Just Around the Corner

It was a big, tall, fun - but scary -  waterslide for a three year old boy. His siblings were flying down it over and over again having a blast and he wanted to join the fun, but after he climbed all the way to the top of that big staircase, he wouldn't get on the slide and started to cry. It was just too scary to do alone. "I'll catch you!" I promised. "No" he said firmly with fear in his eyes. I climbed the stairs and brought him down. He spent the next hour playing on the smaller slides in the shallower water. The next day, we returned and again the others were having so much fun. "Do you want to try it?" I asked again? "I'll catch you." "No" he said slowly thinking it over. "What if mom goes with you and you sit on my lap?" His eyes lit up, and he took my hand and we walked together to the stairs. At the top, he didn't hesitate for a second to sit on my lap and away we went, his shrieks of glee filling the whole place. "Again!" he cried at the bottom. Over and over again I made the trip taking him. Finally, I said, "I need a break, but do you want to go by yourself and I'll catch you at the bottom?" This time, the eyes didn't get fearful but lit up with confidence, as he shouted an excited OK! and ran off to climb the stairs. He checked on me at the top, to be sure I was still there at the bottom. I promised him again I was. And then I waited. And waited. And waited. And just when I was starting to wonder if he had lost his nerve, there he came around the corner, smile as big as I've ever seen it. Eyes glowing with pride, both so happy to see me at the bottom where I promised I would be, and so proud of himself for doing it alone. 

Three years ago, this tiny boy entered our lives when he came as a surprise bio-sibling to one of our kids and we were already pretty overwhelmed. We gave a small and very scary "yes" that you can read about if you click that link. I think the first day we could hardly believe we ever for a second thought of not saying yes, his tiny fingers and toes, his beautiful eyes, his perfect image of our very own God. Why would we even consider saying no to such a gift? The weeks and months went on, and he grew to know us as his family, and we loved him so. 

But there was rarely a month that went by that fear of not being able to protect him crept in. Times when we were told he would be leaving in 24 hours. Times when he would return from visits hungry and inconsolable. Times when we would again sit in the back of courtrooms while others discussed the future of the boy we were raising. Some of them hadn't even met him. They didn't even know his real name. 

This is why people say "No". The heartbreak of loss of someone you love as your own. The fear of what might happen to someone now that you have given them your heart. The impossible scenario that after 13 months someone might come pick up a little boy who is sure you are his mom, and leave him in an abusive home and you would be left to figure out just how to keep on breathing. That someone would say because you are not his mom on paper you should just let go. That someone who didn't know him and didn't know his birth parents, would pretend that they did, and that they knew what was best. That we would face the most broken we had ever seen the system, 

 I held my children as they cried every night missing the boy they had come to love as their baby brother. I watched his biological sister who had blossomed over the year with her brother living with her, fold her petals back in and close up, hurt and afraid to trust once again. I saw the strongest man I know completely broken. I watched my kids throw tantrums and get angry over the tiniest things. I saw them afraid that maybe they would be taken away too.  I watched us all crumble, because we missed him, but even more because we all knew he missed us. Because he was being hurt, he was taken from his family, and not even allowed to visit. We've known loss, but knowing your child is hurting and thinks they have been abandoned, that is crippling. Minutes felt like hours as I imagined and tried not to imagine what he might be going through or feeling.

I don't like telling this story, because I know its exactly the reason people say they "could never do foster care." But I have to tell it, because it's exactly why you should. 

After a lot of advocating, we finally got to visit him after almost 2 months. We saw him a few more times over the next few months. It was so hard to say goodbye. It was so hard to see how he too was withdrawing in, keeping his emotions hidden. It was hard to see how he was not developing as he should have been. The end of the visit was always the worst, he would cry out and reach for us and for the first time I would see him, he would let his guard down and look at me believing surely this time I would take him with, I wouldn't walk away again. I was destroyed every single time. I'd cry the whole way home. I'd pray. I didn't understand. That line from a song "New again" echoes over and over as in the lyrics Mary prays: "Father, how can this be your will, to have my son and your son killed?" And I would choke out the same prayer, Father, how can this be your will for my son, and your son? I couldn't see it yet.

This ride is scary. This big, tall, giant life that I can't see the end of until I get there, seems too terrifying sometimes that we won't ever get on. But what if He goes with you? When we know we are riding on our Fathers lap, its easier to jump on. Over many many losses of our biological children and of our foster children, I have deeply felt the presence of my Father carrying me through. Sometimes though it feels like we go alone. This time, for the most part I have felt very alone. Why does He withdraw when we need him most sometimes? Sometimes it's sin that makes us feel separated from God. Sometimes, it's so we can grow. I think the same reason I wanted my little man to go down the slide himself, the same reason you let go of your child's hand when they are learning to walk.  So they can learn what they are capable of. Of course we need God and we always want him to be close, and He always IS close. But sometimes when we don't feel Him, when we don't see Him, it's not that He has left us, but that He is letting us try it on our own.

It wasn't pretty, the last three years. It was quite ugly in our house and we saw some new sins we didn't realize were there. We saw again how much we tie up our hope in this world and not the next. We saw how little our faith really was. But we also saw, when the dust all cleared, we did have faith. We did keep breathing. We did keep going. We did find a way to trust that God would take care of him even if we couldn't see how. And just when we finally stopped holding on so tightly and surrendered it all....he came back.

He came for an overnight visit, the first one since he left 11 months before. It was so wonderful, and so hard, and I kept trying not to think about how I would say goodbye at the end of the weekend. And I never had to. A phone call from a social worker in his county said a new case was open and that led to him being allowed to stay with us. God took care of him, to align that social workers visit completely unknown to us on the ONLY weekend he was staying with us. Living in another state, we might not have even known that he had been placed in foster care again, but because he was with us when it happened he was able to just STAY. Another year whirlwind of ups and downs and fears and threats to move him out of state and court hearings postponed and timelines extended and so many fears again of not being able to protect him but in the end he was safe.  This month, three years later, we finally sat before a judge, behind masks and shields and glass barriers but souls raw to the world. Here is our little boy, who we have given our family for. Here is a little boy who has spent the majority of his life with us and knows us as his parents. Here is a boy who tore our hearts in a way we had never imagined. Here is a boy whose smile could brighten the room and whose hugs and kisses and beautiful brown eyes are the definition of love.  Here a judge again will decide and needs to hear if we have love for and a bond with this little boy and I simply say "yes" but I could say "Your Honor,  our love for him has almost destroyed us."

So why am I telling you all this? Why would this possibly be what you need to hear? Because I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Because even knowing how the way losing him would almost destroy our family, I would still say yes, and I hope you will too, because he is worth it. Because he needed our family to love, and our family needed him even more. Because you might miss out on the greatest joy, your greatest calling, just because you are scared. Because Jesus loves us so much He DID let it destroy Him, and He said we were worth it and that wasn't the end of the story. 

I don't know what hard things you are journeying through. I don't know if you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, if you feel you are sitting safe in the Fathers lap or if you feel very, very alone on a ride that doesn't seem to ever come to an end. Or maybe you are still standing at the top of those stairs trying to muster up the courage to jump on that slide. I do know and will never be able to forget the smile on my little boys face when he came around the corner of that slide and saw me standing there, waiting for him just like I promised him I would be. It's the same smile I want you to have when you come into the Kingdom, when you can say "I DID IT!" when you can see Him standing there, right where He promised He would be. 

Today a meditation from St. John Henry Newman said "Therefore I will trust him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us".  We can't always see what He's doing but I pray for the faith of this great saint who said "Let me be your blind instrument. I ask not to see. I ask not to know. I ask simply to be used."

If you have faith enough to get on the ride, to trust Jesus with your life and walk in his ways, then I can promise you He will be standing there when your ride is through. But you will enjoy the ride a whole lot more if you trust in that promise even when you can't see. He (heaven) is just around the corner. It has to be. You have to live like it is, or you will miss the point all together. The other ride is scary, there's no body waiting at the bottom to catch you and you can't swim. That ride would be fearful the whole entire way. Believe this Christmas. Not in Santa or family or whatever other nice things they are putting on Christmas cards these days. Believe in a God who loves you so much it destroyed him, and he would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Believe He wants you to get on that ride, and He promises He'll be there to catch you at the end, and I hope I'm there to see your smile when you come around the corner.