider You more and more until one day she understands her need of you. Show her Lord, in all Your special ways that You desire a personal relationship with her. Help her not to imagine You far off, and impersonal. Help her never to settle for being Religious when she could be Your daughter.

Send people in her life to love her. To teach her all the important things she’ll need to know. Comfort her Father against the pain and confusion of the next weeks and months. Help her to sleep, and rest and eat. Give her peace that her small body doesn’t realize she needs.

Work in her parents Lord. Break the chains that hold them back from being the people, and parents, and family that You would have them to be. More than anything else, let Your will be done in their lives and situations Father, and may no weapon or attacks of the enemy be able to divert Your plan for their lives. Give them not only hope for the future, but a passion for it as well. Teach them, lead them, give them Your love for Little One that even they never imagined having before. Give them wisdom into situations they may not realize could be harming their daughter.

Help me to love her deeply today. That I would send her off on this new journey in such a way that she would not be afraid, or worried. I never imagined a 3 yr old could worry until I met her. Help me to say the right things to keep her from her worries. And I just can’t say it enough, protect her. Protect her. Protect her every moment, every hour of every day. Protect her.

Well, do ya punk?

I was ministered to Friday and Saturday. By the least likely people I would have expected. They poured a balm on my heart just by listening to me talk and being passionate about the subect I was talking about.
They really got what I was saying. And I really got what they were saying.
I was talking to Little Ones parents.
And we were all talking about everyones favorite subject. Little One.
There are so many things that I'm not allowed to talk about that the silence is oppressive, but with these people, almost nothing was taboo. I was free.
And despite the fact that I don't know these people, in that moment we bonded and we knew each other. We found a bond based on not a thousand things in common, but one very important thing in common.

I began thinking about it throughout the weekend and I realized that it was a bond of love for Little One that drew 3 very different people into very candid conversation. I could have talked to them for hours. I look forward to seeing them again. All because they love someone I love.

And I realized...

That's what Christianity is suppose to be like.

Our conversations with fellow Christians should leave us feeling as liberated as my conversations with Little Ones parents have.

Here's the clincher though.

As parents, they've absolutely failed Little One. But they're trying.
If put to the test, I'd imagine I'd strongly disagree with the two of them about many things.
But those things aren't as important. For our conversations we're able to set those things aside. I'm able to remember that I've failed LO in many things as well and have only the fact that I too am 'trying' to look forward to.
So often, we find other Christians and our first instinct is to find out what denomination they are, what do they believe?
I know I do that.
And I did it looking for things that we agreed on.
And now, I think that's foolish. All those things are little things, almost petty when compared to the simplest test of all:
When I mention God, can I tell you love Him too?
That's enough to give us something to talk about. That's enough to pull to the surface all the amazing things Gods done, all the different ways I've grown in Him, and enough to pull a deep interest in all the ways you've grown in Him and all the things He's done in your life.
It's enough to leave you walking away from each and every conversation, appreciating the love in your life that flows between you and the Father, even more.
It's enough to make you excited about fellowshipping with anyone that loves God. Regardless of the stuff you disagree about.

So I don't need to know whether you're post or pre-trib.
Once saved always saved or pre-destined.
I don't need to know if you're for hymns or choruses or against instruments.

I just want to know:

Do you love God too?

My readers...

You've changed my life, you all have. Or at least significantly impacted it. In times past I've seen obvious changes in things that I've requested prayer for and so I'm going to do it again.

Little One... things have changed for her recently, with the visits becoming longer, and unsupervised, and this past week CPS agreed I'd 'prepared' her enough that the parents could have her in her home for the visit (they'd kept her from it before in case it confused her).
Well, it has still done a number on her.
She's still a great kid, still doing wonderful in so a thousand respects, but nights are almost as hard as when she first arrived. She's 3, and she misses her mommy and daddy something terrible.

For my wonderful, faithful readers, I'm asking you to bring up her situation next time you talk to her Father.

Bunches O'stuff

I'm still feeling more liberated at the idea of David's Psalms. He seems more like me. Or maybe I feel a little more like him and that makes me feel better since God still liked David no matter how much David threw at Him.

That said...

I had a last minute encounter at church that surprised me. And I came home from church wondering why I'd popped my little protective porcupine needles out. In thinking about it I realized why I don't like asking for help. Spontaneous kindness is easily accepted. But kindness that comes in the middle of problems makes me feel like a ministry requirement. I actually haven't visited someone for the last 4 months because the last time I saw them they gave me money. I'm the dumbest mule kind of stubborn.

Even so, I understand some things better now than I did before. Note that I say "better", I certainly won't claim to entirely understand or to have grasped the full concept of these things but...
I understand why people don't return to church. Why they don't feel they fit in with the 'group'. Real people, have real problems. And sometimes those real people don't have that whipped cream and cherry to put on their problems saying that Gods gonna fix it or that He's got a plan. They walk around scowling because it hurts. And they don't enjoy being around people that are smiling and telling the world that "Gods gonna fix it" and "He's got a plan."

It's not about whether or not those things are true. And I'm not saying our churches shouldn't be a place that exudes the confidence that God is gonna fix it, and has a plan. But... sometimes it's not about that knowledge. It's about what helps. If someone wants a shoulder to cry on now, I think now they'll find me simply crying with them. Not trying to say the right words. As for me, I'm sick of crying. But I've learned a value to it now that it didn't have with me before.

And speaking of valuable things...

Little Ones first unsupervised visit with her parents took place Saturday. At the end of this month the courts will more than likely approve overnight visits, and it's likely that by March Little One will return to her family. Her parents miraculously are doing wonderful. For me there is still the question of LO being protected from certain things, and as the time gets closer I find more of my time spent praying for her future than for her present. In a world where the State of Texas has custody of a child, LO became neither mine nor her parents, and in that void I told God she was His. In a few short months I won't be there to protect, and I need Him to. She needs Him to.

She sat down to supper tonight and informed me we needed to pray, so she quickly folded her hands and said "Thank you God for me, thank you God for food, aaaamen." Maybe she'll make her parents pray. At least I know she'll make them sing about the B-I-B-L-E being the book for her.

In other things... the web is just bursting with good posts lately. And I want to link to an interesting article. Today At The Mission posted a clip from David Hansens The Art of Pastoring - Ministry Without All the Answers" and to give just a snip from their snip:

"Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison and did not help you?" He will reply, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me." Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life. (Matthew 25: 44-46)
What an irony: many social-activist Christians have rejected the doctrine of eternal punishment because they think it detracts from social concern. But if Jesus' words are taught straight from the Gospels, social concern will become central to every Christian, since our eternal destiny hangs in the balance.

It was an interesting article. Also, the post TATM had written before that: "Movie Night" was encouraging. The post talked about how people are always trying to add "ministry" to love. And they were saying that love is what Jesus did all the time, and it didn't always come with a sermon or testimony, or a walk through the salvation process. I'm paraphrasing. You can read the article for yourself.

Also, at some point I'm going to have to take time to update my 'links' section. I've got about 40 regulars that pop up on my google reader now. I won't give out all of them but this one I wanted to make a special note of. Once I update, this one will definitely be in my referral list.
It's Tolle Lege
And, for the best idea of why I love their blog so much, hit their 'about me' page here where it describes their blog. I'd love to spend a week in this guys library. As it is, I'll still be spending several weeks trying to take in as much of their archives as I can wheedle time for.

Goodnight,