Thursday, August 26, 2010

A Blind Stroll

These are my least favorite days of foster care.

Little One is old enough and verbal enough to express himself.

That's a great thing.

But it's a horrible thing.

Now is the season of foster care, that here in our house, we call the fog.

The case is seeming up and down, drama around every corner and forever going in one direction then taking an unexpected turn in another. These are the days where my grace and patience with everyone involved wears thin. These are the days that getting him ready and sending him on a visit just plain breaks something in my core. There is something about the look on his face, the look in his eyes when I hand him over to the visit workers and they take him off to the car. I've stopped looking out the window as they get going because I can't stand to see him looking back through the window at me. These are the days that the hours and days after a visit are filled with his rages. A sweet joyful little person becomes a little ball of hate, hitting and biting and breaking and kicking. Neither one of us sleeps at night.

But I signed up for this.

I said yes when God asked.

I hate the fog. It's hard. It's walking blind by faith. I don't like that.


stephseef said...

From Psalm 73:

21 When my heart was grieved
and my spirit embittered,

22 I was senseless and ignorant;
I was a brute beast before you.

23 Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by my right hand.

24 You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.

25 Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

26 My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.

27 Those who are far from you will perish;
you destroy all who are unfaithful to you.

28 But as for me, it is good to be near God.
I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge;
I will tell of all your deeds.

---- Stay near to God, the Sovereign Lord. He will be your refuge, He can take your anger, and He can handle Little One's rages even on the nights when you cannot.

When we were transitioning to forever-care with our oldest, we reached a point in respite care that our social worker called 'the fog' - when the lines of affection began to be blurred for him - which is mom? which is dad? Where's home? that's when they knew it was time for him to come full time with us. I know your scenario is different. Totally. But the stability that you are providing will serve him in life more than you know, no matter the outcome. No matter what happens next, some part of him will remember that he was loved in this way. And that matters.

Praying for you today.

Jen said...

Thanks Steph. Only one who walks in this "gets" it. Thanks.