See, I've honestly sat down over 5 times over the past 6-9 months to write this entry to no avail. It hasn't been writers block - no. It's been something completely different. Something spiritual in nature - but I'll get to that shortly. Every time I've sat to write, I've known exactly what I want and need to convey - but the words do not freely come out.
Then there are Sunday mornings. We go to a wonderful church 45 minutes from our home, and I volunteer with production of services. What does that mean? It means a kid-free commute to church, blasting Jobe, Tomlin, Elevation, etc. in pure praise and worship bliss for this mama. And my thoughts/message/what-have-you come into clear focus. Like this morning.
So as I sit here during sound check, I'm furiously typing my post in my notes app on my phone (sorry, Jason - promise I'm paying attention!).
We began our journey into the world of foster care rather abruptly, impulsively, and naively. Yes, I knew what to expect. But i didn't know what to expect. And almost 10 months into living out this calling, I'm still being blindsided with lessons and knowledge and information - both positive and negative in nature.
In 10 months, we've had three placements, meaning we've had three little kiddos placed with us. Both boy and girl. All between toddler to age 4. All from different backgrounds/situations. And all with different (types of) parents. And that last factor is where the focus of this post lies.
When people say a child is in foster care, others automatically assume the worst - this poor, helpless child is in a situation beyond their control and shame on those (insert descriptors of choice) parents. They don't deserve to have this precious child.
I'm not saying that the assumptions made are off base - often they aren't. Often, assumptions made can sometimes be too sterile. Too watered down. Sorry to say, but foster care and the worlds our children come from are often indescribably ugly.
But see, that's the thing - we talk about "their worlds" as if they're from some far off planet. But they aren't. We're all coexisting in this fallen world we all share - often coexisting frankly too close for comfort.
And I'll be honest, I feel as if I'm rather open-minded when it comes to many scenarios we are faced with in this. I understand people/parents make mistakes. That doesn't mean their children shouldn't be removed for safety. But it also doesn't mean the parent shouldn't be able to learn, improve, and better themselves for their child. Often, these parents were children who 20+ years ago were in similar situations that their children now find themselves in. They may have been helped. They may not have been. A lot of times these parents are traumatized kids in adult clothing.
But we've also experienced extreme circumstances. Extreme parents (we've actually been told by a parent that we are the reason their child was taken away). Extreme reasons why a child was removed from their home. And it throws all of the above I talked about out the window in my mind, quite frankly. So back to my talking point: the parents.
This has been my spiritual struggle and journey the past (almost) year: rectifying and resolving in my heart, mind, and soul how "my" God can love "these people" like he loves me - like He's my possession.
Call it being closed minded. Call it being ignorant. Call it being caught in my earthly pride. Call it spiritual narcissism (I find this last one rather ironic given our situation, so I chose to use this one when conceptualizing my thoughts). Call it whatever you want.
But I know it's wrong. And at times, it's made me mad. Confused. Conflicted.
We have experienced quite a bit with our kiddos. Especially when it comes to their parents. One parent I had a phone number for and could call freely if I needed. One who we've been ordered to have no contact with no matter the circumstance. So yeah - we've experienced quite varying extremes.
And at times I've felt so alone. Not solitary, because I have the most amazingly supportive husband who had journeyed through this all with me, equally (and sometimes has experienced more extreme situations even more so than myself). But I've felt like we have been alone through this the majority of the time. We can't talk about our kiddos stories, situations, circumstances, etc. And often I wouldn't even if I could - it does no good to my kiddos to have everyone around them knowing their personal business, even at their young ages. And what we can/do share, people don't necessarily understand how it differs from "typical" family life.
"Oh, she threw an epic tantrum? She just needs to have stricter consequences."
"Oh, he cries uncontrollably at the drop of a hat? You need to get that under control."
(Neither of the above have been expressed to us directly, but we have gotten similar comments in the past)
Never mind our kids have experienced trauma outside of our doing and beyond our control. Never mind our kids have been exposed to violence and substances and just the unimaginable - none of it our doing, but still impacting our daily lives. Never mind we are tasked with the job of helping these kids get better when the very system that took them away to begin with immediately begins to reunify them and expose them to these factors again (and again, trust me, I'm very much PRO-reunification -when appropriate - I'm just trying to point out the daily discrepancies and difficulties we face in this).
See how it could wear on you? Make you feel isolated and alone? Even make you (very) bitter at times?
And for a while, that bitterness was my safe spot - not going to lie. I reasoned in my mind, "I couldn't imagine doing (x-y-or-z) to this precious child..." like it made me more godly and less human than I am. But that's just it: I am human. 100%. And the same God who was gracious enough to love me and lift me out of my fallen state did the exact same for the kiddos in my home.
And their parents.
I can't look at my kiddos and tell them Jesus loves you and how Great God is, and turn around and deceive myself about God's same love, grace, and acceptance for their parents. It doesn't help me - it actually cripples me and my mind. And it certainly doesn't help effectively teach these precious kiddos the true message and meaning of God's love.
Then one day, probably back in February (see, this has been a very long struggle in my heart and soul), "Unto Your Name" by Elevation Worship came on in the car. And one line stood out and struck me. 4 words.
"You alone are good"
Let me clarify. Nowhere in that does it have an "and" or "but". It doesn't say "You alone are good, but Lindsay's pretty high up there too." It's a simple, finite statement: God and God alone is good. He is the very definition of good. And everything and everyone else is not.
The point is clear: God loves my kiddos parents even when they are unloveable. God is gracious to them even when they have done terrible, unimaginable things. And God wants them - wants them to turn to Him (if they haven't already), follow Him, love Him.
And my take home has been this: God loves ME (and has loved me) even when I'm unloveable - and heaven knows I have been and can be at times. God is gracious (and has been gracious) to ME even when I have done terrible, unimaginable things. And God wanted ME to turn to Him that day in 1991 when I gave my life to him forever, and He wants me to continue to submit to Him daily.
I'm no different than my kiddos parents - I'm a fallen, flawed human who messes up daily. Amazingly, though, I am saved through indescribable grace. And that's nothing exclusive to me - that same grace and love is extended to EVERYONE without exclusion.
And that is the difference - there is no difference. If there was, my God would not be so. That's where my struggle has remained, and I continue to battle off conflicting, intrusive thoughts on a daily basis.
To listen to the song mentioned earlier: http://youtu.be/XwD178Ru6Pk
