This life. It's full. It's got all the feelings.
If not having been chosen to live life this way, I am entirely convinced that I would be only simply existing and missing out.
This morning was court. As usual there were vague ideas of what might transpire, mostly nothing. One parent might show up, the other probably not. While in the waiting area, Probably Not presented themselves to the child without warning. Bewilderment and confusion took over the face - and heart, I'm guessing - of my unsuspecting little friend. What to make of this appearance after almost two years of absence; how to process the explanations and the stories we were hearing. Requests for visits and outings and parties and phone numbers. Too much, too late. Other parent also attended and is awaiting trial in criminal court, as well as awaiting the arrival of a sibling for my little - who knows nothing of that situation. Small sibling may be joining our family provided further details are obtained and the arrival is announced to the agency. Also, provided that parent is not incarcerated.
While waiting for the hearing, a chat was had with another case worker regarding our second little friend whose case will be heard next week. More news. Birth parent has Facebook-announced their brand new marriage - to someone with a criminal record. Hmmm. Married to someone who could prevent the reunification of this family. Not sure if my mind or heart twisted harder. Oh, and there's a chance that this birth mom could also be expecting.
This family had a visit today; our friend looks forward to this time with their family. At pick-up time today, birth mom was ready to end the visit early and told me about how out-of-control the kids were today. Oh dear mother, they are little and so very excited to see you and each other; they don't know how much longer this will last; they can't trust your promises that they'll be "home soon;" you are late to arrive and early to leave. Yes, out-of-control. Everything is out of their control.
In between visit drop off and pick up, we had time to get home to start dinner and check email - a message from a teacher informing us that our student has a 35% in class and is missing multiple assignments - one of which I specifically checked in with my student about just the night before. At that point, with full eye-contact and not a flinch, I was assured that that specific assignment had been completed and submitted. A bold-faced lie. Without flinching. No hesitation. From my child who just Monday convinced a school counselor that they are "being more honest and open with my mom." Tuesday was a missed bus and a call from the school nurse. Wednesday, a detention to serve. There's not a sigh big enough. How long will I have to watch my child face consequence upon consequence? When will they get tired of staring at the walls of our house while the rest of our same-aged kids enjoy freedom and friends?
Within the space of an hour (between visit drop-off and pick-up, starting dinner, checking email, and attempted conversations about honesty) both of our moved-out kids called. One called to share two bits of exciting news: a new job and a recent honor and recognition. One called to say they would no longer be sharing anything with me; that I should consider myself out of their life; that choices had to be made and I had apparently been the lesser preferred option.
Confusion. Frustration. Excitement. Desperation. Hopefulness. Amazement. Hurt. Sadness. Helplessness. Protectiveness. Joy. Weariness. Guilt. Wonderment. Compassion. Loss. Overwhelming love.
Tomorrow's opportunities are endless.
Thursday, December 6, 2018
Wednesday, November 28, 2018
Joy Comes
Some time ago someone commented to me that I seemed to always be weighed down and to lack joy. While I don't remember the exact circumstances surrounding that time, the comment was probably not without validity. The truth is that I often feel burdened; but I also often feel, no, I KNOW joy. Perhaps knowing joy does not particularly result in a bouncy step or a radiant countenance.
Today there is a burden.
Just before Thanksgiving the phone call came: a Childline referral regarding our family had been submitted. The Child Protective Services worker gave a sketchy description of the concerns and proceeded to ask questions. At the time of the call I was in the car with three of the kids, trying to remain calm and talk in code. The call concluded with the worker informing me that we could expect to hear from our local police department as they had received the referral as well.
Later that evening I was able to share the burden with a few close friends. There is joy in knowing that God has provided us with precious souls who walk where we walk. There is joy in knowing that we have a Friend who sticks closer than even those friends.
But still the burden remained. Waiting for the detective to call, wondering who instigated the report, sifting through recent conversations in which I may have given a wrong impression, casting suspicion onto our children - several of them are off the chart attention suckers (yes, suckers; having blown way past the level of mere attention seekers years ago.) Living under a cloud, knowing that once again our parenting choices and skills may be called into question.
Five days later, the day before Thanksgiving, the detective does his duty and interviews us - the parents. Fortunately, I guess, although it's sort of embarrassing to reveal, this detective knows our family quite well. He's been in our house a half dozen times for this same sort of meeting; also for the handful of runaway situations we've navigated. After asking us the required questions, he discloses the source of the report. Another burden. Our own child has had a hand in it; because of that child's lack of judgement we are now having to demonstrate to this officer that we have a safety plan in place to protect our children.
Gratefully, the detective is gentle with us and affirms our efforts in being vigilant parents. He leaves with an assurance that he will communicate with the CPS worker that he has no concerns. Those words bring feelings of joy; although, even throughout the questioning I have known joy - a confidence that we have done our best and that truth will prevail. Not a smiley-face joy, just a peace and calmness underneath the burden because we had not yet been cleared of the allegations.
More waiting as CPS is swamped and our case is not urgent. More living in uncertainty. More burdens as we attempt honest conversation with our child who we now know is involved in putting us here. Conversations are very one-sided and run up against much denial and some anger. It is a heavy thing to realize that my reputation, my family could be jeopardized by some careless choices and hurtful words - by my own child. Where to find joy in that?
Today was the day of the CPS interview. This morning felt burdensome as I waited for this afternoon, playing and replaying how I anticipated the meeting to unfold. Wondering how closely we would be scrutinized. Hoping that the two little extras in our home - little people who had been removed from unsafe environments and placed in our safe home - would be shielded from re-traumatization by realizing the reason for this new and different case worker in our home.
With joy - a lightness of heart and peace of soul - I am able to report that the meeting went as well as it possibly could. Short and sweet, with grown-up talk behind a closed door; the little ones had not a clue. The worker left with words of encouragement and thanks and even a "God bless you." The case will be closed. No further action is needed.
So then, the burden is gone, lifted, dissipated... No. My heart is heavy. There is much rebuilding and restoration to be done. Relationships - already tenuous - have been shattered. Trust is obliterated. It must appear to those looking in that I am weighed down, without joy.
This is the way we live. The way God has chosen to remind us of how desperately he longs for reconciliation, and how heavy his burden must be when we willingly walk away from his love. Joy comes from being obedient through the burdens.
Today there is a burden.
Just before Thanksgiving the phone call came: a Childline referral regarding our family had been submitted. The Child Protective Services worker gave a sketchy description of the concerns and proceeded to ask questions. At the time of the call I was in the car with three of the kids, trying to remain calm and talk in code. The call concluded with the worker informing me that we could expect to hear from our local police department as they had received the referral as well.
Later that evening I was able to share the burden with a few close friends. There is joy in knowing that God has provided us with precious souls who walk where we walk. There is joy in knowing that we have a Friend who sticks closer than even those friends.
But still the burden remained. Waiting for the detective to call, wondering who instigated the report, sifting through recent conversations in which I may have given a wrong impression, casting suspicion onto our children - several of them are off the chart attention suckers (yes, suckers; having blown way past the level of mere attention seekers years ago.) Living under a cloud, knowing that once again our parenting choices and skills may be called into question.
Five days later, the day before Thanksgiving, the detective does his duty and interviews us - the parents. Fortunately, I guess, although it's sort of embarrassing to reveal, this detective knows our family quite well. He's been in our house a half dozen times for this same sort of meeting; also for the handful of runaway situations we've navigated. After asking us the required questions, he discloses the source of the report. Another burden. Our own child has had a hand in it; because of that child's lack of judgement we are now having to demonstrate to this officer that we have a safety plan in place to protect our children.
Gratefully, the detective is gentle with us and affirms our efforts in being vigilant parents. He leaves with an assurance that he will communicate with the CPS worker that he has no concerns. Those words bring feelings of joy; although, even throughout the questioning I have known joy - a confidence that we have done our best and that truth will prevail. Not a smiley-face joy, just a peace and calmness underneath the burden because we had not yet been cleared of the allegations.
More waiting as CPS is swamped and our case is not urgent. More living in uncertainty. More burdens as we attempt honest conversation with our child who we now know is involved in putting us here. Conversations are very one-sided and run up against much denial and some anger. It is a heavy thing to realize that my reputation, my family could be jeopardized by some careless choices and hurtful words - by my own child. Where to find joy in that?
Today was the day of the CPS interview. This morning felt burdensome as I waited for this afternoon, playing and replaying how I anticipated the meeting to unfold. Wondering how closely we would be scrutinized. Hoping that the two little extras in our home - little people who had been removed from unsafe environments and placed in our safe home - would be shielded from re-traumatization by realizing the reason for this new and different case worker in our home.
With joy - a lightness of heart and peace of soul - I am able to report that the meeting went as well as it possibly could. Short and sweet, with grown-up talk behind a closed door; the little ones had not a clue. The worker left with words of encouragement and thanks and even a "God bless you." The case will be closed. No further action is needed.
So then, the burden is gone, lifted, dissipated... No. My heart is heavy. There is much rebuilding and restoration to be done. Relationships - already tenuous - have been shattered. Trust is obliterated. It must appear to those looking in that I am weighed down, without joy.
This is the way we live. The way God has chosen to remind us of how desperately he longs for reconciliation, and how heavy his burden must be when we willingly walk away from his love. Joy comes from being obedient through the burdens.
Tuesday, October 23, 2018
Learning A Lesson
Lately I have had some conversations with some of our kids about my job as a parent, and how I am doing at doing my job. At the top of the list of job requirements is safety; I point out that as foster parents we have been given the high privilege of keeping other peoples' children safe. So it frustrates me when it appears that I am failing at protecting any of our kids.
What makes it even harder is when there is a need to protect my child from their own choices. The more they grow in independence and knowledge and wisdom, the harder my job gets.
Today one of the kids is serving a suspension. While in school, this child of mine was found to have contraband on their person. After initially being questioned by school security and then a principal, my student was assigned the consequence for this choice. Those are the undisputed facts.
Here are the rest of the facts.
My kid was not the owner of the contraband, but had gone into the bathroom with a group of friends. Another kid brought out the item which the group immediately realized was prohibited in school. The owner of the item is a long-time friend of my child and is a student who is already serving severe consequences for prior poor choices. In what seems like a split-second decision, my child put the item into their pocket so that when a security guard arrived on the scene, it was my child who had the prohibited item on their person.
The decision wasn't haphazard or spontaneous; my child knew that if the friend, the owner, were to be caught with the item that student would probably face expulsion. When confronted by the security guard, my child said the item was theirs. When questioned further by the principal, my child relented and reported that the item belonged to a friend, but refused to give the name of that friend. According to the principal, my child was extremely respectful in stating why they were not willing to provide the name of the owner. The school had no choice but to serve my child with the consequence spelled out in the school manual of discipline. My child's response to the principal and to me was, "I understand, and I'll take the consequence."
My child sacrificed - their unsullied behavior record; perhaps their standing with that group of friends for being "stupid" enough to have this on their record; possibly their reputation with teachers as a respectful and responsible student; potentially the loss of a spot on athletic teams.
My first statement to my child that day was, "I'm not angry with you, but I also don't agree with your decision." I wish I could take that back.
That came from a place of wanting to protect, wanting to undo or re-do what seemed to me to be a snap judgment; not well thought-out with regard for the future - you know, as kids sometimes rush into situations first and think about the consequences later.
My kid saw past the situation in a way that it took me a day or two to see. They saw a friend in need of more than just a spontaneous save or freedom from a school expulsion. They saw a person in need of hope.
That my child has been a friend to the student who caused this situation, speaks to their desire to respect and treat everyone with care. That my child did not just walk out of the bathroom that day, but chose to stay with his friend demonstrates their sense of loyalty. That my child is unbegrudgingly serving a suspension today for a 'crime' he didn't commit, is an amazing example of forgiveness.
Added to the parent job description is: always be ready to learn a lesson from your children. Thanks, kids! And to this kid - I'll be watching...
What makes it even harder is when there is a need to protect my child from their own choices. The more they grow in independence and knowledge and wisdom, the harder my job gets.
Today one of the kids is serving a suspension. While in school, this child of mine was found to have contraband on their person. After initially being questioned by school security and then a principal, my student was assigned the consequence for this choice. Those are the undisputed facts.
Here are the rest of the facts.
My kid was not the owner of the contraband, but had gone into the bathroom with a group of friends. Another kid brought out the item which the group immediately realized was prohibited in school. The owner of the item is a long-time friend of my child and is a student who is already serving severe consequences for prior poor choices. In what seems like a split-second decision, my child put the item into their pocket so that when a security guard arrived on the scene, it was my child who had the prohibited item on their person.
The decision wasn't haphazard or spontaneous; my child knew that if the friend, the owner, were to be caught with the item that student would probably face expulsion. When confronted by the security guard, my child said the item was theirs. When questioned further by the principal, my child relented and reported that the item belonged to a friend, but refused to give the name of that friend. According to the principal, my child was extremely respectful in stating why they were not willing to provide the name of the owner. The school had no choice but to serve my child with the consequence spelled out in the school manual of discipline. My child's response to the principal and to me was, "I understand, and I'll take the consequence."
My child sacrificed - their unsullied behavior record; perhaps their standing with that group of friends for being "stupid" enough to have this on their record; possibly their reputation with teachers as a respectful and responsible student; potentially the loss of a spot on athletic teams.
My first statement to my child that day was, "I'm not angry with you, but I also don't agree with your decision." I wish I could take that back.
That came from a place of wanting to protect, wanting to undo or re-do what seemed to me to be a snap judgment; not well thought-out with regard for the future - you know, as kids sometimes rush into situations first and think about the consequences later.
My kid saw past the situation in a way that it took me a day or two to see. They saw a friend in need of more than just a spontaneous save or freedom from a school expulsion. They saw a person in need of hope.
That my child has been a friend to the student who caused this situation, speaks to their desire to respect and treat everyone with care. That my child did not just walk out of the bathroom that day, but chose to stay with his friend demonstrates their sense of loyalty. That my child is unbegrudgingly serving a suspension today for a 'crime' he didn't commit, is an amazing example of forgiveness.
Added to the parent job description is: always be ready to learn a lesson from your children. Thanks, kids! And to this kid - I'll be watching...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)