tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79831171073246345832024-03-04T23:51:36.100-08:00They Grow on TreesA journey of unlikely foster parentsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-17062770639208589832016-02-05T14:07:00.001-08:002016-02-05T14:07:16.327-08:00The Goldsmiths are standing at the edge of the cliff.....again. We jumped off 5 years ago and said "yes" to adopting older foster kids at the same time we had two bio baby girls, 6 months and 18 months. Those baby girls are 5 and 6 now and exactly the same kind of storm, magical and dangerous, as they were before they could walk. Our adopted kiddos, 11 and 13 are steadily discovering themselves and the meaning of family as they anchor themselves deep in us. Jim and I have grown to love and respect each other even more as we have held on tight to Christ, our parakleet, bringing us safely to harbor. <br />
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Our family feels whole. It seems stronger than ever with desperation and chaos no longer defining us. Except without desperation and chaos, we might dare to depend on ourselves or worse....our own understanding. Gasp. So God as drained the bathwater on us again leaving us standing cold and naked begging for a warm towel. Still in need, albeit a new kind. <br />
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You see, if you asked us our religion, we'd say Christian, but if you didn't ask and only followed us around like an invisible scientist, you'd determine us to be worshipers of comfort. If worship is a deepening response, you'd find us responding to our couch. Our air conditioning. Our cars that always start. Our 600 thread count sheets. Our ability to ignore our children and watch T.V. while they play upstairs or outside.....because we've made sure our home as a level of separation and a safe neighborhood to babysit them. <br />
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Sure, we are living a sacrificial life, we adopted kids.....that inherently means sacrifice. But I think we have smeared a big bloody A for adoption on our foreheads to remind ourselves how good we are, how sacrificial and holy, so we can go about deepening our response to recover all we lost when kids took away our comfort.<br />
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So, it's time to stand on the edge of the cliff. We thought about wandering over to the edge of the cliff and carefully inspecting the most effective transport methods to the bottom, but our loving and jealous God, drove up behind us with a wheel barrow, knocked our legs out from under us, butts into the barrow and pushed us to the edge. As always, we have the choice to jump, He doesn't dump.<br />
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Out of our home we must go. We will homestead on some raw land given to us to use for 3 years in exchange for the long term ownership of all the improvements we put on the land. Those improvements will be a 30x30' deck with three cabins ($3600 each) from Sweetwater Bungalows (www.sweetwaterbungalows.com), a composting toilet system, and solar power. <br />
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Our primary goal is to pay off all debt (law school, car loans, some consumer debt), our secondary goal is to learn how to live off grid and teach our kids a simpler life style. We are not doomsday preppers, but our day of doom did occur a few days ago when we were notified a lien was being put on Jim's paychecks by a student loan lender. We did not see this coming. This very literally means we cannot afford our life. Good riddance. God Provides.<br />
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We had been planning to make this move over the course of the coming year, now it needs to happen immediately as paychecks will be affected in 2 weeks! We have estimated it will take 2.5 years to become debt free by using Ramsey's snowball method.<br />
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It's a good thing we are adventure loving, outdoorsy types with hyper active kids who have to be lured out of trees and off of hilltops. <br />
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Another comfort idol we are burning in this process is the one where you don't ask anyone for help or money. Gonna have to let that go. We need the help of our community to do this and we will give back to the community in a big way when we are done by teaching what we have learned to others. <br />
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How are we gonna live with no running water or electricity or refrigeration? Good question and we don't have all the answers. We do have a 65 gallon water tank on the back of Jim's truck. Can we fill it up at your house sometime? That's one way you can help. We will collect solar panels as we can afford them ($135 each), it'll take a few solar panels to run a deep freezer. The deep freezer will make ice for the coolers (something else we need) that will keep food cold. We want a mini jersey cow for milk, butter, cheese ($3000) and will share the milk, butter, cheese with anyone who can help us pay for her). We will raise meat rabbits, chickens and hogs. Want a share a hog with us? Our cabins will have little Haier air conditioners run on solar for the hottest parts of Summer and wood burning stoves for heat. Our propane grill and a picnic table ($150) will be our kitchen and dining room and since I'm a caterer, I can bring home food from the commercial kitchen. <br />
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And what about this catering business, you ask? Yes, Wild Whisk is doing very well for a 6 month old baby business, but it isn't yet contributing to our bottom line. It will be soon no doubt. Another way you can help is to refer Wild Whisk for anyone needing catering, floral, coordination or event planning. <br />
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Our first step is to store what we want to keep, get rid of the rest and sub lease our house. Do you know anyone in need of a 4 bedroom off Borgfeld/Canyon Golf in Comal ISD? Then we have to get our deck built and put our faithful camping tent on it until we can purchase the bungalows. Immediate needs would be another tent (10 person or larger), lumber for deck, another water tank, 3000 watt generator and cots for kiddos. <br />
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So begins the next chapter of our lives. Join us?<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-55889563847340609392012-12-02T09:27:00.000-08:002012-12-02T09:27:04.235-08:00The Thanksgiving Table<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3PfU8y9KS4fC1-8B-IqQfKhfCrx0qnJmnD4Vsts79dpaf-iuKDmAvxHdmTnaa6neDXJEtgnPYz1fNvir8k00Xn8hH98QvCUQ-nyLLQhaKkNrtwo7p9MqdYvm7WayVd6zaeOeW846Zntk/s1600/IMG_0341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3PfU8y9KS4fC1-8B-IqQfKhfCrx0qnJmnD4Vsts79dpaf-iuKDmAvxHdmTnaa6neDXJEtgnPYz1fNvir8k00Xn8hH98QvCUQ-nyLLQhaKkNrtwo7p9MqdYvm7WayVd6zaeOeW846Zntk/s400/IMG_0341.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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The Thanksgiving Table is the secretly disguised super hero of Thanksgiving and the turkey is the side kick. Afterall, it's that table that holds everything we need. Table seats the treasured (and almost always clothed) people in our lives. Table rests under shelter lovingly provided by an ability to work, to earn or perhaps it has been gifted. Table is adorned with provision of edible sustenance. Maybe the sustenance came from a can that came from a box donated by some people who bought their side kick fresh for $80 from Whole Foods. <br />
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Actually, water should be the side kick, not turkey....the turkey is more like the fat funny guy in the story. The hamster from Bolt. But water.....life-giving water? How many people have ever awkwardly taken their turn to say what they're grateful for and pronounced "WATER". I can live long enough on water for a turkey egg to hatch. But most of the time, I'm just annoyed the wine provided for this special occasion isn't a better vintage. The water is not only not appreciated, it's dripping sweat is making an ugly ring on the pretty table cloth. Remove its boring wetness from my table of luxury!<br />
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But seriously, I'm becoming more and more convinced that Thanksgiving is the most holy of holidays. No character to worship or special song to sing, just recognition. Taking the focus off of self, and re-cogni-zing. Becoming cognizant (mindful of something) different than your normal thought process. Hence the 're' at the beginning of the word. Another word for remember. Ann Voskamp says when we remember God's glory, gifts and grace, we re-member ourselves to Him. <br />
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Tangent alert: Maybe if the people in New Orleans had been more grateful for Water, God wouldn't have had to flood them with it......just sayin. Just read this: "Buchanan discovers in Romans that the heart of wickedness and godlessness is that: a refusal to glorify God. It's the refusal to thank Him." But wickedness doesn't only live in the witchcraft store on Bourbon St. "All the wickedness in the world begins with an act of forgetting."<br />
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Messy people with hard lives and hard hearts forget less. Clean and freshly washed people forget easily so they have much to remember in order to re-member themselves as part of His family. When you have nothing else, water, shelter, love, clothing, food and Jesus are remembered with a glad heart. <br />
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If my Grandmother has ever been angered, the fuel for her fire is my forgetfulness. Forgetting how much I have, forgetting how little I actually need. Come to think of it, that is the catalyst for my momma-rage too. Those selfish little people forget to count their blessings and be grateful in all circumstances. Lord, forgive me.<br />
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If I am resourceful enough, I should be able to use the forgetfulness of my children to remember my excessive and extravagant list of things to give thanks for. Instead of falling into angry sin because they left food wrappers, dirty socks and a half eaten pickle on the couch......perhaps I can smile and give thanks for the fact that my kids can locate, retrieve and unwrap food for themselves. That I am rich enough to afford bags of convenience food which pacify my kids and prevent them yelling "MOMMY, GRIND SOME BARLEY AND BAKE SOME CRISPY BREAD SEASONED WITH EXOTIC SPICES". That the socks are so plentiful and affordable that a pair or eight laying around the house doesn't mean the potential onset of gangrenous disease but only means I might get to use my fancy front-loader......OR....even better....I can make my non-quadriplegic, fully sighted, and only border-line MR kids do it! <br />
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Could my blessing be that in showing my kids how to give gratitude for un-brushed teeth because we have the knowledge, tools and fresh water with which to do it, that they might respond (another word for Worship)to God's provision of these wondrous white things? And might that spark the wonder of learning about teeth? And might that turn my pickle-leaver into a dentist who donates services to orphans who never learned to floss? <br />
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Can I give thanks for angst? If so, how do I then teach self-discipline? Is the only self-discipline needed, the discipline to be thankful? If they are grateful for the food and the teeth and the socks, will they naturally care for them better? <br />
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I have so much to learn. Thank you Lord for the wise teachers in my life.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-85040282723331347702012-11-12T19:18:00.001-08:002012-11-12T19:18:50.624-08:00"A" Day is Approaching<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLPydKKj0Rp70g1XaJrsavCFyEJ4LRNluuRTLgTPx_1myKghbl3ypNwri1A2evfUMOFxfnx3JIPoAL7lN1SUs1gjPrWBYxA-t2Al7SKueutitm4iWlZsp6RbU0gKHUCOXzXnwRib_3lM/s1600/IMG_1205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="299" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLPydKKj0Rp70g1XaJrsavCFyEJ4LRNluuRTLgTPx_1myKghbl3ypNwri1A2evfUMOFxfnx3JIPoAL7lN1SUs1gjPrWBYxA-t2Al7SKueutitm4iWlZsp6RbU0gKHUCOXzXnwRib_3lM/s400/IMG_1205.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Thursday is Adoption Day. This is the most nervous I have ever been to simply write a blog post. The commitment complications that come with Adoption Day are kin to wedding jitters, birthing and prison sentences.<br />
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The court date excites me, when the date materialized....the kids normalized....or seem to. Alas, the exposure of my flip-flop-pancake-deceitful heart to the beady-eyed reading world is scarier than the outcome of the last election. I cower at your correct assumptions of my motives. <br />
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State of scaredy-cattedness aside, I long to tell you how we came to be a well flipped golden-browned syrup doused pastry of love. Ha. A few burned edges....maybe. Lumpy too.<br />
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It all started when a gaggle of broken beauties descended upon the DFW area to storm troop through garage sales, giggle over crack on a cracker and rub each others feet. The gathering of girlfriends.......sometimes a feline festival of falsehood but this time a holy communion. Noses to the carpet in deep prayer, a much-judged friend paves a path for me. She uses her machete like a jungle tour guide to hack down the difficulties of foster care and adopting kids you barely like. She commits while I offer her an escape route. Now my journey is not as hard....for She-Ra has gone before me. <br />
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Oh women of God. Ann Voskamp is so right that we are tied tightly by grace veins. Restricting one another and unclogging blockages to allow free flowing life-blood at the same time. Blessing and cursing. How you sustain me. <br />
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This coven of prophetess' was not the only bucket of water thrown on our fire. Our church offered counseling to any expense, our neighbors offered life lines when drowning and a newly licensed foster family offered whatever it would take. We accepted this team support and we are moving forward with both children and are genuinely happy to be doing so. Happy is a silly word, it's a transient as the beggars on 183. Maybe consoled. Our wounds have constant attention by loving nurses and our doubts are prayed away as quickly as they haunt and re-haunt.<br />
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Careys, Martins, Bonsers, Hutchins, Spears, Hookstras, Vickerys, HCBRR: The great 8 that allowed us no escape. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-36697723338549188782012-07-28T07:44:00.000-07:002012-07-28T07:44:03.547-07:00The Girl is GoneThere was no big eruption, only revelation. I woke up and within minutes had torn into her for being such an effective mirror of myself. But the anger strangely halted. I did not strip her naked and beat her with my words like I usually do.....many times a day. I did not grasp for the wise tools I've been given to rear hurt children only to pick up the hammer and begin the slaughter. I just stopped. I stopped feeling. I stopped taking it personally. I stopped blaming. I stopped the senseless mutilating of myself for not being good enough and just let go. <br />
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The storm clouds of mommy that terrify the other children cleared and grey somber skies settled in. We talked. Without rank or retaliation. She and I just sat and laid it on the line. <br />
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I will not use this blog as a platform to rant about her ways. Only to own the lesson I struggle to teach.....Accept Responsibility. And to educate anyone willing to learn about the veiled horrors of oppositional defiance disorder and attachment disorder. These sneaky repercussions of a hurting mother who can't love her baby were hard to detect and easily concealed by stretches of good behavior. Hollowness of the heart.<br />
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How did this happen? Why? I know you beg these questions and my answers will disappoint. But I can offer this: Foster care and adoption is clearly biblical and no conditions are mentioned. This is not a path only for former nannies and baby whisperers. It's for the church. Those broken ugly people who dress themselves up nicely for Sunday worship.....all of them. At our pinnacle of self righteousness, you know, the point at which you determine you are good enough to rescue hurting children.....This is where the journey begins. A backwards journey into your past, into your sin where revelation takes place and you start over on the mountain you thought you'd conquered. This is a gift. A blessed uncovering that forces you to nestle into your God's armpit for protection....and correction. <br />
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This is all I can offer for now. She is in respite care for 10 days with people who looked at me the same way I looked at her failed former foster parents when they dropped her off at my house. Respite care is something we should have taken advantage of much sooner, but that would have required an admission of lack of control that I wasn't strong enough to confess. Talks will be underway to discuss the path that is best for everyone. But because this has more to do with my anger management, it's not likely reconciliation will occur.<br />
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Let your judgement of me be your call to Foster Care. And may your journey begin.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-33558021709589301812011-12-12T11:18:00.000-08:002011-12-12T11:48:30.483-08:00ProfanityI read <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com">www.aholyexperience.com</a> by Ann Voskamp. It's a blog full of beautiful insight and she is a rather famous author of a very poignant and poetic book that I'm not smart enough to read, but the blog is little chunks of wisdom that I can usually digest. Today she posted a quote by Elisabeth Elliot that said "profanity is failure to see the inner mystery". Huh? Thank goodness Ann explained that inner mystery, in this case, means holiness. So foul language is a failure to recognize holiness. I still didn't get it. I read it at 6am this morning and it's now 1:25pm and I GET IT!<br /><br />I knew this was speaking directly to me because I have been feeling very convicted about my bad habit of using curse words freely and with no filter. I usually stay away from the F word unless I'm really mad, but I even use profanity in daily talk with my kids when things get tense. Some of you gasp, I know. <br /><br />So I have been thinking about it all day and it just hit me and I had to start typing before my thoughts escaped or some evil spirit buries them in my laundry pile that I never see the bottom of.<br /><br />Using bad language....and not just curse words, but wicked-talk via tone or vocabulary means that I am not seeing myself as a vessel of God. I am not seeing my poor subjects, to whom I wickedly speak, as God-breathed beings. When I curse at nobody but the corner of a table for the stubbed toe, I am failing to remember that Christ is with me. That He walked this earth because of Christmas day and it is therefore Holy. It is ALL HOLY. Every moment of repetitive refinement, every purification by child-induced fire or cash poor cross carrying bad day.....it is all Holy because He is at work in it. All of life flames with God and I am missing it with my "me" eyes.<br /><br />So here goes my NO CUSSIN' commitment. If you hear me say it, rebuke me. If I type it, stop reading this blog and spend your time with someone who gets how sacred it all is.<br /><br />That's all. Thanks for your support.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-22330274088549493902011-12-08T09:16:00.000-08:002011-12-09T11:44:01.461-08:00Taking a U-turn<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNVrlSmlBznbIIzfFFErMHAid-o2dXQNRlQH3ZdbPMcD_s21JqOWxxymIxm3IWYKbHU5ZjkPK8xlmbnPtdJn4_xHH2l5pl2Mmb-l6b5etfnj2ehHz-soFe6C0XRzaCbYfkBtMxk4yHos/s1600/IMG_2341.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNVrlSmlBznbIIzfFFErMHAid-o2dXQNRlQH3ZdbPMcD_s21JqOWxxymIxm3IWYKbHU5ZjkPK8xlmbnPtdJn4_xHH2l5pl2Mmb-l6b5etfnj2ehHz-soFe6C0XRzaCbYfkBtMxk4yHos/s400/IMG_2341.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684211917114865490" /></a><br /><br />Here is a short list of what has been turning in the last 2 months:<br /><br />Georgia turned one and started walking and turned her babble into words.<br />I turned to prayer for healing and have a new heart for my kids.<br />Caton can turn a somersault.<br />Max turns a mean round-off and is excelling in gymnastics.<br />What to do about their terrible school is turning into a daily conversation.<br />Ridgley has turned her habit of lying into a realization that truth really is easier.<br />The babies are learning to take turns and it's precious to watch them wait patiently.<br />Caton is turning in her pull-ups for big girl panties.<br />Jesus is turning Ridgley's tired old heart in for a shiny new one.<br />And we are all waiting for our turn to make the adoption of Max and Ridgley final.<br />The year will turn from 2011 to 2012 before that happens. <br /><br />The word "turn" makes me think of the best description I have heard so far for what it means to repent. A u-turn. To turn and go in the other direction at the realization that what you're doing is in opposition to God's character. <br /><br />I haven't considered a venture into foster care and state adoption as repenting until now, but isn't that what I did? I turned from a completely self serving life in which I nodded to God occasionally to a path of obedience (at least in this one area). I was traveling down the easy road where children are naturally loved and I turned around. Leaving behind everything safe and known. Now I am on an adventurous road with God. Scary and dark. Where He is the light unto my path and without Him I cannot see 2 inches in front of me and so I sometimes stub my toe and scream bloody curse words. Then I turn on the God-light and I can see, but only enough to feel safe about the very next step. The majority of the path ahead is completely unknown.<br /><br />Is this what I was called to? I honestly don't know if I was 'called' to this by God or if I just talked myself into it for self serving reasons. But it was a u-turn. My old path was fine. Nobody would call it a sinful path necessarily, but indeed it was in opposition to God's character because it only served me and ignored the command to care for widows and orphans. The new path is toward God's character. There are still so many more turns in the road. New ways of obedience I have not yet considered much less adopted into my life and character.<br /><br />And the truly jaw-dropping realization lately has been that God has not asked me to pursue orphans because I'm gifted at it. He hasn't even asked me to be good at it. And I'm not. His command is to care for widows and orphans in their distress. As a matter of fact, I think on days when they are not particularly distressed, I hardly provide care for them at all. Half kidding here. <br /><br />He hasn't asked me to love them exactly the same as I do my biological kids but just to care for them. We are commanded also to love one another. But I have never pressured myself to love my neighbor the way I have pressured myself to love these kids. I have beat myself up over not feeling a more equal love for them. But if He is the source of love, then shouldn't I simply be giving HIM to my neighbors, my kids, my friends and family? Is the love he is asking us to have for one another the deep overwhelming feeling kind of love? Or is it to love them as I do myself? And if so...how do I love myself? Not with a gushy-mushy-stare-at-myself-till-I'm-blue kind of baby-love? Not at all. The way I love myself is by protecting my interest, growing myself, learning to be more Holy, feeding my body and preserving my heart. I can do this for my neighbors and orphans and widows and even people I dislike by encouraging them, putting the needs of others ahead of my own, giving sacrificially and proclaiming the gospel. And if I'm walking in the Spirit, I can maybe do even better than this! <br /><br />The love I am going to give my kids isn't going to be enough anyway. It isn't going to save their souls. My love isn't enough for Caton and Georgia either. All it will ultimately do is show how perfect a parent God is when they finally realize I am an imperfect-human-mommy-sinner who loves a perfect Father. The purpose of my faulty love is to show His Perfect Glory. <br /><br />I hereby free myself of the pressure to gush every time "they" walk in the room. But I will embrace them, encourage them and teach Jesus by living sacrificially. I will fail at all of this from time to time and then I will teach them how failure shows us a need for God. <br /><br />And lately I have found myself leaping for them. Little heart-jumps that remind me God can do ANYTHING...even with my hard heart. I just have to be willing. Not an expert. Not even really capable. Just willing to turn.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-13518583405091735762011-10-03T07:05:00.000-07:002011-10-03T07:34:16.475-07:00Their past visits them<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNQyi4t-tbyid-Ms9k_IxuaHD2fhvXQsDYLWI5PF8XmHeg9QxR-ub5MpppEKA1YyOGmQYf0eYlZJh9GybPeJjg5_9E7cNHsonAaInki54yDj5rDAKMHAuJfeW6sygAOhVkZFWcNGniHE/s1600/Hands+pic"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNQyi4t-tbyid-Ms9k_IxuaHD2fhvXQsDYLWI5PF8XmHeg9QxR-ub5MpppEKA1YyOGmQYf0eYlZJh9GybPeJjg5_9E7cNHsonAaInki54yDj5rDAKMHAuJfeW6sygAOhVkZFWcNGniHE/s320/Hands+pic" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659273937589062434" /></a><br />Turbulent but forward we are making progress and life is becoming as normal as yours. However normal that is or isn't. Us too. Nightmares have subsided, sleep-walking has been less frequent and our authority has been established, challenged and is holding strong under fire. <br /><br />And then a ghost from their forgotten past reminds them where they came from and how easily chaos can enter their fortress. <br /><br />Until the adoption is final, the details are best left undisclosed, but their little hearts are tender again. Memories, new information about their biological mom and fear keep them skittish, fit-full and agitated. <br /><br />Therapist to the rescue tomorrow. He says this can ultimately be a good thing, unearthing some deep wounds that need fresh air for healing. <br /><br />My rescue therapy has been a humble little blog called <a href="http://www.ashleyhaupt.blogspot.com">Little Pieces of Ordinary</a> by Ashley Haupt. I found her last week and have a blog crush....blush? I've read several posts now and her gentle words are like aloe vera on a sunburn. Today she reminded me that control is only a facade and loss of control is the beginning of freedom. <br /><br />This information will take awhile for me to unpack. In what areas have you given up control and found freedom?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-27486791332792747942011-09-24T08:43:00.000-07:002011-09-24T08:52:13.795-07:00Feelings vs. Truth<br />
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<b>Let me not strive but submit.<br />
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The source of my comfort showed me this today in Ann Voscamp's<blockquote><a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/a-bloggers-prayer/">A Blogger's Prayer</a></blockquote><br />
If you listen to <a href="http://www.spirit1059.com/DJ-SusieDavis.aspx">105.9</a>, Susie Davis, with Everyday Inspiration and Good News, you might recall hearing this week about feelings not telling the truth. We should rely on God's promises, not our feelings.<br />
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A truth that is so contradictory to our nature it's almost laughable.....it is laughable in a secular world. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikOXK4qu0GH_npEBKF2MCn3BznTGylzQ_q-tZXooFSipGGIUfKS1TeJxtl8Q8PezwR_xiaM1AG6pzUPEBYdDOgUlkW7hyQI2nZZskK08Y6cRJrH-Q8wxmWbpi41KOGpvCOEw2avENyw04/s1600/laughter" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="254" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikOXK4qu0GH_npEBKF2MCn3BznTGylzQ_q-tZXooFSipGGIUfKS1TeJxtl8Q8PezwR_xiaM1AG6pzUPEBYdDOgUlkW7hyQI2nZZskK08Y6cRJrH-Q8wxmWbpi41KOGpvCOEw2avENyw04/s320/laughter" /></a></div>See, they're laughing.<br />
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I have been reading the Bible. Yep. Does it annoy you that I have even said that? It irks me sometimes when others tell me things they are doing that I want to do, know I should do, don't feel I have the time, energy or patience to do and they must be bragging about their success. (if that isn't a clear window into my wounded soul!) <br />
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My church insisted, not encouraged but INSISTED, I do this thing. Reading the Bible. Like...everyday. And not a verse at a time. But a whole chunk that takes even longer to read than it would take me to shower.....which is one of those things you people brag about and it kinda pokes me in a soft spot. <br />
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Using a program from LifeWay called <a href="http://www.bhpublishinggroup.com/readthebible/default.asp">Reading the Bible For Life</a>, it's a 4 plus 1 plan (2 segments of Old Testament and 2 segments of New Testament plus One Psalm). It should take about 15-20 minutes, they say. With 4 kids it takes about 6.5 hours. So I have to get up early and get it done before they wake up otherwise I can't make all the connections from book to book and get the big picture and then what would be the point? <br />
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This has caused great change....all this waking early, reading God's powerful word and having a clear perspective for my day. I'm bright faced and sunny tailed getting out of bed although I should be more tired because I'm not going to bed earlier in order to accommodate this insistent and bothersome church decree. And I'm not getting up 20 minutes earlier either. I tried that and it was too close to wake up time for the babies, so they'd hear me and wake up with me. So, I have to get up about an hour and a half earlier than normal to drink enough coffee, shower and read before they lay claim to my life with their pittery -pattery-stinky-little feet. <br />
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It takes a lot of coffee to read Chronicles. Strong black-hole coffee. The lists are endless, the names are tongue twisters and point does not exist in our human world. I don't know anyone who curls up with a manifesto of their ancestors on a rainy day. I feel silly reading these names. I feel like it's a waste of time. But feelings are not promises. They are transitory.<br />
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But still....why on earth would this be asked of me?<br />
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It is not of earth that the request is made. <br />
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Do not strive but submit. <br />
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Rely on truth, not feelings.<br />
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I have ceased striving to find reason for the lists or even truth amongst them. Needing it to makes sense is just another mask for control. I will simply submit to truth and lay feelings on the altar. He has asked this of me. Not my church, my God. <br />
<blockquote><b><blockquote>Obey first, and then we can talk about it.</blockquote></b></blockquote>This is what I teach my children. (I learned it from<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Good-Angry-Exchanging-Frustration-Character/dp/0877880301"> Good to Angry</a> by Turansky and Miller) <br />
They are too stupid <i>(yes, I'm using that word and I'm not afraid of it....it means without knowledge, judge me if you must)</i> to understand why it's important to clean up messes, do things without grumbling or execute tasks all the way, right away and with a glad heart. <br />
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I am too stupid to understand why God wants me to read Chronicles. <br />
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Maybe it's because through my obedience, I will learn better how to teach my children obedience? Maybe it's because there is power in His word and simply saying those silly names will bring healing, light or wisdom to my life. Or does it simply amuse Him to watch me try to internally pronounce Machbannai, Zillethai or Jehoiada. I don't know. I don't want to know. I want to rest in the fact that He knows and all I have to do is obey. Then maybe we can talk about it someday.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-79535427907204643262011-09-14T20:46:00.000-07:002011-09-14T20:46:14.528-07:00Accountable Kids<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialDERu66JV0lwT_iKiUMIU3_-cQqQArc7dinQrjG_oOEku85nWUa4YyIdMpCB5zXXG8RspHx-Eb2sqwsILzSiztW4FX6UQCICVwMyJZXgUQ-eDXvFfSGMMPbVhuPqqGHb56njowwDjbw/s1600/IMG_0148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialDERu66JV0lwT_iKiUMIU3_-cQqQArc7dinQrjG_oOEku85nWUa4YyIdMpCB5zXXG8RspHx-Eb2sqwsILzSiztW4FX6UQCICVwMyJZXgUQ-eDXvFfSGMMPbVhuPqqGHb56njowwDjbw/s320/IMG_0148.jpg" /></a></div>
What you see here are my big kids happily vacuuming and cleaning a table and chairs. Yep. You're Kermit-green with envy, I know. I was not holding a rifle to them despite what the neighbors have reported either. Here's what happened:
<a href="http://www.accountablekids.com">Accountable Kids</a> is a program we learned about through another foster parent at <a href="http://www.arrow.org">Arrow</a>, our foster and adopt agency. They had success with it and told the other parents about it months ago. It was on my back burner for sometime before we finally ordered it. At $30 per kid and another $17 for the book on how to use it (which you REALLY need) it would put a hole in our budget bucket since we have no category for kooky-maybe-it'll-help-behavior-programs. However, after the last few posts, you know that I have been wallerin' in some self pity mud and we do have a budget category for mental health so we ordered it.
We bought the quick start DVD too and popped it in for family movie night after the kit arrived. We told the kids to shut up and watch it. Sure did. They were quiet through the whole thing. Threat of raining Mommy drama? Maybe, but more likely they were just intrigued as the video does a good job of introducing the program. Afterwards Max said, "Hey, we should totally get that!". Teehee. I said, "We have it!" Then he argued with me and said no we didn't and then he was grounded. Kidding. But that is how it would have gone down if we didn't have this program because we are negative consequence type parents. Its how we were raised and yes, we know better, but the genes are hard to shake.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdot9imC3NDgDr2YNdiqo7DG7mfjc1kjNS0WSp192g64O8IMH-56JktSfIOuLuhKNxzOR_0dTdqALapVQZR_nIfDciUh9QaG9XZWA4dtnd2KTNiqNarCSaIP3oJkIZ0CPKcBmFqTjSlg/s1600/IMG_0784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdot9imC3NDgDr2YNdiqo7DG7mfjc1kjNS0WSp192g64O8IMH-56JktSfIOuLuhKNxzOR_0dTdqALapVQZR_nIfDciUh9QaG9XZWA4dtnd2KTNiqNarCSaIP3oJkIZ0CPKcBmFqTjSlg/s320/IMG_0784.jpg" /></a></div>
So they got to paint their boards which was fun.... until Ridgley started acting like a peacock on speed and stepped in paint and then onto the carpet after being told to please wait a few minutes before insisting on full attention.......this is the way of the cracked out peacock in it's adoptive habitat.
Alas, the boards were installed on the wall and we began the program the next day which was the day before school started. They were excited and eager and Max took to it like a micro-man on a mission. Ridgley was more "what can this program do for me?" than "what can I do for the program?" but she has come around and it's working like a dream come true.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78t0jVQaalBnbLkcuqt_t-9E6QAMibuL3wrubxIQw9hjfquyYR7kItKsEp7VQFAHBuUy9gEuP6w814obnK9cPQVgsXTEXiOCeY4mojyEWYAW7QmmtVt4h77ufbvkqJw0TCwSIXx_N3h4/s1600/IMG_0206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78t0jVQaalBnbLkcuqt_t-9E6QAMibuL3wrubxIQw9hjfquyYR7kItKsEp7VQFAHBuUy9gEuP6w814obnK9cPQVgsXTEXiOCeY4mojyEWYAW7QmmtVt4h77ufbvkqJw0TCwSIXx_N3h4/s320/IMG_0206.jpg" /></a></div>
Accountable Kids is based on tickets and earning privileges. It is a positive reward system that also allows for disciplining through loss of tickets. They do chores (brushing teeth, making bed, getting dressed, sweeping, putting clothes away, taking vitamins, etc....just daily activities and some actual house work) and they earn tickets for completing a morning, afternoon and evening routine. For example, our kids have a card each hanging on their board for make bed, brush teeth, get dressed, personal care, and 'on time'. The board tells them what to do. I used to stand in the hallway and redirect lazy-mackrel-mouthed kids back to the bathroom 3-6 times before they would get everything done. Now, they check the board, do the chores and earn a ticket! One ticket in our house gets them 30 minutes of media (their choice).
There are other aspects of the program that have catapulted our home, angry bird style, from militant-mental ward to happy pig dwelling. They can earn a best behavior card for demonstrating the fruit of the spirit. They earn special dates after 10 days of success. There are 'helping hands' that encourage them to offer to help with no reward expected and my favorite is bonus bucks. They can earn an allowance for doing chores outside the everyday scope and are beginning to grasp the concept of buying things for themselves after working for it.
It's not rocket science but what I am realizing is that the creators of this program have really thought of everything! There is a sneaky little system of checks and balances that kicks into gear even when the kids seem to stop caring about earning a ticket (which never lasts long, btw). And it has kept us accountable for never letting them have access to media unless they are 'spending' a ticket.
No more iCarly or Power Ranger induced zombie-itis. They set timers and turn it off quickly because they lose a ticket if they go 1 minute over. They are even learning about interest and borrowing because if they lose a ticket for bad behavior (being told twice, arguing, whining, etc) and don't have a ticket to pay, then they owe 2 tickets. This happened for the first time today. It has taken 3 weeks for one of our kids to screw up and be ticketless. Ridgley hosted a perfect princess pity party with all the glamorous sobbing, heaving and body thrashing you'd expect from a royal peacock. The difference was I did not scream and yell. I stayed calm and let the system do the work. She lost privileges and later in the night she was fine and fully realized she would have to earn two tickets to pay back what she had to borrow earlier and she knows she can be back in the green tomorrow afternoon if she falls in line with the rest of the peasants.
I could write for hours about this, but ask me any specific questions or doubts you might have and check out the <a href="http://www.accountablekids.com">website</a>. The site doesn't give away all the nitty gritty details, but I will. It has been LIFE GIVING and I cannot say enough how much I think you need this if your kids are 3-11 years old. On a scale of 1-5, this is a 5 STAR system.
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-50004583589422667602011-09-05T10:39:00.000-07:002011-09-05T10:39:30.848-07:00Blooming Love FlowersSweet Holy Moses, things are good again. I'm not gonna get to wordy and flowery with this post. But know that I am smelling Peonies in the air far more than poopy attitude (my own). Inspired by my dear friend, JoNeel, I am making you a list of the amazing qualities my big kids possess:
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<br />1. They NEVER sass me or talk back (not to my face or that I have ever seen)
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<br />2. They almost always say please and thank you
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<br />3. More times than not, they respond with Yes Ma'am (perhaps out of fear, but nonetheless)
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<br />4. They make their beds without being told (thanks to <blockquote>Accountable Kids<a href="http://www.accountablekids.com"></a></blockquote> program)
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<br />5. They are not smelly children
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<br />6. She never complains when I tug and pull and sometimes rip out her hair (because I'm still learning how to manage black hair)
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<br />7. He has started saying I love you in clever ways so he doesn't have to say it out loud
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<br />8. They LOVE their baby sisters
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<br />9. They almost never argue or fight with each other
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<br />10. She is infinitely patient with her brother
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<br />11. He is oh-so-gentle and kind to his baby sisters
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<br />12. They share everything they have with no regard for any item's safety (toys often destroyed by little ones and they never complain)
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<br />13. They actually verbalize how much they love living in our house and with our family.
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<br />14. They have no longing or attachment to bio family (sad, but let's get real....that only makes things harder on everyone)
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<br />15. They offer to help one another with tasks (seriously! It's unreal)
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<br />16. Have you seen these flippin' kids? They are drop dead gorgeous. (sometimes I forget this and sometimes I am enamored by it)
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<br />17. They would rather spend time as a family than alone or watching TV (yes, I know it won't last)
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<br />18. She follows directions very well and makes STRONG efforts to grow in character, skill and strength
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<br />19. They read the Bible and memorize verses (not voraciously, but still....)
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<br />20. They are almost ours.
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<br />So there. Whining be gone. My kids rock and I suck. But love is growing again and God is revealing my dark side by giving me a sunny side.
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<br />Check out this blog post. It's my mantra for the week.
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<br /><a href="http://www.domestickingdom.com/2011/07/09/how-to-mop-for-jesus-sake/">How to mop for Jesus’ sake</a>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-73731320802508635902011-08-20T20:16:00.000-07:002011-08-20T21:47:33.543-07:00The Return of Joy
<br />His power is made perfect in my weakness. And oh how he has flexed his mighty grace muscles in my life this last 4 days.
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<br />On Tuesday I groaned to my sisters in parenting hell about feeling repulsed by my children's touch at times. On Wednesday their prayers opened a portal allowing me to accept the Holy Spirit's nudging to reach out to them and break the touch-barrier in all the loving ways a mother should yearn for her children.
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<br />On Wednesday I was still having moments of envisioning their destruction and yielding to Wormwood's hold on my heart as I sought to hurt and hate them because of the way they make me feel about myself. But on Thursday, scripture's sweet release from the lies had molded my cold heart into warm affections.
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<br />On Friday I found myself intrigued by their nature and felt equipped with some new tools from a book called Good to Angry (Turansky and Miller). Today, Saturday, joy crept in and mercy was effortlessly extended.
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<br />The only thing I did to bring about any of this change was complain to the right people. The people in my life who breath God's word into me, share my experience in this foster care/adoption spelunking adventure and are standing with me, boots on, in the dark, loving me well.
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<br />The cave metaphor is all too accurate. Adopting through foster care is no "roller coaster" for the highs to do not come often enough nor are they as thrilling.....and nothing happens fast. This is spelunking, cave exploring. Scary and something few people do.....for good reason. It is dark and lonely and tricky to navigate. It requires special equipment and careful preparation. Your first steps into the foster care cave are exciting but cautiously measured while still secure and firm footed. There is still some light from the opening. But doubt sets in when things get black. You feel your way through it relying way too much on your deceitful heart and before you know it you are lost and afraid. The cave is not to blame nor are the characters in it for they have always been creatures of the dark and have specially adapted to their conditions. It is your arrogance that traps you. Then your guide turns on your head-light and shows you the rest of the way (because you had this equipment the whole time but didn't know how to turn the damn thing on) and you begin to see the beauty in the cave dwellers and the landscape of patient formations of calcite, the structure of impurities. It is still a long crawl back to the sun but you might stay awhile and explore this underworld to see not what you can do to change it, because you cannot...you are only an ill-prepared visitor, but to see how it's contrary beauty can affect change in you.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDufIxo-4ULZJ433wmSHPYUXDCuwxCkXI69JNWZHUiyWx1x7pwnHBWMNjSuRC2JLpb-S9iPccAiajP-yjHY75CTigxZrgBm3hhituHP2y1vzG3ULeRTZ6ePSnkZFo37jcnsmE-M__MV9A/s1600/Spelunking+Sunbeams.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDufIxo-4ULZJ433wmSHPYUXDCuwxCkXI69JNWZHUiyWx1x7pwnHBWMNjSuRC2JLpb-S9iPccAiajP-yjHY75CTigxZrgBm3hhituHP2y1vzG3ULeRTZ6ePSnkZFo37jcnsmE-M__MV9A/s320/Spelunking+Sunbeams.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643160452504032674" /></a>
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<br />I have not posted in awhile because I was waiting for something positive to say after my last ranting. Sugary encouragement is still far from my lips right now for anyone considering this avenue of obedience. But the Bible is full of painful instructions that lead to abundant life. Pruning is no trip to the spa (John 15:2), iron sharpening iron (Prov. 27:17) is not the lap of luxury, carrying a cross (Matt 16:21-25)is no Kate Spade bag of the season, and being held to the fire until your ugliness surfaces and can be skimmed off enough times so that God can see his reflection in you (Prov. 25:4)....yeah, that one is not even as enjoyable as a chemical peel at a med spa. While I believe he desires joy for my life, his methods confound me. Please pray for our continued desire for and dependence on His Word.
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-81742290219404261612011-06-23T19:28:00.000-07:002011-06-23T20:00:26.537-07:00SacrificeWarning: This is not the uplifting kind of post I'm proud to create. This is the spilling of guts. It's what I promised. I have no pretty pictures to post. All I have is laid bare in this unoriginal font knitted together in some unimpressive words.<br /><br />This is flippin' hard. I'm not really parenting these children as much as I am rehashing my own childhood and cursing them for being the same as 8 year old me. The "you spot it, you got it" phrase is more than appropriate but it's reminder only makes fun of me for knowing better. Shouldn't I be able to see them fail at following kindergarden instructions and smile with remembrance? Why can't the moment I recall with fondness how air-headedness was a way of life be the same moment I apply grace to my kids? <br /><br />But that moment of grace comes way later and usually after the idea of an apology to them has flooded my mind and then been quelled by pride. No apology escapes, just vacancy where yelling and looks of disappointment wiped out whatever frivolous and innocent thoughts or dreams they were concocting were beginning to bud.<br /><br />I confess this, Lord. May the cold feeling of inadequacy be warmed by your grace blanket. Let me teach them the way you taught others. Not with harsh words, but with patience, gentleness, kindness.<br /><br />I don't want to eat the lies hidden in the cupcakes of life. I know I am doing good. I know they are better off here than anywhere and I know God made me for this very purpose. But the dross keeps clouding the silver on top and so He keeps heating me up, purifying me with uneaten dinners, unmet expectations, spilled milk. (But not the on-the-counter kind.....the under the table-seeping into my favorite pillows that have been tossed on the floor because NOTHING WILL EVERY BE PRETTY AGAIN-running down the cracks in the fake wood floors.....that kind of spilled milk).<br /><br />And this all makes me so tired that my very best friend has been ailing for over a week with a terrible sickness and I've been unable to muster up the energy to bless her in any way. And yes, I feel dreadful, because Hurricane Katrina would not keep her away from me if I were in the same condition. I love you, Christy, and I'm thinking of you hourly as I kick up to the top of the water for another breath before being dragged back down by the swift undercurrent of my life right now.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-40563696766695698832011-06-07T19:10:00.000-07:002011-06-07T20:16:19.290-07:00Rub a Dub, 4 kids in a tub<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinyaGsToWNd8xB7nUX5tuga1yr-lveRgtLzpf-uG6eycAtHDBQ-6-AOlYhwkOOVRV4b1LBT_pGRnWT1zCRmA5k1eX_bbsUftwQgaImRSaGsm8w5ucvJWKDrZNUBPBw75_1Vil2d93pBqo/s1600/IMG_2080.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinyaGsToWNd8xB7nUX5tuga1yr-lveRgtLzpf-uG6eycAtHDBQ-6-AOlYhwkOOVRV4b1LBT_pGRnWT1zCRmA5k1eX_bbsUftwQgaImRSaGsm8w5ucvJWKDrZNUBPBw75_1Vil2d93pBqo/s320/IMG_2080.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615668242737761922" /></a><br /><br />These pictures tell the story of the past month quite effectively. Glory to God for his abundance. Deep gratitude cleanses my iniquities as a parent and friend. Even I cannot feel badly about my short comings when I count the extravagant gifts. So good that I want no change. <br /><br />These faces plant new seeds of hope hourly. We bonded immediately. But now I am falling in love. It's most obvious with Ridgley. It's true that we fall in love with people based on how they make us feel about ourselves. She imitates me. Flattery perfected. It's lovely to hear her use words that I use. To glean character from her mentor. I'll have to be careful to brush away the chaffy stuff because it will surely stick to her spongy hair. <br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmJTxbCPpZ-jmO1K58xAeW6fl9Jso5xFAzqWHRRnm-ypOIUyW2ouPDKKPUbEE5YXR0M6LhSkP-CHlR3KWPvd5fk61LiBoOWm-AV-KL03WuAnsIs4SeQEDqrfHuLfzSmInLTYO-L3hBeo/s1600/IMG_2083.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmJTxbCPpZ-jmO1K58xAeW6fl9Jso5xFAzqWHRRnm-ypOIUyW2ouPDKKPUbEE5YXR0M6LhSkP-CHlR3KWPvd5fk61LiBoOWm-AV-KL03WuAnsIs4SeQEDqrfHuLfzSmInLTYO-L3hBeo/s320/IMG_2083.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615667831482301266" /></a>Yesterday, I overheard her asking her friend if she knew what sin was and then later explaining to her that God wants us to think of others before ourselves. She watched Veggie Tales this morning. She must have considered it all day because this afternoon her furrowed brows had burst into a botox smooth realization that the cucumber was God! She's taking in the Gospel like it's Goldfish!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-Eaen5EmylQ2ApceIrzGYEk2nczVmL5D8Y-6lfKos9qV-z2k3529mTwWZVECSb9yektzf4OVOY27iR5z4Xfx_Kce3UY-zdYAKi_RFMGpwuR4POXfioMvMahb0P1IBE-zxtcHEKj8-k4/s1600/IMG_2098.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-Eaen5EmylQ2ApceIrzGYEk2nczVmL5D8Y-6lfKos9qV-z2k3529mTwWZVECSb9yektzf4OVOY27iR5z4Xfx_Kce3UY-zdYAKi_RFMGpwuR4POXfioMvMahb0P1IBE-zxtcHEKj8-k4/s320/IMG_2098.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615678818498941522" /></a>Caton is almost two now and that is hard because her hormone-a-coaster is making my life shake. But I'm proud to say that I am off the Wellbutrin and back on my Jesus-zac. 6am quiet times for 10-30 minutes do more than the drugs ever did to keep anxiety and nuttiness at bay. Jim has been fearfully, but wonderfully waking me. Thanks, babe.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJqvV8Fiq_SZTwPYDyPNksiVmYwrO7qJRKtLZlPSA3vKJntG7bEbMA08FhcD0kPlLC07O5tafYu4JpKIjQKTOMbqTUwn9QGhCsZiwpwT0KUbIlgTOv_ISEER84BJYqxwM5GNe4RnRk80/s1600/IMG_2089.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJqvV8Fiq_SZTwPYDyPNksiVmYwrO7qJRKtLZlPSA3vKJntG7bEbMA08FhcD0kPlLC07O5tafYu4JpKIjQKTOMbqTUwn9QGhCsZiwpwT0KUbIlgTOv_ISEER84BJYqxwM5GNe4RnRk80/s320/IMG_2089.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615667507077937602" /></a><br /><br />This boy. This boy replaces caffeine. Well, he could if I could trust him to taste as warm and wakey-wakey. Max energizes me with daily unpracticed brain yoga. "Everytime I fart, I get smarter".<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_6XDGMAQUFmzzQaZDAgMvim7xrEmsEzpMeitl5xdPdwymRuUUihfrMcQU4kAG7cZNsxJAYUPlB4CLD1Gb75nde2tNFbFV5aVIU0iHLy1KkDTavA7gkLZ6k5Zr0ciEyIRGvAEYEKBcsJU/s1600/IMG_2094.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_6XDGMAQUFmzzQaZDAgMvim7xrEmsEzpMeitl5xdPdwymRuUUihfrMcQU4kAG7cZNsxJAYUPlB4CLD1Gb75nde2tNFbFV5aVIU0iHLy1KkDTavA7gkLZ6k5Zr0ciEyIRGvAEYEKBcsJU/s320/IMG_2094.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615668008648495346" /></a><br />And Georgi is crawling and pulling up on everything. She hauls milk all over the place and you can hardly catch her. She's eating people food and has 5 chiclets that draw blood and smiles. <br /><br />P. S. If you haven't read 1,000 Gifts and you think I might have said something lately that was insightful, please know it came from God, was captured in the colander that is the author of that book and poured into my life through the little holes. It's heavy and weird like Jack Black. But good and life-breathing like Reese Witherspoon doing CPR.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-61869677869912596112011-05-08T19:34:00.001-07:002011-05-08T20:24:40.187-07:00I got this, Yo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqzVhYhPlirmheOl0gxX_jChDMSTj4NLrCP7vsz-qfhwsUJ254emdYuqYJlUri8z1yzGvx6RY40aAhC4deiOAn8lcR5QJmM_nWI9mqD25DIzYu1qBVBWNCE-jXzOokaNC5_f57FP2Tm0/s1600/IMG_0007.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqzVhYhPlirmheOl0gxX_jChDMSTj4NLrCP7vsz-qfhwsUJ254emdYuqYJlUri8z1yzGvx6RY40aAhC4deiOAn8lcR5QJmM_nWI9mqD25DIzYu1qBVBWNCE-jXzOokaNC5_f57FP2Tm0/s320/IMG_0007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604539304900700194" /></a><br /><br />Our colorful carousel continues to spin to sweet Calliope music. Up and down we go with a routine that feels monotonous but secure, snug and even warm. Just like my little freckled and popsicle stained face as a kid, hair tangling in the breeze as the ponies go round and round, up and down. The ride isn't exactly exhilarating, but it's predictable and fun none the less. The highs and lows ride the x axis more than the y and you never want it to stop!<br /><br />Life got easier after Monday. Monday there was no Daddy at home after school and they tested me. It was flat out exhausting to hang in there and back up my big mouth as I threatened to take away Wii or endure a 7 minute stare down to get an answer to a simple question. Stuffed animals and bedding were flung far and wide, lips jutted out and voices were pitched to a level of whining perfection only Fran Drescher would envy.<br /><br />I really believe it now. Kids truly crave structure. They are hungry for boundaries given in love. It was the love they had been missing. Their little cocoa a lait faces would twist in confusion as it slowly occurred to them I would love them as strongly as I disciplined them. And that for every harsh tone there were 10 bubbles of praise popping delightfully on their noses.<br /><br />It was a sweet week. Caton has been overjoyed at the addition of what she must consider play-slaves. Small adults created solely for her amusement. And do they ever amuse her! All she requires at her age is an audience and it's grown exponentially! <br /><br />Little baby Georgi doesn't cry for more than 2 minutes before Max is riding his white horse to her rescue. He has discovered she squeals in delight when he says "Boo" and his tender little heart cannot even be stopped by Wii Storm Troopers at the verge of rescuing the princess, he simply MUST tend to his baby sister's cry for help. Already her knight in shining Under Armour.<br /><br />School? Easy breezy. Having moved so many times, they are pros at making friends and flattering teachers. Our tight after-school schedule allows them only 15 minutes of play after we get home and before homework time. They usually want to get started on homework sooner and have enjoyed having Mommy watch them and interact with them while doing it (code for: praise me for anything because I missed out on this at age 2-4 and I really need it now). They also love to read to the babies and we keep it fresh by reading outside when weather permits.<br /><br />Another emergency technique we employed is a white board with Yays and Boos. At the realization that Daddy was the key to obedience and the missing link in their lives, we discovered that if we write on the board the Yays and Boos to discuss with Daddy when he gets home, they tend to aim high, and even compete, for Yays and would throw themselves into a snake pit before getting a Boo to discuss with Daddy. Daddy's pride and praise is the American dollar to Mommy's pesos. And that is ok by me!<br /><br />Mother's Day was four times as good as last year. Literally. One baby last Mother's Day. Four babies this year. And with that comes what all you experienced Mom's must already know....that a Mother's Day gift is more about the kids than you. I got Uno. And if you're feeling sorry for me, don't. Cause it's Uno Attack. The fancy one. That's right. We played it and laughed and then it broke. C'est La Vive.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-87616510651474758482011-05-02T19:37:00.000-07:002011-05-02T19:59:06.352-07:00Honeymoon is overI now understand that the floral, fizzy, exhilarating love bath God gave me with these kids was necessary for me to endure the pulling of the plug and draining of the water because now I'm standing naked, cold and shivering with no towel. <br /><br />Sweet holy Moses! What a day. We're back to reality. They went to school today. The morning ran smooth and according to the schedule we created. Pick up from school went well, I was 3rd in line and the kids were excited to see their baby sisters and Kayla and Kiera too. (the one and three year old I keep on M and F). They did their homework and a bit extra and then Max decided to sweep the dining room floor. Wow. Life is delicious. And then someone pulled the plug. Whining, bickering, fits, pouting, ignoring me, firm positions taken against a dinner they'd never had (pot roast) and incessant questioning was the death of a thousand cuts. None if this behavior is out of the norm for a six and eight year old, I'm sure. I just haven't had 8 years to prep for it and build a tolerance. <br /><br />There were some beautiful moments but honestly, they just got overshadowed. I will share one. This morning, when I was still a warm and caring person I explained to the children who Osama Bin Laden was and what he did (they had no idea what 9/11 was) and that he was dead and this was great news. I mentioned we should celebrate. Someone said cake. I offered Dead Osama cupcakes that we could smash to celebrate his death. Morbid? Maybe. But they'll never forget 9/11 now (can you hear Alan Jackson singing in the back ground right now?)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAh7FpAgF0NEAwBBK243pWFohooqf71uoBFolSxbaIfjRPh8Wz6nlh2vMpQUI-NLp8ngR6pVd3GWYjTG9DoZ8fsGmHYoKMOH8RYZlo5xlHIiUJLkTD1AE456OMHxzTPd-dRzV-pSaykM/s1600/IMG_2066.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAh7FpAgF0NEAwBBK243pWFohooqf71uoBFolSxbaIfjRPh8Wz6nlh2vMpQUI-NLp8ngR6pVd3GWYjTG9DoZ8fsGmHYoKMOH8RYZlo5xlHIiUJLkTD1AE456OMHxzTPd-dRzV-pSaykM/s320/IMG_2066.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602316795589730322" /></a><br /><br />I'm the only one that smashed my cupcake, but the kids retold me who he was and what he did without missing a single detail! I wonder if cupcakes can be used to teach algebra?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-74702511082486813142011-05-01T19:01:00.000-07:002011-05-01T20:19:48.633-07:00They've never been anyone's screen saver!I took their picture and saved it as my wallpaper on my phone and showed it to Max and Ridgley. You'd have thought they'd been put on the cover of Vogue. It got me thinking.....it is likely they have never been anyone's screensaver. Nor has anyone ever made them lunch to take to school. It's therefore unlikely they've ever had cut up strawberries and grapes and I know because they told me, that they've never had a turkey wrap or been driven to school. These are small things and certainly not critical to a happy childhood, but these are small things you only do when you go the extra mile for your OWN kid. Their ill grandmother, ex-stepfather, evil auntie or recent foster parents were merely keeping them alive, not loving them as their own. <br /><br />Well, they are my own now and things will be different. <br /><br />And boy are things different already. I'm writing in a fog of exhaustion surpassed only by Georgia's natural labor and delivery. It's fun and frustrating and well, nothing else really matters. I'm living in the moment and trying to keep eternity in focus. If my business falls apart, but these kids find Jesus, eternity has been my focus. If my business thrives, we get rich and these kids miss out on seeing Jesus through us, then mortality is my focus. <br /><br />In light of my determined eternal focus, I'm struggling in the area of home expansion. Maybe some of you can chime in on this. We want to convert our garage to a master bedroom, add a detached garage and be able to take in more kids. Technically, we have room for one more as is. After that, we'd need a group home designation, but we could get it by doing some extra training and adding a sprinkler system to our house (fire code). The family I mentioned recently with 12 kids has only 1900 sq. ft and a 'cabin' for their two 18 yr. old boys, so I know we don't 'need' it, but man.....it would make life easier for everyone that lived here if we had another bathroom, a pantry (which we do not have at all) and another bedroom. <br /><br />Poor Ridgley, who is sharing a room with a 6 month old and a 20 month old, already wakes up a 6am when Caton turns on her aquarium. It comforts Caton back to sleep but sweet Ridgley ran into our room this morning having no idea what that noise was. A nursery for kids 5 and under and a big girls and a big boys room seems reasonable. But the expense is more than twice what we thought it would be to convert our garage (a ghetto fix in the first place...seems we should be able to add a 2nd story for what they want to convert garage....45K). <br /><br />If you're thinking that God will provide, you're right. But hasn't he already? They have a comfortable home and if I asked Ridgley if she'd rather us use our extra 'kid money' (from the state...which is $640/mo per kid) to pay for a room that might be hers short term but that she'd later have to share, she'd MUCH rather share with her little sisters and take ballet, gymnastics and all the other fun classes and sports kids who don't belong to anyone miss out on. So, we could use that money to pay a loan payment or it can go to the INSANE grocery bill we now have , fun vacations, extra curricular activities and possibly home-schooling. <br /><br />Charles Dobson did some research that showed, when asked what they liked most about childhood, people always responded with stories about time spent with their parents. They never responded about their big house, fancy cars, nice clothes or fun toys. <br /><br />You see my predicament? (and no, we don't even have Caton in a gymnastics class even though she's the next Nadia Comaneci, because it squeezes our budget too tightly) I suppose I will lay it at the cross and await a response. But I'd love to know what you would do.<br /><br />This is Max pushing Caton on her bike that she's still too small for. He and Ridgley were riding and Caton finally got tired of watching and wanted to ride hers too. I was holding GiGi, so Max took it upon himself to get her bike out of the garage, set her on it and push her all the way down the sidewalk and back. He did this so carefully and with such vigilance that she never so much as became unsteady! Just a bit later he wiped out on his own bike and got a nasty scraped knee. He passed up dad and ran to me for comfort like he'd been breastfed too long! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjas8JbG91Da3IybBubSCNURMZT9UA0vb-e59g3VKIl_AyEGNtAPOvkJSV7e643_M2_CzNtjw4hL-0iY1VP4qgbkxsZ-I6NN5XmQ1TDE9vs-g5g08BuuEQ-NXRWounkISaH6s3Dl1XeKUQ/s1600/Max+and+CAton.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjas8JbG91Da3IybBubSCNURMZT9UA0vb-e59g3VKIl_AyEGNtAPOvkJSV7e643_M2_CzNtjw4hL-0iY1VP4qgbkxsZ-I6NN5XmQ1TDE9vs-g5g08BuuEQ-NXRWounkISaH6s3Dl1XeKUQ/s320/Max+and+CAton.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601947951580874386" /></a> HA! Sweet Mommy love! It won't be long before I have completely forgotten or ignored the fact that I did not birth these children. God has provided an eerie bond already.<br /><br /><br />On to the commitment ceremony! I merely wanted to bless the kids with given names, make them feel welcome and let them know we don't need a 6 month waiting period to see how they behave before we commit to adopting them. But the effort and love that showed up on our lawn at 5pm on Friday was breathtaking. We had balloons, neighbors, teachers, grandmothers, friends and kids we barely knew! We flashed welcome home signs with their new names on the back of the signs. Jim kicked off the whole thing by sharing 1 Samuel Chapter 1 Verse 27 and 28 "I prayed for this child and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him so now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord and he worshiped the Lord there." Then he gave them their names which they adored immediately!<br /><br />Jim blubbered a bit, but only in the most loving way that exuded his strength and authority in our household. Then Zac, our pastor, a man who while standing in our yard was booking airfare for 6 to Africa to pick up his orphan baby in just two short weeks, challenged us with a beautiful 'charge' as parents and also charged the kids with a commitment to receive love from us. It was perfect. The kids seemed to really get how serious this all was and later asked "is this whole thing just for us?". <br /><br />Today was their 2nd trip to church and they seemed right at home. They went to their classes without any hesitation and both recited their memory verses to us later. Max declared in a loud voice as our discussion about what they learned started to wind down, "I FORGIVE EVERYBODY!" and then immediately followed with "Wait, what does that mean?" Idyllic teaching moments!<br /><br />They are soaking up every bit of Bible and Jesus we will give them. It's really too easy. I can't wrap my head around the fact that I am not stealing grace from a lot of people because I simply have too much.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-28550118640373022422011-04-29T12:27:00.000-07:002011-04-29T12:54:19.470-07:00A more thoughtful postSorry for the last post and the complete disconnect from one paragraph to another. I was trying to share pictures of the little changes we did to our house to prepare for the kids. I could have deleted it or edited it now that I have a few quiet moments, but that wouldn't be true to the purpose of this blog, which is to share the insanity and sweetness of a life in foster care and adoption through the state!<br /><br />So, allow me to try once more and do some esplaining, Lucy! During my last post, I was about to leave for a play date and was trying to get a blog post with pics of the new rooms up really quickly before tonight's ceremony and before the kids destroy their rooms with all the crap they'll bring with them. (crap is a term of endearment in my vocab) So, I loaded up all the girls in the car (no small feat) and finally had silence. I decided to eek in a few paragraphs before leaving for said play date while the girls were all out in the car. But I started to worry that someone would drive off with all of them if I took too long, so I cut it short. <br /><br />By the way....THANK YOU JONEEL! The play date was a wonderful distraction! You fed my kids, they played so nicely and you fed me! I didn't even realize what a favor that was until I got home and realized all my kids were exhausted AND my house was still clean! <br /><br />I'll leave the pictures as they are in the last post and just add this one! This is Georgi's little 'room'. There is actually some play space in there too where she can sit and play without being trampled! She's been sleeping in there for a few nights now and seems to like it......at least that is what I gather when she goes to bed at 7 and doesn't wake up till 8am!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2qt-qv426xZ4S-9_H-R0qSAOZR3woA2xI0Atf98ntC1fBVD49ZSNmUWbGHuCDfu2I42nqfVzxgPr7O0zaXJ4qnyS9_Cfow-rioNnAVlUWj3ElJmJ-9MIR29OlXMPud8SKipB-TWpvMM/s1600/IMG_2045.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2qt-qv426xZ4S-9_H-R0qSAOZR3woA2xI0Atf98ntC1fBVD49ZSNmUWbGHuCDfu2I42nqfVzxgPr7O0zaXJ4qnyS9_Cfow-rioNnAVlUWj3ElJmJ-9MIR29OlXMPud8SKipB-TWpvMM/s320/IMG_2045.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601090379846949858" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-20143915554641289912011-04-29T07:19:00.001-07:002011-04-29T08:04:19.388-07:00Today is the Day! Welcome Ridgley and Max!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujFCAAFcGmlK0nVlsg1iEsXAuPCrjGf30MHpLU9y5v-EHsnBErMyoaMEBuMloDIZEB8BBcuMtdEtSPCaaX7xIQV07sCgh_56ZtT9JOTNgi7U613hIu7IxhR_M7PrpySrxEuJ36R4_aoI/s1600/IMG_2042.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujFCAAFcGmlK0nVlsg1iEsXAuPCrjGf30MHpLU9y5v-EHsnBErMyoaMEBuMloDIZEB8BBcuMtdEtSPCaaX7xIQV07sCgh_56ZtT9JOTNgi7U613hIu7IxhR_M7PrpySrxEuJ36R4_aoI/s320/IMG_2042.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601010786401392082" /></a><br /><br />Our commitment and naming ceremony will be brief but we are so blessed to have friends coming to celebrate with us! I'm trying to blog with 4 kids under age 4 whining and crying and laughing and giggling all over the house, so it'll be brief. (I watch a one and a three year old on Mondays and Fridays). <br /><br />So, it's 10am and I just loaded all the girls into the car and there they sit, watching Barney on DVD while I blog in silence. Is that wrong? I think it's just industrious. <br /><br />We have been preparing all week for the kiddos to move in today! Here are some pics of Max's Room, the Girl's room and our new entry with cubby holes for shoes and book bags, plenty of hooks, a calendar and a white board for chore tracking and notes! <br /><br />Caton, Georgia and Ridgley will share a room, but Ridgley gets bunk beds! We still have to hit up Ikea later for mattresses.<br />Georgi has a cute little nook in the closet! More pics later. Starting to worry someone might drive off with my car full of kids. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrlW92PFPZt9tUHiVjtKYVw1KIrdpd40foJXoZ10F4c13znrmIQN0I3UDNSOAiC6hppa-jYsVx48lX2G_7TZQpjuQjDTvq1UjZJPyCuXwEW0SXqdubJ9XyGlAg0sV8h6g3TCX8NEFaiU/s1600/IMG_2043.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrlW92PFPZt9tUHiVjtKYVw1KIrdpd40foJXoZ10F4c13znrmIQN0I3UDNSOAiC6hppa-jYsVx48lX2G_7TZQpjuQjDTvq1UjZJPyCuXwEW0SXqdubJ9XyGlAg0sV8h6g3TCX8NEFaiU/s320/IMG_2043.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601010613224916850" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNFPJ7kYUz2v4GFvhqANsccFCTvgSAauVp9vGn7uFCF1cbhg8UeRqtIo_0USBX9PT2fm0qlxxQOL3vlvCdvD_cnNDbYHLOx9gSjzCWcZkqMZNHf9kOuJXHf1E_CDU6krkecmCjvHMfh0/s1600/IMG_2039.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNFPJ7kYUz2v4GFvhqANsccFCTvgSAauVp9vGn7uFCF1cbhg8UeRqtIo_0USBX9PT2fm0qlxxQOL3vlvCdvD_cnNDbYHLOx9gSjzCWcZkqMZNHf9kOuJXHf1E_CDU6krkecmCjvHMfh0/s320/IMG_2039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601010454170575186" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-hgp1rjB5IaPJ2ksNw26zmjjsbvh8l7eHpNDrbTYwKg6xWb8L8JID1aKHUqn0QFuadWm9ofGGcPvhxWnBoLU3VqUOlXcOyoWfg_CWqrftmGdp4rsqox0ZWezRxtfHxyz3Q-v4fVOlIQ/s1600/IMG_2033.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-hgp1rjB5IaPJ2ksNw26zmjjsbvh8l7eHpNDrbTYwKg6xWb8L8JID1aKHUqn0QFuadWm9ofGGcPvhxWnBoLU3VqUOlXcOyoWfg_CWqrftmGdp4rsqox0ZWezRxtfHxyz3Q-v4fVOlIQ/s320/IMG_2033.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601010308712362690" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-77667876613001355992011-04-24T19:05:00.000-07:002011-04-24T20:32:08.963-07:00Bigger Happy Family<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4c_6eVUZgtiEaKYsAELuH7T_wccwI030CVNMG7AOxrxPnGueztrTkDQsfqt5UiX8jPms1RcAlvL778wYW3fyy1iasL8Wgw8_RlocRTIgTmPKjP3ixoUW2MvieWyWK8J2_1DvppuE4Xs/s1600/Happy+Family.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4c_6eVUZgtiEaKYsAELuH7T_wccwI030CVNMG7AOxrxPnGueztrTkDQsfqt5UiX8jPms1RcAlvL778wYW3fyy1iasL8Wgw8_RlocRTIgTmPKjP3ixoUW2MvieWyWK8J2_1DvppuE4Xs/s320/Happy+Family.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599338318314066754" /></a><br /><br />If I had a 10 gallon heart, it wouldn't hold all the happiness and love I feel right now. What an amazing weekend and almost all of you were part of it! I keep breathing in so deep trying to unravel and neatly organize the precious moments. <br /><br />It wasn't all fa-la-la-la-la. There were several times I felt overwhelmed. Partly because Jim was incapacitated after a minor surgery and partly because I have no idea how to divide 1000 lbs of love into 4 equal parts. Make that 5 equal parts if you count Jim.<br /><br />But overall our weekend with our new babies was divine. God made them for us. He knit them together in a random womb amidst chaos so that they could start building character by overcoming adversity from day 1 PN. (pre-natal) Then set them on a course the world would call horrific, but He calls predestined. So that by the time the super scary, extra hairy roller coaster ride is over, they land smack dab in the middle of the icing on our cake. From here, they'll learn truth. They'll meet Jesus. Done. <br /><br />That's our job. And that's it. We don't have to heal them or turn them into good students, college grads, doctors or lawyers. We just have to make sure they know Jesus. <br /><br />We asked them how they felt about allowing us to name them. The suggestion was met with enthusiasm until I told them that I'd wrap them in baby blankets and snuggle them like newborn babies while issuing names like Pinkus and Petunia. Not really. <br /><br />I carefully explained it was their choice and they could also choose to keep their first names as their middle names. They want totally new names. <br /><br />What a cool parallel this is to being born again. A new name. A new start. It doesn't erase your past, it just makes it less consequential to your future. Who wouldn't choose this little token of such a life altering moment. <br /><br />From the moment they walked in the door, it was love at first sight. Mommy, Daddy, Sister, Brother. They totally embraced everything about our family. Jaylon stated to us that we'd be adopting him. Yes please. Because they don't really remember their mom, there are no torn loyalty issues or separation anxiety. Their maternal grandmother has raised them from ages 2 and 3. She has MS and physically can't care for them which is how they ended up in CPS and then in 2 other family members homes and 1 foster home in the last 18 months. She is a great influence and is the reason they are so amazing and I'll give credit to the foster family too for teaching them discipline and boundaries. She'll continue to be in their lives and hopefully you'll all meet her......I guess we'll be adopting her too.<br /><br />Tonight they had to go back to their foster home till Friday. This weekend was supposed to be a test drive. Can you believe that? A test drive. And the 6 month waiting period before legal adoption consummation can occur is another test drive. So if they misbehave or disappoint us we can give them back. Ouch. It hurts me FOR them to even think of it. <br /><br />We don't want them to know anything about the 6 month waiting period or the potential for the evil aunt to appeal the court's decision. They are ours in our hearts and in our home. They don't need to concern themselves with the details of our jacked up legal system. <br /><br />When they arrive on Friday, we'll have a commitment ceremony and give them their new names. We'll pray, eat some hot dogs, spray some silly string, suffer a few mosquito bites and call it one of the best days of our lives. It'll all go down around 5:30. The foster family is going to be there and hopefully their Grandma too....so if you decide to join us, don't be surprised. The kids still call them Mom and Dad (we are "mommy" and "daddy") and their daughter, Taylor, will always be their sister. They'll come to us with very few gold nuggets so we'll let them hang on to all the good they can cling to. I know you are all dying to know their names so I'm just going to tell you in case you want to show up and bring a card or anything personalized.<br /><br />Ridgley Rhiann<br />and<br />Max Ryan<br /><br />A few of you have already asked what you can bring and invited yourself and that is touching since we didn't expect much involvement. If you want to be here, you are welcome to attend and we'd like to suggest you bring a little something that is meaningful to your family so that as you present it to them you can explain why it was important to you as a kid or something along those lines. We just want to celebrate the idea of family. We do not want to shower them with toys. Instead, let's flood them with love and sentiment about what it means to be a forever family.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-23284383451480135722011-04-22T06:27:00.000-07:002011-04-22T08:13:49.985-07:00Meeting our Kids Today: April 22, 2011We will meet our children today. Licensed for foster care and adoption 11 months ago, we did not know this would happen so soon or at all. We set out to simply see where God would lead us. Would we only foster many children for short periods of time? Would we adopt a sibling group of 3? Would we become overrun with fear and quit the whole thing? <br /><br />There are so many things to be afraid of, unless you daily apply Light to your lie. The lie is that life would be sweeter for Caton and Georgia if we didn't risk their health and emotional well-being by bringing strange and traumatized children into our home. If this was a 20/20 episode, just about everyone would agree. But our life is not dictated by the concerns of the secular world. What they worry about, I will rejoice over. What they fear, I will embrace. Because if God is for us, who can be against us? <br /><br />Soap box be gone. And if I sound preachy....it's just me reminding myself of the mission.<br /><br />Okay, so since that last paragraph, the current foster mom for these kids, Jaylon and Brianna called. Wow. Interesting conversation since I have judged their family pretty harshly for dumping these kids. Her excuse was that their 7 year old is too close in age to Jaylon and Brianna (7 and 9) and that she felt like she was always correcting one and not the other and afraid of the damage it would do for them to think they weren't loved as much as the bio kids. Well, all siblings have that battle, so it's not a valid reason. But she said one thing that might let her off the hook in my eyes. She said "you can love them better". If she couldn't daily decide to love them regardless of her emotional lack of gushing gooey tenderness, then maybe it is better this way. <br /><br />The thing I was most afraid of is these kids feeling like someone decided they did not want them. The therapist told the foster parents to tell them that the judge decided they'll never have to see their aunt again (she abused them and was appealing for custody) but that he decided for them to live with a different family. I'm cool with this. Yes, it lets the current foster family off the hook, but it's so much better for the kids to think a 3rd party made this decision than to feel dumped.<br /><br />The reason for her call was to clue me in on the judge-made-the-decision conversation she had with the kids and to tell me how excited they are to meet their new Mommy and Daddy. Deeeeeeep Breath. I didn't see it coming. I expected pain and sorrow and skepticism from these kids. But God gave us giddy, excited, can't wait to meet you instead. He's cool like that. <br /><br />We are prepared for a long hard battle to over-come bad behaviors, lying as a way of life, bed wetting, etc. But it wouldn't surprise me at all if God gives us a much easier road because we have not tried to control this process at all. We kept ourselves wide open to foster or adopt. To boys or girls. To age 0 or 18. To good kids or bad kids. We simply had faith in God's hand in this. We used discernment where necessary, followed the nudging of the Holy Spirit and kept Satan at bay through scripture meditation. Obedience is all that is required. God doesn't want misery in our lives. He just wants us to be okay with it if that's what he decides. Whatever He wants. We'll see. <br /><br />If I sound like I am tooting my own horn. I am. I feel good that I overcame all the things I blogged about last year. I renewed my mind so that I could know God's perfect plan. And now I have few doubts that this weekend will be anything less than a celebration of the union of our family to our long lost children. <br /><br />See ya at church this Sunday! You know wanna get a good look at 'em!<br /><br />I can't WAIT to post pics of Jaylon and Brianna playing with Caton and Georgia. My next post should be so much more colorful and look out for that Christmas card this year!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-74399169386259748112011-04-20T19:32:00.000-07:002011-04-20T20:40:33.309-07:00It's Raining, It's Pouring<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrhsfoa1XFG2aSWWVkVnD6GILanxBfFSr9E_ZjZFNYy8CwRTOQg1XrO317uVO_gxFwbb3MRmnknPo1dsLZMEYf6YlAtNU3ZUIdil_6RUd5fbLOUqtniOjw5oc0Klp6hZ-o1QDkea1AlQ/s1600/IMG_0005.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrhsfoa1XFG2aSWWVkVnD6GILanxBfFSr9E_ZjZFNYy8CwRTOQg1XrO317uVO_gxFwbb3MRmnknPo1dsLZMEYf6YlAtNU3ZUIdil_6RUd5fbLOUqtniOjw5oc0Klp6hZ-o1QDkea1AlQ/s320/IMG_0005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597859279544213010" /></a><br /><br />So adoptable and foster children really do grow on trees! Foster kids come into the system by the dozens, daily. As rights are terminated, they become adoptable. <br /><br />We were finally told we were not selected for the 3 kids recently mentioned. But right before we found out, our caseworker called to explain that we had been selected for 2 other kids ages 7 and 9, boy and girl who have been in 4 homes in the last year. Yikes.<br /><br />Yesterday we got word about being chosen for 2 little darlings ages 5 and 7 who are cute as pie, but pretty jacked up with bed wetting, seizures, etc. Again, Yikes.<br /><br />And today learned a caseworker thinks we are a good fit for an 8 year old whose father killed her mother. "Yikes" just doesn't work for this one.<br /><br />All this 'being chosen' means nothing except we are "in consideration". Apparently a caseworker can love you and think you're perfect for a particular kid(s), but a supervisor can swoop in and deliver your bundle of joy to another family. So we are being considered for all these kids and there's a good chance none of them could end up in our home. <br /><br />So we are in limbo and that's an okay place to be. Things are predictable right now. Things are simple and sweet. Any day now, it could all change. Jim was saying earlier today that he feels like he is a servant waiting on the sidelines to be utilized. And we have been obedient. So, even if we aren't filled to the brim with orphans, we are waiting on the edge of the cliff ready to jump as soon as God blows the whistle. It's a scary place to be, but so very exciting and very alive.<br /><br />And speaking of alive....if you're feeling numb and want to be spiritually moved to the point of physical nausea, read One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are. First chapter almost made me throw up I was so shaken.<br /><br />On another note, we visited a foster/adoptive family in Godley, TX on Sunday with 20 kids. Twelve kids in their home, eight have moved out and on their own. This family was a blast to watch. It was very normal, if you can believe it. All shapes, sizes and levels were represented. The story of their daughter, Matti and how she came to live with them is something I am hoping she can share with our church soon. At age 15, she speaks to churches about God's grace and miracles and can minister to the hearts of men, women and children much older. I learned so much from meeting these people who have been a part of tremendous joy and heart wrenching sorrow yet they plow away and are knocking down doors, hallways and ceilings to try and squeeze more kids into their lives. Ask me sometime to share a few of their stories. Some hilarious and some sad, but all of them are evidence of God's grace. <br /><br />I learned from this very experienced family that I will have to accept foster and/or adoptive children as they are and embrace their limitations. I learned I can endure unimaginable sorrow and still go on and continue to help kids. Because, in the end, none of this is about our family dynamics and wanting a house full of pitter pattering feet. It's about a reckless pursuit of Christ....the kind that makes people think we are a little bit crazy, a lot in over our heads, dangerously close to disaster, putting our bio-kids at risk and ill-equiped to manage it all. Right where He wants us. Right where we have to be in order to grow, the exact spot where Grace is tangible and there are enough holes ripped into our life that we can see God more clearly.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-77917880070252384012011-04-04T20:05:00.000-07:002011-04-04T20:30:16.604-07:00We got selected! Sorta.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lJErXgQ1KB1ln9SP1FEiLnWNictg-9nunRj5dFndppfXVb2BcKXLo31Od04tIY1X9-pTXZhoySJYPtYETmE30WE4HNzivPdKDz0WM5mXU_csQ9A5ruBLUNgYBGU_aXx2NXKtzWML3BA/s1600/IMG_1952.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lJErXgQ1KB1ln9SP1FEiLnWNictg-9nunRj5dFndppfXVb2BcKXLo31Od04tIY1X9-pTXZhoySJYPtYETmE30WE4HNzivPdKDz0WM5mXU_csQ9A5ruBLUNgYBGU_aXx2NXKtzWML3BA/s320/IMG_1952.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591930711247749314" /></a><br /><br />Walks on the beach with just Caton and Daddy while Mommy holds sweet little Georgi are likely to be a thing of the past. We have been initially chosen (okay, actually, we were 2nd choice when the 1st choice people became unavailable) for a sibling group of 3. We are one of a few families initially chosen, so we aren't the definite choice. They are gorgeous Hispanic children ages 6, 9 and 11. The middle is a boy and the youngest and oldest are girls. Here's a summary of their description and almost the ONLY information we have besides some photos: <br /><br />" Enjoy interacting with one another and other children and able to express themselves in positive ways. They each have lots of talent, good grades, are active and can accomplish many wonderful things if they just have a family who enjoys communicating, playing games with them, is active in their hobbies and will encourage them". <br /><br />With a description like that, who wouldn't want these kids! And there is likely more to the story, but it's a good starting place! There is a meeting between the CPS workers and our agent advocate on April 14. At this meeting the agents for each family pre-selected will advocate for their family and express why their family is the best choice and ask specific questions that we would want to know. We are supposed to give them a list of questions and a photo book that expresses the nature of our family. It's such a huge task to think of a few questions we want to know about them. How do you narrow it down? Here's a few I have come up with:<br /><br />1. Any aggression toward younger kids?<br />2. What's the worst or most troublesome thing each kid has done?<br />3. What is the makeup of the current foster placement? How many kids, etc?<br />4. How do they feel about being adopted?<br />5. Have any of them shown a problem with attachment?<br />6. Faith background? Attending church and what kind? Enjoy it or just go-along?<br />7. What talents, specifically, does each posses?<br /><br />And none of these questions are deal breakers (unless they have burned a house down), more just curiosity so we can start daydreaming about the family dynamics.<br /><br />If we are selected after this meeting, we will read their file, then wait for a month or so until all of their latest psych-evals are completed and then start visiting the kids.<br /><br />They will have to live with us for 6 months before the adoption can be consummated, but there shouldn't be any road blocks since parents rights were terminated last July and no family members have come forward.<br /><br />Exciting stuff. Please pray for these kids, that their advocates will place them with the family that will lead them to Christ most effectively.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-6667748964666697012011-03-22T12:30:00.001-07:002011-03-22T13:25:30.675-07:00Adoption Applications and Foster Licensing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdVtkAnsBOzAOThGZqv9a4x05oGADrUjlYEsmex7MOWwlJWy83ijzkswIlTkPhjdWSPaVvPHBCOZnyQ2x36VREV9NSlimdFplXwC42drhwVf7xuJcjDEmh00XdBmAaKGJ6cFazGZPokUk/s1600/IMG_2006.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdVtkAnsBOzAOThGZqv9a4x05oGADrUjlYEsmex7MOWwlJWy83ijzkswIlTkPhjdWSPaVvPHBCOZnyQ2x36VREV9NSlimdFplXwC42drhwVf7xuJcjDEmh00XdBmAaKGJ6cFazGZPokUk/s320/IMG_2006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586996568523975122" /></a><br /><br />Can't believe it has been only 6 months since Jason and Ciara went home! It actually feels like a lifetime ago! Since then, Georgi was born and is now practically walking...okay, not really, but she is a CHUNK of baby meat that cannot keep a smile to herself! And I have learned so much about myself and what I expect and don't expect out of children that may someday live in our house! <br /><br />We have done respite care <span style="font-style:italic;">(keeping foster kids for more than 48 hours)</span> for several families and have learned that we do not want a baby under 12 months. Walking is a must! And have learned that I really prefer and adore girls. "PINK it up" is our motto in this house! Poor Jim is living in a barbie dream world. Poor Jim, HA! He beamed while putting together a pink kitchen last night and recently suggested painting our bedroom pink. (just checking to see if he is reading this). While I lean toward girls, I would love to see the world through the eyes of a mommy with boys and I'd be so proud for Jim to pour into some male souls all the wisdom, strength and tenderness he has cultivated over the years. <br /><br />So we don't have any new foster kids right now, but I am keeping a 3 year old and a 1 year old on Mondays and Fridays and their mom keeps my girls on Wednesdays (and pays me for the extra day). It has been wonderful to have a day to myself every week and I have bonded strongly with these sweet girls! I have also figured out how to go places all by myself with 4 kids ages 3 and under! I can't be shy about asking strangers for help, <span style="font-weight:bold;">It takes a village</span>, but we do it and we have fun and I haven't left anyone behind yet. I'm much more confident now that I have practiced and I feel totally ready, even eager, for the challenge of at least 4 kids! <br /><br />In other news, we have submitted our home study for 4 groups of kids, none of whom we are likely to be chosen for. Sigh. Why you ask? Really, you have to ask? We've only been married 3.75 years, we have both been married before, we have two young baby girls requiring a lot of attention and we have a shady past. So, there ya go. On paper, next to the Hutchins family, we ain't gonna shine! BUT, that only means that straight adoption (applying for kids who are legally free to be adopted) probably isn't going to happen for us. We can still adopt through foster care. If we foster kids whose parents end up losing their rights and there are no relatives who qualify to take them, then we'd get the kids....if we wanted them. CPS isn't as picky about foster parents as they are about adopted parents because foster families are rare and they are always anxious to place kids quickly assuming they will go back home. But only 40% of kids in foster care end up back at home permanently. So in order to keep things as continuous as possible for these poor children, it's preferable that the foster family who has had them for a year or more ends up adopting. <span style="font-style:italic;">(and as a reminder to those of you who aren't familiar with the system, parents have about a year to 'win' back their kids by working programs like rehab, parenting classes, therapy, etc. If they fail to do this, rights are terminated. But of course there are lots of opportunities to appeal or for family members to step in and claim them, so the process is long and grueling and heart wrenching for everyone).<br /></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYcPtSFK0YmmQfckhMEiQr4E03Je1kis064toJtFwasWUxc3f2-c-aaP_iu7tk9wLqHM9UpW4m85v9iSDEmimQzJK7nB6vIqpdkEMSE8BLaIAOoQDJlN3AhUIjhIm8iX2t9_kU6Hc51Y/s1600/IMG_0430.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYcPtSFK0YmmQfckhMEiQr4E03Je1kis064toJtFwasWUxc3f2-c-aaP_iu7tk9wLqHM9UpW4m85v9iSDEmimQzJK7nB6vIqpdkEMSE8BLaIAOoQDJlN3AhUIjhIm8iX2t9_kU6Hc51Y/s320/IMG_0430.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587002149708902562" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">In this picture to the left, our kids and 3 others on a 'practice' weekend! I'm excited for this to be our norm!</span> <br /><br />So, right now we are waiting for a call for either foster or to be notified that we've been selected for one of the groups of kids we submitted our home study for. If, by a small miracle, we are selected for the adoptable kids, we'd be able to read the file on the children and learn all about them. If we don't come across info that scared us away, like a history of aggression toward younger kids or something like that, we'd proceed by meeting the kids, then an overnight visit, then slowly transitioning them out of their current foster home and into ours. <span style="font-style:italic;">(if you're wondering why the current foster parents aren't keeping them, it's because many families feel called to ONLY FOSTER, not adopt. That is super needed and very admirable and usually done by families with older kids who just want to help but don't want to be "lifers".)</span><br /> <br />The kink in this plan is that Jim and I both have to take a class called BCMT every year to keep our license active and we are due to have it before the end of March. It's offered on Saturdays. Not usually an option for me in the Springtime with wedding season in full bloom. Jim will attend this Saturday and I'm going to sneak into the last half hour of the class (after my wedding party is fully beautified) and hope they put me through. Otherwise, our license will be suspended until I can take the class and the April class date doesn't work for me either! UG! Maybe this is God's plan to keep is 'free' until just the right kids for us come available. I love it when He protects us from ourselves!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR27Bao6Yh2zDs_murR9ArLBJ8tD2M87oAqTj-kRgiuPNsqdi0dQlByzp95vN-kaJnb6LYkcMnZ9bXVHgO-qqZNFhG2tC5R_X7QnxTbCo7A8T7LCKQ3BTktgQQeouo143W3dx36_42ing/s1600/IMG_2025.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR27Bao6Yh2zDs_murR9ArLBJ8tD2M87oAqTj-kRgiuPNsqdi0dQlByzp95vN-kaJnb6LYkcMnZ9bXVHgO-qqZNFhG2tC5R_X7QnxTbCo7A8T7LCKQ3BTktgQQeouo143W3dx36_42ing/s320/IMG_2025.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586990751214217170" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-51731147057285066062010-09-03T07:22:00.000-07:002010-09-03T08:05:40.431-07:00And POOF, they are gone!Why has it taken so long to blog now that I have the freedom to do so? Deep down, probably, because I'm not really proud of the job I did with our first foster kids. I imagined sitting around the table discussing Jesus and telling Bible stories and having long, meaningful conversations. I did not anticipate the reality of a 12 year old girl who really didn't care for me all that much and a precious newborn who'd steal my heart.<br /><br />They were here for 10 weeks. That's a very short time given that the average length of time in any foster home is 8-9 months. They went to the grandparents. This was a good thing. We weren't saddened much at all. I had met the grandparents and we'd had lots of phone conversations and they had pretty much raised the 12 year old girl anyway. She was VERY happy to go and the baby was still young enough that he didn't really care who was meeting his needs. He's an easy baby and always was and I had no doubts he'd be well cared for and protected. <br /><br />There is a chance they could come back. If the grandparents aren't protective and don't do a good job keeping the parents away from the kids, then they'll likely come back here. The first thing CPS asked when they picked them up was "can they come back?". This would be devastating for the 12 year old. Not because she hated us, but because it would mean her grandparents failed in addition to her parents and the school change would be tough. <br /><br />So, how did we do? Jim was amazing with the girl and I felt like I loved on that baby boy as well as could possibly be expected. However, Jim's love for the baby and my love for the girl, were not always evident....or in existence at all, truth be told. <br /><br />Months of foster parenting classes had us ready for kicking, screaming, masturbating, urinating, foul-mouthed cussing, physical attacks and overall hatred of us, our home and our baby girl. We didn't get any of that. You might be thinking we got lucky, huh? Well, sure. Except all the preparation we'd done mentally, emotionally and intellectually was for out of control kids. We got a helpful 12 year old and a tiny sweet baby who slept far better than ours ever did. No tantrums, no defiance, no raised voices! Yet, somehow it was harder than I ever thought it would be. I still can't really explain why. It's all internal and I'm not sure I've digested it all except I was never prepared to be the one foster parent NOT liked by a 12 year old girl. I mean, REALLY? I'm a 12 year old girl's dream come true! I do hair and makeup, I'm hip and cool and love doing crafty stuff and reading Twilight books and watching silly girly movies. Come on! I was NOT prepared for Jim to be the hero and me the competition for his affection. Maybe I shoulda seen that coming? <br /><br />There were some really hard times where she admitted to us or told CPS about areas in which I was failing her and she was right! She complained to CPS that I spent too much time on my computer.......and I did. There were days I totally avoided her and buried myself in my "work" (yeah, right) so I didn't have to engage. Another time she complained that I rolled my eyes when she talked to her Mom on the phone. OMG.....did she actually see that? Apparently she did and I confess. I was SO annoyed with the silliness of those fake conversations and I could not seem to help myself from exhibiting my disgust. How awful! That poor girl! And here I am thinking I am doing her some sort of favor? <br /><br />You really should be a bigger person than I am if you're going to do this. My arrogance was out of control!<br /><br />Okay, enough beating myself up. I will say that I am very proud of the marriage we displayed to her. We argued well, we were appropriately affectionate, she verbalized 'amazement' at our desire to enjoy quality time with each other that was not sexual. Many foster kids never see healthy adult relationships and therefore have no idea what might be wrong with their relationships later in life. But once they see Godly love among a man and a wife, they'll know something is missing or that it doesn't have to be 'this way' later on when they are in a less than standard relationship. I know this because I never saw a good relationship until I was 22. Seriously. I never witnessed a man who cherished his wife until I was 22. And I was a changed person after that. I almost immediately broke up with the guy I was with (who was nothing like what I had just witnessed) and while it took many years to fully elevate my standards, the bar had been set and I was on my up the ladder.<br /><br />Another thing I want to say, on a positive note, is how amazing all the CPS people were that we worked with. They were professional and caring and even intimately encouraging to me as an individual when needed. I didn't expect this either. I felt very much like we were the only family on their 'books'. The reality is our agency worker has 50+ cases and the CPS workers probably have more than that. How they were able to respond so quickly and so patiently is beyond me.<br /><br />Will we do it again? After Georgia is born (Oct. 19 due date) I'm sure we will re-assess. As of right now, if I had to make a choice about how to honor God with the calling he laid on our hearts, I'd pursue adoption of 2 boys (older than the girls, maybe 2-5 years old) from the foster care system. But, I'm sure as we put more distance between this experience and the next, we will forget just how hard it was and have a hard time saying no if we were called to do it again. I'd probably be able to say NO to teenage girls pretty easily.....not because they are awful, but because I AM! And I'm pretty sure Jim would leave me if I said yes to another baby! So, we'd have new qualifications this time, where we had none the first time.<br /><br />Where was God in this? We were like soldiers ready for battle screaming "Give me Foster Kids or Give me Death....We Want to Jump Off the Cliff!" and His response was the two easiest children who ever entered the system. Hmmm. I think that is God's way of saying "Oh, you're both so cute how you think you can handle anything. You can't. You're still being molded and you're still very immature. Let's work on some personal growth, shall we?"<br /><br />He did work in our hearts and I know seeds were planted in the kid's lives. I wish we'd been more intentional and we now know so much more about our spiritual leadership capabilities where kids are concerned. We have work to do!<br /><br />We are so grateful for all of the support and love and funding and clothes and toys and beds and car seats you all provided. We never would have done this without the support of Austin Bible as a whole.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7983117107324634583.post-24865807212893274022010-05-29T16:20:00.000-07:002010-06-23T18:49:43.725-07:00They're HERE........It's been 7 weeks since our home study. It took awhile to get officially licensed. Apparently the home study 'studiers' conduct and write the studies on their own time. It's like an extra job and can't be typed up while working regular hours at the agency. That's why it takes so long. Well, that and that it's 30 pages single type. After it gets typed, two people at the agency have to read it and proof it. This, apparently takes even longer! On Thursday morning we got an email saying we were being officially licensed that very moment and that it would take the state of Texas 24 hours to issue a number to us. <br /><br />Only a little more than 24 hours later, we got a call! I was in Dallas doing a wedding partie's hair and makeup (or about to walk in to it) and Jim was in Alvarado in a court hearing. My mom was watching Caton. <br /><br />The call was calm and polite. The agency has a 'placement coordinator' who does these calls, so you're not talking to the people you've come to know at the agency. She simply said, as if it's not a big deal at all, "we are having a hard time placing a sibling group due to the age gap. The girl is 12 yrs old and her baby brother was born yesterday. We thought of you guys and thought you might be able and interested." To which I responded "Uh. Ummm. Okay." With all the grace and articulation of Beavis or Butthead.<br /><br />Jim got home first, around 7pm and started to wash crib sheets, pull out baby gear and dear friends delivered food, diapers, clothes and other essentials we were lacking. <br /><br />The CPS worker who drove the kids from the Houston area to Austin arrived about a quarter to nine and I arrived about 10 minutes later. Very odd to walk into your home where children are waiting for you already. I had REALLY wanted to greet them with both of us home. But, it was much more seemless than I thought. My darling husband was holding the baby and the girl was checking out her room. We did paperwork for what seemed like 2 hours. I was on an adreniline high, for sure! We learned a lot, but still feel like we know very little. <br /><br />We were permitted to let her call her mother and grandfather this morning. Her mother and I spoke and she was very kind, grateful and concerned about her kids. It all seemed very genuine and she asked the right questions to show real concern and thanked me and said she will set things right.<br /><br />Today has been pretty fun. We had a great big breakfast together, blueberry waffels (homemade by my loving husband) and turkey bacon. My sweet mother ran to the store for syrup when we realized we had none. <br /><br />Caton met the baby and his big sister and is intrigued. She seems to be showing off a bit for them. She gently (well, sorta gently) touches the baby and hasn't quite warmed up to big sis yet. Overall, she is doing fine with the whole arrangement.<br /><br />We had a massive shopping trip to buy new clothes for big sister and some groceries and other necessities. Her clothes smelled pretty bad and she only has t-shirts and hole-ridden jeans. We bought her a swim suit, shoes, a dress, skirt and some cute tops. She also got new PJs and underwear. She was not greedy at the store, but offered her opinions when asked what she liked. She sings in the car, which is adorable and she has my husband hooked on America's Next Top Model. Seriously, they just watched 5 episodes and are commenting as if they are fashion photographers! <br /><br />Both babies and I had a big nap this afternoon and we are all down for watching the UFC fight tonight! I know....sounds like a lot of TV watching, but it's Saturday........and we are still learning to be comfortable around each other, although I'm far more comfortable than I thought I would be and I think we all are. Sorta seems like family already.<br /><br />Thank you for your prayers and offers of help. We are doing exceptionally well, but won't hesitate to ask for help if needed!<br /><br />God clearly orchestrated this whole thing and His love is overwhelmingly obvious in our home right now. He has given me peace and patience and energy, just as requested. <br /><br />Please pray for the mother. This is just the sort of thing that leads one to her knees and before Christ. I ache for her more than I thought I could and I know this is the Holy Spirit offering supernatural compassion that I don't normally have. I genuinely want her to get better and be reunited....ONLY if it's healthy and safe, but none the less, to have her children back in her arms and a new life in Christ to share with them.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10