So, I admit it....I am a HORRIBLE BLOGGER! I have always loved to write, have always done well with creative writing projects and the like, so naturally I thought in this age of technology, I'd be an awesome blogger. Nope. All day long thoughts go through my head. Amazing, witty, and sometimes enlightened thoughts. But the practicality of sitting down and typing them out, actually slowing them down so that I can process them into key strokes, is often the most daunting task.
I also expected there to be more to report on this journey. Almost two years in, I thought we would be on our second or third placement. I thought court and visitations would have come and gone several times over. I thought by now we would have this crazy extended ministry family of birth parents, foster kids, and a community that has grown together through interesting circumstances. Yet, the truth is, we are still on our first placement. We have not been able to form a relationship of ministry with birth parents, and I don't know that we are any closer to adoption then when we started.
I am a fast paced person. Once I start something, I chew it up and spit it out. I have read three books in the past two weeks. If I begin a book, you can bet it will be finished quickly. Not because I am a fast reader, but because I DESPISE having unfinished stuff out there. If moving or returning from a trip, I unpack immediately. Ask Papa. If we start a project...it will be finished shortly after it has begun. So, you can imagine my anxiety over something that has drug on for almost two years with no movement in either direction.
Now, wait. That's not fair. There has been movement. Movement that far surpasses court papers and name changes. Our kids have moved. They have moved beyond fear and hunger, to the peace and fullness of family. They are learning who they are and all the amazing things they are capable of. They are learning trust and relational bonds that outside of foster care, would have been most certainly impossible. They are learning they are loved.
Believe it or not, that last one is pretty tricky. Our kids are not easy kids. Many kids from trauma are not your typical, fun loving kids. Kiddos who have experienced trauma are often impulsive, loud, profane, violent, disrespectful, and impatient little people. But who can blame them? People, big grown up adult people, have let them down time and time again. In their short little lives they have learned not to trust, that they have no voice, and that this world is every man for themselves.
So, while they are pretty stinkin' cute, they are not always the easiest to love. Foster parenting can be lonely sometimes. You have these little souls in your care, and you have built a relationship of trust with them because this is your calling. You have chosen this, gone to training about the possibilities, prepared yourself for what trauma may be entering your life. However, to take those little souls to school, church, or extra curricular activities....you are bringing their baggage to people who didn't necessarily sign up for that big of a load.
Relationships. Big or small, relationships matter. How we treat one another matters. We do not know the life or path someone else has walked. Some people are really great actors, and they aren't the ones you watch on TV. Things may look good not the outside, but inside they are crumbling.
***WARNING: you are approaching a soapbox.....I repeat, soapbox approaching!!***
I really think in this technologically advanced world, we have forgotten how to relate to actual humans. You know the face to face kind of discussions, where you smile at one another and make eye contact, or you hide your tear filled eyes and they place a hand on your shoulder?? I believe people no longer know how to handle one another and our emotions without a cute little yellow 'emoticon'. I mean think about it, they have developed a way to convey emotions when using a type based media.
I am grateful beyond words for the people that are willing to form relationships with my wacky kiddos. Those people that look beyond the wild, loud, and messy little person and see a heart longing to know they are loved. They missed that you know. Those first few days, months, years when parents and family cooed at them, fought over who got to hold them next. Those early days when the world revolved around them, THEIR needs, and they learned what a precious treasure they are.
I was reminded of this verse from 1 Peter this summer. Actually, reminded DAILY at our church's VBX (what the cool kids call Vacation Bible School).
"But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation,
God's special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light." (2:9)
I want my kiddos to know that they are not only precious to me and Papa, to their teachers, coaches, Sunday school leaders, but they are precious to God. They are HIS special possession. They are not 'a child of trauma' but they are 'a child of God'.
Maybe that's why I am a horrible blogger. Maybe I'd do better if we all got together weekly at a coffee shop to talk and chat.
