Tag: large families

Plug for Foster Care

Foster Care is kind of in a crisis right now. They need families to sign up to be foster parents. It’s a constant need. I see ads and articles talking about this pressing need all the time, but I have been hesitant to take up the call and start advocating and pressing other people to consider being a foster family. Mostly because we have been on this journey since December 2019, and it’s been hard. And I’m in a place where I can very clearly tell you how hard this is on a day-to-day basis, and do I really want to be responsible for someone else signing up for foster care and then watching them be weighed down by this same burden? 

I kind of feel the same way about having large families. I love our large family. I would not go back in time and do anything differently. But, it’s been hard. It’s not an easy path. So, I don’t go around telling everyone else that they should also have a large family. 

But having a large family is what has made me who I am. Refining by fire. And being a foster mom has been a whole other level of refinement. 

I didn’t pursue fostering. I had a desire to be a foster parent, but the size of our family disqualified us to be official state foster parents. The prayer in my heart was kind of, Ok God, I have a heart for these kids, but there is nothing I can do. If you want me to foster, you will have to fling open the doors. So he did. We ended up with what is technically termed as a kinship foster placement, even though we were just good friends of the kids, not formally related. 

I think about concerns I’ve had about fostering. The main one is, what about my own children? I don’t want to harm them in any way! After all, kids who enter the foster care system are usually coming with some sizable baggage that affects their behavior and their ability to get along with others. 

In the first months that we welcomed a sibling group into our home, we had a lot of rough spots. Very rough spots. During that time many of my children came to me in private to complain and ask why on earth these kids were in our home. I was very straight forward with my answer. James 1:27 (NIV) says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” I am a Christian. God wants me to take care of the orphans, and these kids might as well be orphans since the State will not allow them to live with their parents. 

They need help. 

We are able to give help. 

We help. 

This is not to say that I purposefully put my children in danger just because I felt like I should help foster kids. In the end, two of the kids had to be moved to a higher level of care than I was able to give. But we were able to eventually have the youngest sibling on a more permanent basis and she is still with us. And while those two kids didn’t stay with us, I do know that I offered them love and safety during the time they were with us and helped them on their journey. 

I think in the end, it’s always a heart issue. What is your heart towards the orphans and widows of this world? What is your posture when it comes to obeying James 1:27? It’s been my experience that if you are willing to obey, and ask God to give you HIS heart for the needy, God will fling open doors so you can help. Whether it be to actually have children in your home, to help other families who are fostering (they need all the support they can get!) or to find some other way to help, if you are willing, there is always something you can do. 

This is my plug for foster care. These kids are God’s creation. They are beautiful children with a lifetime of possibilities ahead of them. 

They need help. 

We can help. 

Let’s help. 

Adventures with Friends

We just spent a long weekend with our friends down on the coast of South Carolina. We’re driving back to Tennessee now, car full of kids, favorite music playing, kids counting down the minutes before we can stop at McDonalds for lunch and get a Happy Meal. We’ve got the three youngest sitting right behind our seats, my husband is driving with earplugs in because the high shrill voices of small children wears him down. 

We had a wonderful time playing, kayaking, visiting the beach. As we were talking with our friends, we realized that we have been friends for seventeen years. That seems unbelievable. We met when we were all newlyweds with babies. We were remembering the first camping trip we did together. I was very pregnant, it rained, we set up a canopy and cooked under it while we threw all our kids into our van which happened to have a tv in it. 

Over the years we have done life together, in a very real way. Together we’ve figured out parenting challenges, marriage challenges, career challenges. We’ve encouraged each other in our spiritual walks. We’ve babysat. We’ve crashed at each other’s houses. We’ve taught each other our favorite hobbies. 

Our friends have moved around while we’ve stayed put, but we still manage to see each other a couple times a year.

And the old quote comes to mind,

 “Make new friends, but keep the old; Those are silver, these are gold.” Joseph Parry

Yesterday our friends took all the little kids to a playground while my husband and I took some of the older kids on a bike ride. It wasn’t until later that I realized that I had given my friends zero instructions on how to take care of my children and I had given my kids zero instructions on listening and obeying. Because it wasn’t necessary. I already know they can handle my kids. My kids already know these adults and respect their rules. These are people I don’t have to give backstory to. These are people that I can not call for months, and then send a random text about a random topic and I know it won’t be a problem. 

Gold. 

Friendships are funny things. They ebb and flow. They aren’t something we have a lot of control over. Sure, we can choose to be the best friend possible, but it has to be reciprocated. Sometimes it is, and it’s wonderful, sometimes we just change and grow apart. Sometimes we reconnect later, when our lives and interests intersect again, and sometimes we just remain a fond memory from the past. Whatever the case, long-term friends are rare and precious things and I am very thankful for them. 

I would post some pictures of our trip, but I don’t have any because I was too busy having fun. All I have are a couple pictures of kids squinting into the sun. Ah well. My son asked me today if I had taken a “mind picture” of something, so I could remember it for later. So, yes. I’ve got a whole album of Mind Pictures and another chapter added to our Adventures With Friends. 

Trustworthy

To say that I’ve had a hard week would kind of be like saying the ocean has a lot of water. Perhaps just a little bit of an understatement. 

I was thinking about it last night, and I was thinking, none of these things stressing me out are actually my problems. This is just me, trying to help other people through their problems. Their junk. Not mine. But then I had this niggling thought of, is that really true? Because actually, when we help other people deal with their junk, it inevitably stirs up some of our own. 

I am realizing that this week, I’ve had some serious doubts and worries about the Goodness of God and being able to trust him. I think, when I say that I “trust” God, what I’m actually saying is, “I’m really confident that God is going to work out everything the way that I want it.” And this week I’ve had to face the stark fear that Maybe, God is not going to work things out the way I want in my loved ones’ lives. Maybe the happy ending that I’ve been praying for, isn’t going to actually happen. Maybe God isn’t going to answer my prayer and keep all harm far, far away. 

That has been hard for me to accept. Again, an understatement. 

I feel helpless. And the power of prayer doesn’t feel as strong when there are no guarantees that we will get the answer we want. 

Yesterday I had to walk away from someone I loved, leaving their problems in someone else’s hands. I started walking back to my car. Tears running down my cheeks. I sat in my car and sobbed for a minute. My brain numb. And I felt the Holy Spirit whisper into my soul the word, Trustworthy. 

And as I sit and think about that word, I realize that I have been guilty of creating God in my own image. I know how I want things to work out, I know how I want God to move in these situations, and so I create a God in my mind that does everything that I want him to do. And then, when crisis comes, it feels like God is not being God. Except that he is being God. Just not my little image of him that I’ve created. He is being God: Omnipotent, Sovereign. And, as he reminded me yesterday, Trustworthy. 

I think what the word Trustworthy means is, God is who he says He is. He can do what he says He can do. (To quote an old Beth Moore Bible Study). My knowledge of who He is and what He can do comes from the Bible, not from my imagination. And when my ideas get shaken up, I’ve got to return to that firm foundation. 

And so I find myself on new ground. Perhaps it’s Holy ground. It feels really unstable, but I think that’s just because my legs are weak, not because the ground is shaky. It’s a place of saying, Your will be done, not mine. I’m sacrificing my preconceived ideas, and instead am going to walk into the unknown, clinging to the truth that you are good. Your love is wider and deeper than mine. You are Trustworthy. 

I am Not your Enemy

I had to take my daughter to a doctor’s appointment this morning. Last year she broke her arm and had a metal rod put in her bone. Now that the bone is healed, we have to have another surgery to remove the rod. She does not want to have another surgery. She did not want to miss some of school this morning as they were doing something fun in class. She was not happy. When we got to the waiting room, she chose a seat just far enough away from me to announce how unhappy she was with me. And I sat there watching her angry face and I thought, I am not your enemy! I am doing this for you! 

This week I had to take my six year old who is homeschooling this year, to the public school four different times so he could do some testing. We are trying to get a good evaluation so we can get him placed in the right class next school year. In order for them to get all their data, they needed him to do some writing samples. He hates writing. With a passion. He is capable of writing. He writes for me every day in school. And every day it’s a fight. So, when they asked him to write for the testing, he dug in his heels, mad at me, mad at the testing. I had to talk to him. Listen, this is in order to help you so you can be placed in the right class next year so you won’t be bored in school. I am not your enemy. I am trying to help you. 

I’ve had a couple other situations this week where I have come across as public enemy number one because I’m making the hard choices that aren’t popular, but are for the best. It’s not fun. I am a peacemaker, and a people pleaser. I just want everyone to like me and be happy. That’s not too much to ask, is it? 

I was grumbling about it to God this morning. Here I am, just trying to help people, and everyone is mad at me. I am not the enemy! 

And he kind of whispered back to me, I am not your enemy either. 

Ah. 

Yes. 

I’ve been kind of mad this week. Why haven’t you intervened in this situation God? Why haven’t you healed? Why haven’t you stepped in and shown up big? 

And I am reminded that the same trust and faith that I require of my children, is being required of me. My kids can’t see the big picture in the same way I, as an adult, can. And I can’t see the big picture in the same way God does. And so I have to just trust. And in the same way that I can point out to my kids all the ways that I love them, to reassure them that my actions are in their best interest, I can remind myself of all the ways God has shown his love to me, and be reassured myself. 

Not the enemy. 

Delight Yourself in the Lord

Delight yourself in the Lord. 

Last night in our church’s prayer meeting, this was the admonition of our pastor. 

I’ve been pondering on this since yesterday. How do I delight myself in the Lord?  How do I take pleasure in him? What does this look like in everyday living?

This past week I have been pretty numb. Trauma does that to me. I just kind of shut down for a while. My emotions get overloaded and they just turn off. For some reason, yesterday was my hardest day. I was fighting depression and hopelessness and it was a major feat to just put one foot in front of the other. Last night’s online prayer meeting was a breath of life that I needed. (By the way, this is just another example of why we need to be plugged into the body of Christ.)

This morning I woke up early. It is my husband’s birthday and I wanted to make him a special breakfast. I was up and so I was able to pause for a moment, look out the window, and see the beginning of a soft orange and purple sunrise. At the same time, I also noticed some of our bushes had flowered pink and white in our yard. Later on in the morning, I went outside on our deck and just sat in the sunshine. My little boys joined me and while I closed my eyes, soaking in the warmth, they chattered on about little boy things. Animals they could see in our yard. What if our cat was actually a WILD cat? What if our white cat was actually an ARCTIC FOX! I said uh huh, and yeah, in all the appropriate places, smiling at their antics, taking in the light. This evening we went for a walk after supper, and I noticed how the setting sunlight lingered on the green tree on the corner. The breeze rustled through the branches, the leaves shook and twisted, reflecting light as if they were glass pendants hanging from a chandelier. And through all of this there was a murmur in my head. Thank you Lord. This is beautiful. I love your creation. 

And I felt delight. 

Today was also a day for focusing on my children. Trying to give them some concentrated attention. We made trips to the library, read books out loud. Sat and cuddled on the couch. I made an effort to reach out whenever I could, tussle their hair, give a quick hug, listen with my eyes on their face. And through all of this there was a murmur in my head. Thank you Lord for these children. They are so beautiful. I am so blessed to be their mother. 

And I felt delight. 

Today I wrestled through some thoughts and ideas that have been wandering around my head. What is my response when my children’s schools go through such turmoil? And I felt peace. Maybe a change will be needed in the future, but for now, I feel that we proceed on the path that we are on. Walking in faith that all things work for good to them who love God. Trusting that if or when a change is needed in how we do school, God will make it clear. And there was a release of tension and a murmuring in my head. Thank you Lord. Thank you for your peace. 

And I felt delight. 

And you know, I almost missed it. Because all these moments were tangled up with messy life. Accidents, temper tantrums, impatience. Chores not done right. Kids fighting. It was not a day of meditation and calm. It was a normal day with kids and a large crazy house. But, tucked all throughout the day was beauty and thankfulness and peace. And I feel a murmur in my head saying Thank you Lord for this day. Thank you for your presence. Thank you for the meaning you infuse in my life. Lord you are Good. 

And I feel delight. 

More Tragedy

This past Monday our community, school, family walked through yet another tragedy in a year that has been full of them. My daughters’ highschool had an “officer involved shooting” in the school. The Tennessee Bureau of Investigations wanted to make it clear that this was not a “school shooting” where someone has brought a gun to the school with the intent of hurting people at the school, but was rather the result of a police officer engaging a student who was suspected of having a gun, and gunfire was exchanged. A police officer was injured, but is recovering, and the student is dead. 

For our family, we had an entire hour, from the moment the highschool was put in lockdown at the end of the school day, until we managed to get everyone home, that we had no idea what was going on. All we knew was that there was danger, a really big situation, and my daughter was in the building where all this danger was happening. 

The school district did not communicate with the parents during the whole thing which made the fear worse. Monday night I wrote the school district, voicing my complaints about the lack of communication with parents, and they personally called me the next day to apologize and say that this was an area they were going to improve in. 

My elementary school kids were also put in lockdown, (the school is relatively close to the high school) moments before they were to be dismissed. The teachers at the elementary school did not know what was happening, just that they were in a hard lockdown. They presumed there was imminent danger, and their fear and stress leaked over to the kids they were watching. My 1st and 2nd grader were crying when they finally were released to come get in my car. They told me later that they thought they were about to be shot by a bad guy. 

After I finally had all my elementary kids in my car, we then had to maneuver through police barricades until we finally found an access point where we could get to my daughter who was waiting at the high school for me. And during all of this there was a police helicopter swooping overhead making us all feel that we were in a war zone. 

When we got home I wouldn’t let the kids play outside because the helicopter was still present, making circles over our house (we live close to the highschool) and I had no idea if the helicopter was actively looking for someone in our neighborhood. So the kids huddled inside, looking out the windows, waiting for the danger to pass. And I sat, scanning all the social media and news sites I could find, trying to get information on what was happening. 

My husband came home early and I walked into his embrace and as he held me, I felt everything going black in my head, and was sure, for a moment, that I was going to faint. Rumors were flying and we heard that our principal, a man I admire, might have been shot. Was the office staff all wounded? How many people were dead? At one point in time I just hid in my kitchen and cried. Trying to avoid the kids, not wanting to increase their stress by having a complete breakdown myself. 

It took quite a while for all the details to come out. And now, On Wednesday, we still have not heard the name of the student who has died. And my daughter is supposedly supposed to return to school tomorrow, but I have a million questions, and none of them have been answered yet. 

Yesterday I gathered up all the kids, emailed all the elementary teachers telling them my kids would not be in school, and we left town and spent the day with my parents. 

Yesterday I would say that my stress level was at ninety-five out of a hundred. This morning I think I’ve got it down to maybe a forty? 

Yesterday morning I was feeling pretty horrible. Angry, agitated. I sat down and found myself rocking back and forth. Good grief. I was also feeling a lot of condemnation. Look at you! Where is your faith and your peace? And I had to stop and speak some truth to myself. You have just gone through a very stressful situation and your body and emotions are responding to that. You have to give yourself permission to recover from this. And, God is still good, and still in control, so we are going to cling to that and give ourselves some time to decompress and recover. 

So, Wednesday morning, I’m doing better than yesterday, but still feeling a bit shell-shocked. 

I haven’t even started processing the situation at our school, but I feel like I at least got the rocking boat of our family back onto calmer waters. 

Kite Flying

Last Sunday, Easter, we took the kids to the park in the afternoon, and for a special treat, we got all the little kids a plastic kite. The kind they sell cheap at Walmart. We spent the afternoon trying to help six kids get a kite going at the same time, and chaos erupted. I suddenly remembered why we hadn’t flown kites in a long time. Group kite flying is not very fun. Only one child successfully got her kite up and kept it up. Everyone else was frustrated. 

This Sunday, a week later, I decided to return to the park and try this kite thing again. I only took a couple kids with me this time and we only tried to get one kite up in the air at a time. It was also very windy, so I was sure that we would have much better luck. 

Nope. 

I have come to the conclusion that our kites are too cheap. We just don’t have the right kind of kites. This theory was brought home when a guy appeared on the scene later with his two kids. They brought out a beautiful, obviously well-made, professional grade kite. And it flew so high. So beautifully! The kids and I admired from a distance. 

Of course, it also takes some skill. The dad flying the kite passed the string to one of his children and after a while it crashed to the ground. Which makes me think that what our family needs is just one, really nice kite. The older kids can take turns using it and the little kids can watch. 

Quick subject change. I’ve been thinking about control. Lack of control. The need for control. And how that runs contrary to being a Christian. Even to just being human. There is so little that we have control over. We can’t control the weather or any natural disasters that might pop up. We can’t control the spread of viruses. We can’t control cancer. We have very limited control of the actions of people around us. 

Me trying to control my life kind of reminds me of standing out in a field with a cheap kite that has serious design issues, a tangled string that won’t come off the reel in a timely manner, wind that gusts and swirls haphazardly, and the end product is my kite wrapped up in a nearby tree branch.

The Christian walk requires trust and faith, the opposite of control. I have to somehow believe that, first, God loves me. His end goal for me is for me to be with him in Paradise. This time here on earth is a time of refining and growth. Second, God knows what he is doing. The things that happen here are not a surprise to him nor do they hinder God’s will from happening. Third, I am not going to understand everything during this lifetime. Bad things are going to happen that knock me down. I’m not going to be happy with everything that comes my way. Maybe, I’ll be able to look back and see how everything worked out for good, and maybe I will never see how any good came out of it. But, the fourth, and last point is God is good and I can trust him. 

And when I trust him, it’s kind of like handing control of the kite string over to a master. Someone who knows what they are doing. Someone who has the ability to transform my broken kite into a beautiful masterpiece. And that’s the life I want. Me in control is not a pretty thing. Me trusting God makes my life a beautiful thing to see.

A Moment of Clarity

Today my six year old son decided to do my workout with me. The workout was lots of variations on a plank, with some jump rope thrown in. He was enthusiastic and could do all the exercises a lot better than me. I didn’t have a jump rope for him, but he grabbed a pair of pants from the clean laundry pile and said that was his jump rope. At one point in time, he gasped out that he was tired. He stopped while I continued. For a moment I felt some pride, Yes! I outlasted the six year old! But, then, while he was standing there “resting” he started running in place. Cause he was bored. I think he was just tired of that one exercise we were doing. When we were done, he looked at me, eyes twinkling, and confided, boy, that was hard work! And then he ran off to play…while I melted on the floor exhausted. 

This morning he was up early. He was sitting on the couch reading a book. When he finished he started chuckling to himself. The book, about a Momma pig chasing down her kids who are hiding because they don’t want to go to school (yes, a weird book we picked up somewhere) ended with Mom Plum victorious. I heard him muttering to himself. Mom Plum! She caught them all! And his earnestness pulls my heartstrings. 

He runs upstairs and comes down with a big pile of books from the bookshelf. He sets them next to me on the couch. We can read these when Noah comes downstairs! You can read all of them, or some of them. Whatever you want Mom! Then he sits next to me, leans on my arm. And today, I just have one of those, “Oh yeah!” moments, where I remember again just how amazing this particular child is. My focus is honed in and I see him in all his curiosity and sweetness and intelligence. And my heart feels full. I squeeze him closer and say I love you sweetie! He looks up at me with a grin, I love you to Mama! 

It’s so easy to get jaded to the people around us. We’re used to them. They become part of the scenery. We live in autopilot, talking without giving much thought to who we are talking to. I consider it a God moment, when I suddenly open my eyes and see this person in front of me. Appreciate how special they are. Take a moment to be thankful for their presence in my life. For a moment my vision goes from dull black and white to full on technicolor and once again, I see the treasure my son is. 

Motherhood Brings out the Worst in Me

It’s been a day.  

I was in the middle of a confrontation with a melting-down child. I was seconds from physically removing said child and taking them to a quiet location where they could get calm without an audience…and then another child decided to come and stand right between us and start playing her recorder as loud as she could. And for a moment I felt frozen in time as I watched sheer ridiculousness unfold before my eyes. Several choice comments jumped in my mind and I may have muttered some of them at a slightly audible level. 

A couple hours later I asked the kids to clean their zones. The child of Recorder Fame pitched a fit and caterwauled the entire time she was cleaning. She sounded like a dying cat…I just might have mentioned that to her. 

Another, younger child, escaped the house without doing their cleaning. I chased them down, and when they responded that their zone WAS clean, I proceeded to point out, in sarcastic detail, the ten things that they had failed to clean. 

Earlier in the day, the kindergartner would not do his reading. So, I made him get in the car with me when I went to pick up kids from public school, and he had to sit there for the thirty minutes wait and read his book out loud so I could hear him. And I might have done a this-is-your-own-fault, when he complained about being bored. 

This morning, I had this random thought…I know God loves me, but does he Like me? 

At the end of days like today, I kind of feel like a not-so-nice person. I’ve yelled, been sarcastic, made a lot of kids unhappy with my expectations of them. I am not currently the hero of the hour. I am about to sit down to supper where I will be the bad guy who makes everyone eat vegetables. And then, I’m going to make kids do homework. And I’m not going to let them watch tv tonight. And then, they will all have to go to bed at bedtime…and brush their teeth. I will, in fact, win no popularity points tonight as I parent my brood. Though they still will all want me to hug and kiss them goodnight.

Being a mom sometimes just feels like it’s me at my worst. 

The mean me. 

The strict me. 

It’s hard to feel like a lovable, nice, person when you’ve just physically carried a screaming seven year old up the stairs to their room because they need to be in a quiet place to calm down. It’s hard to feel like a nice person when you’re dishing out the table chores after the meal and no one wants to be the one who has to sweep the floor, but you assign it anyway, cause you don’t want to sweep either. 

Maybe being a mom is so hard because it really brings out the worst in us. Our kids strip away all our pretensions of being sweet and patient, and instead show the real us. Someone who has some temper problems. Someone whose patience has real limitations. Someone who makes mistakes often. Someone who struggles to put others first. 

As I think about this, maybe God especially likes me in the role of mother. It keeps me honest and humble. No fake Esther pretending to be pure and holy. Instead it’s me: dirty, weary, spending half the day asking for forgiveness as I try again to be patient. Try again to see things from the child’s point of view and not just my own. Try again to not be cutting with my words. Try again to have grace. 

Me at my worst, is actually just me at my most real. And being real is what God wants from us. So, I guess I’m actually in a pretty good place. 

Yay for New Shoes!

Well, today I did a thing. I took eight children out to buy brand new shoes, not at Walmart. (The ninth child was sleeping in and wouldn’t budge.) In the past we have always bought little kids shoes either at a thrift store or Walmart. Teenagers get more expensive shoes because their shoes have a longer chance of fitting them for extended periods of time, and Walmart shoes just don’t last past two months. 

I was looking for something sturdy and all-purpose. Active sandal-type shoes for spring and summer. I am out of practice shopping. We went to four stores before I found what I was looking for. (Yay GB shoes!) We also stopped after the third store and I ran into a Walmart and bought food for lunch that we could eat in the car. And then we had to drop two of the boys off for an outing with friends, and then finally to the fourth store where I had to corral a bunch of hyper kids who all wanted to pick their shoes immediately. 

Now I still have to go pick up the two boys from their outing and take them to the shoe store as well, hopefully dragging the previously-sleeping teen with me. 

I’m happy though. Usually, spring comes and I start skimming the household budget, taking one or two kids at a time to get them shoes/new clothes, and then the next week take another two etc, etc. It’s a long drawn out process. 

But, tis the season for stimulus checks. 

As we’ve discussed what we are going to do with our stimulus money, it came home to me that we have a very long wish list of things we could spend money on. Very long. Longer than our stimulus money in fact. We finally decided to be responsible and set the wish list aside and finish paying off the last of our debt. But, there was enough left over to do a handful of things, including buying brand new shoes for kids. Woohoo. 

And just an aside. Taking a bunch of kids shoe shopping, all at the same time, is not for the faint-hearted. By the time we hit the fourth store, I was girding my loins, preparing for battle, adjusting my armor, etc… My main strategy is move fast. No dilly-dallying. Everyone sit here, on this bench. Ok, you want this shoe or that one? (Never give many choices.) Ok, which color do you want? Alright, stand on this mat, let’s see what size you are. Here, try this on, walk around…Fit? Ok. Perfect. Next child. We might have set a record for fastest in and out shoppers ever. 

Kids are happy. 

I’m happy. 

Yay for new shoes!