Frustration: The Real Life of a Foster Parent

Frustrated….Again!

Having just returned from, perhaps, my 11^th court appearance regarding Emma and her siblings, who have been wards of the state for over two years, I feel like I just got punched in the gut…again!  I was chewing on the drive home about what it is that has been so frustrating, and I discovered that the frustrations that I have felt as a foster mother has existed at a level that I had never before experienced.  It is frustration x 100!  I began pondering what it is that has been so frustrating for me, and there are many ideas that came to mind. 

First, it is so frustrating to reach out and attempt to do something that is going to make a difference in the life of children, only for others…social work agency, social workers, supervisors, director, biological parent, to look at you and treat you as if you are their enemy.  To be treated with such anger, animosity, rudeness, and confrontation is unbelievably frustrating. 

It is also frustrating to open our home and our family and have people come in who trounce on our boundaries, disrespect us, and criticize how I do black hair, how I buy the wrong diapers, how I have the baby’s room set up, how I live my life, how I don’t do this right and I don’t do that.  It is a complete intrusion!  This entire experience has been unbelievably intrusive!

It is also frustrating to advocate for a child where there existed so many unwritten rules and codes of which I was to abide.  I wasn’t supposed to advocate for a child.  I was supposed to know my place and be a paid babysitter, who wouldn’t have an opinion, certainly no judgment, and jump when they told me to.  Those who know me will understand that I cannot function in this manner.  I did the opposite, and I challenged many attitudes, lies I caught people in, and addressed issues that were not right.

It is also frustrating at a level that I cannot fully articulate to care for a special needs child, who needs five therapy services per week, who has gone to countless specialists, had countless tests, and they cannot heal her!  It cannot change the brain damage that she has.  It cannot make her suddenly start chewing food, or hold her own bottle, or crawl, speak, or move.  It cannot help her.  I have done all that I can in this natural realm, yet I, nor anyone else, can make her better. 

It is also painful and frustrating to see how Emma is judged simply because of the color of her skin.  I have seen the looks of disapproval, the smiles that stop when they look at her, the judgments, and it makes me very frustrated.

It is frustrating to hear all of the people tell me what a good job I (we) have done with her, and how blessed she is to have us.  I was told by her attorney today after court, as she had tears in her eyes, how much she admired all of the care we have given to her.  I contemplated this on the way home, and I wonder why she and others say these things.  What they cannot understand is that we feel like utter failures!  We have failed this child in innumerable ways.  She has been failed beginning with her conception.  Her parents failed her, her mother failed her as she carried her, DCFS failed her, her attorneys, the courts have failed her, the doctors, the specialists, her community, her church, her world.  We have all failed her.  We cannot change the circumstance of her life, those she was born into, and those of which she continues to live.   She is like every child who is born, she has a right to a life filled with love, health, freedom, and belonging.  None of us can change the damage that has been done. 

I am also deeply frustrated by the selfishness of people.  I am amazed at the depths of selfishness that we, as human beings, are capable of.  It is difficult for me to wrap my mind around how a child becomes a possession.  Circulating around all of this is a dangerous and debilitating toxin called entitlement.  Entitlement may have many connotations, and it is not race related, but rather, it is selfish related.  It is a mindset that individuals have that tells them that they can get what they want when they want it, and they will go to any length to get it.  They believe that they deserve things.   This mentality keeps people from fulfilling their potential, because they have been taught that they don’t have to work for anything, that someone is going to bail them out when/if they come to the end of their rope.  In turn, they get accustomed to keeping their hand out, and this becomes a vicious cycle.  With this also comes an inability to deal with the consequences that accompany their behavior. The other side of this is to give those who need a hand up, which they can then use to better themselves and their world.  I realize that sometimes, people need help, and we are to help those in need.  There are so many layers to this, so I will just leave it at this.

As I went to court today, I went in with an expectation, which I don’t know why I still have them, because each time I have gone to court, nothing has ever gone according to the expectations that I had.   I have learned that this is a major problem with our courts and foster care system….there is not an expectation or standard that people are held to.  I was told by the biological mother in mid-July, as she also did in April, that today she was going to surrender her rights to Emma.  We got to court, and she did not.  She wouldn’t look at me.  She and her husband gave me the all too familiar cold and hard look away when I was trying to engage them.  I knew then that something was up. 

I could write a book about the lack of accountability that the courts offer to people who get more chances than anyone else to break the law and not follow the courts and state’s rules, but honestly, this alone is so exhausting  and causes such intense, internal frustration, that I just don’t want to open that can right now.

Court proceeded as usual, and when the judge said that the goal was still return home, even 21 months later, I became angry inside.  After court recessed, I spoke to the caseworker, and then I talked to the state’s attorney, and I was raising my voice, because I was/am fed up!  We have walked this road for 21 long months, and we thought for sure, as in mid-July, that today was the day-the day that we would move to the next phase of this whole, entire, rotten experience; it didn’t happen.  My mouth has never opened in court for the prior 10 court hearings, but I could no longer keep it in.  As I was sharing, the biological mother pulled me aside and said that she doesn’t want to be terminated, and she is surrendering in September.  She has to either surrender, or a motion will be made to terminate her.  Even knowing this, the deep, intense frustration that I feel is still there.  This whole experience is like a bad dream that one can never wake up from; one that causes terrible fear, panic, anger, frustration and grief!

I cannot imagine that we will ever be free from the constraints that go along with being foster parents.  I cannot describe my longings to have this experience over! 

So, as we have along, we will take one day at a time, and continue praying for God’s wisdom, peace, and self-control, as well as that his will would be done, and that we would learn the lessons that he is trying to teach us

The Fruition of a Prompting

Hello everyone.  I posted some information on Facebook yesterday that concerns our family's future.  I received a phone call yesterday from Emma's (our foster child) mother, and she told us that she was terminating her parental rights and asked us if we would adopt Emma.  I was shocked!  I happen to journal, and I discovered today an entry that I wrote last April of 2013, and I found it to be very relevant.  Here is that entry.

"April 10, 2013

Journal to self:  So, it is 10:30 a.m., and it is Wednesday, April 10, 2013.  About 15 minutes ago, I was sitting here at the dining room table working on a math assignment for an online math class I am taking, when a thought came to my mind about praying for Emma’s mother to give up her rights to her.  I got up from the table, and I started praying that God would immediately cause something to happen, and that he would use that to put thoughts in her head to give Emma up---and a realization that she cannot take care of her, and that she is better off with us, and that she cannot give her the kind of life that she needs, and that she would be able to get beyond our race and her ill feelings towards us for having her child to see Emma, and what she needs.  So, I got on my knees and prayed a simple prayer that God would cause something to happen , and then he would put those thoughts of giving her up in her mind.  I cannot explain this feeling inside of me—it is like a release of the strangest sort.  It is like peace without having any idea of what will happen.  So, I continue to sit here and pray, and I cannot focus on what I am doing.  I was drawn, again, to the verse in Exodus last night, after feeling down from court appearance #5 and the results that the mother and step-dad could have unsupervised visitation rights, and seeing some disturbing behavior from them in the elevator after court.  Exodus says, “The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still.”  As I was sitting here, I prayed this again, and I said, “Lord, your word says that you will fight for us, that we need only to be still, and I thank you for fighting for us and for Emma.”  I also said, “Lord, is anything too hard for you?”  I spoke this out three times, and then I said, “No, nothing is too hard/difficult for you.”  I started praying fervently in the spirit, as I have hundreds of times since Emma came into our family.  I starting praying the song that was in my heart all day yesterday, and of which I sang all throughout the day, “You are the everlasting God, the everlasting God, you do not faint you won’t grow weary, you’re the defender of the WEAK, you comfort those in need, you  lift us up on wings like eag.es.”  I said, “Lord, I thank you that you are the answer, and I pray for your glory to be revealed, and for our children, and us to see your power at work.  You see that I was just talking with my kids last night about God still being mighty and powerful today and that hasn’t changed.”  When I drove home yesterday after court, I passed a church on Curtis Road in Champaign that said, “Miracles happen.”  I made some comment yesterday about us needing that.  I was reminded of this again after I finished talking with the Lord, and I said, “Miracles happen, like that church sign, and we need a miracle here.”  So, I wanted to record these words, prayers, and thoughts of mine, and leave them here and watch and see what our great big God will do."

 

April 22, 2014:  What have I learned from this?  It is important to follow that still small voice inside, and it is also important to remember that God's timing is perfect, and that he doesn't follow our time table.  I had no idea that I would be praying this same prayer for an entire year!  I am thankful that God heard my prayers, and that I was obedient to pray what he spoke to my heart to pray.  There are so many blogs I can still write based on this experience, and I will leave those to another day.  The feelings I am experiencing today vary greatly from excited to terrified.  Some feelings are also raw, and overall, this seems very surreal. 

Becoming an Outlaw

This new blog has quite a long introduction, but I had to set the stage to explain a nugget I have uncovered, which is critical for all of us as human being...especially as spiritual, human beings.  Please hang in there to get to the bottom of this.




So, I began a new book the other day by Ted Dekker called, "Outlaw."  It is a fictitious story about an American who goes on a journey with her two year old son to Thursday Island, which is by Australia.  She comes from a prestigious family in Atlanta, Georgia, and while there, she began having very vivid dreams about a jungle with specific noises, and flying over the jungle to the mountain to meet a man; this is a reoccurring dream.  After a series of events, she decided that she wanted to take her son and explore Thursday Island and get away from her life in Atlanta.  While there, she decided that she wanted to go on a short ride on a sailboat with her son.  She was caught in a storm, and the captain went overboard, and she was found by natives of New Guinea and taken captive.  I won't tell you anymore of this book, but having an introduction of this book is important to what I have uncovered. 


The purpose of this blog is to provide a framework of becoming an outlaw.  I know this sounds rebellious, but I assure you, that this is an important and urging calling for everyone of us who live on this planet.


The boy in this book, Stephen, is raised by a man called the Nameless One or Shaka.  He comes down from the mountain during very critical moments where two brothers, who are vying for their father's kingdom, are about to go to war with each other.  It is suspected from the beginning, that he is a messenger from God, but they don't know this. They each have their fighting men, and they are all tribal people.  Their entire survival is based on their upholding of specific laws and beliefs of living by these rules, otherwise, if they didn't follow these rules, they would be given over to evil spirits.  One of the brother's supporters is the shaman, who is a very evil man.  During one of these moments, Stephen was about to be killed to provide appeasement for not being the son of his mother's husband, who is the other brother.  They are living under the wings of serious darkness.


Stephen is taken to live with Shaka, and this last half of this book talks about some very profound truths that have cut me to the core.  Shaka has taught Stephen since he took him as a two year old child, that he is a soul who is loved by his powerful creator, God.  He taught him that his identity was who he is as a child of God.  He said that people are taught to wear costumes, which allow them to forget who their powerful creator is, and that when he and others stop believing that, that they were living in insanity. 


Shaka taught him, "My true mind is peace, and because my true self is always at peace,  I am dead to insanity.  Only the insane mind offers any disturbance to the sound mind. " (229)
"And who gave you this sound mind?"  "The One from whom I come."  "What is his name?"  "He is called the One.  The Way.  The Truth.  The One who first defeated death and is life.  The One who is perfect and whole, one with God, the atonement, having made right all that was wrong.  He has been called the second Adam.  Jeshua."


"My true self is now made whole, holy, without any further blame, condemnation, or need for correction.  I am dead to the old and alive in him.  I am my Father's child."  "And what wars against this knowledge?"  "The knowledge of good and evil.  Insanity.  Also the costume."  "Can anything separate you?"  "Nothing can separate me.  As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed any separation from him.  I am blameless and nothing can remove me from my Master.  It is impossible."


"Still, though dead, your insane mind speaks and causes suffering."  "Like a madman.  Jabbering always, his mouth moves to a different beat.  He likes to hear himself speak."  "And sometimes you listen, Shaka said."  "Only when I forget he is dead."  "And when you do listen?"  "He temps me to feel threatened.  Less than whole and therefore needing more than I already have.  Love.  Joy.  Peace.  States of being, not simple emotion."  "And emotion is?"  "Sometimes pleasurable, sometimes not, depending on if I listen to insanity."  "The insane secretly crave suffering.  It givens them an identity, however absurd."


"What is the past?"  "The past is past.  It no longer exists.  Now it's never."


"In the place of knowing his true identity, there could be no more true loneliness, because Stephen was one with his Father."


Shaka taught Stephen how to spend quality time absorbing this truth as he was growing up. 


The real meat in this book is found in the above paragraphs that I quoted..it is this idea of wearing costumes, and I will stretch a little further and say that it is wearing labels too.  As I was contemplating these ideas yesterday, I became quite somber.  I was quietly chewing on these thoughts in my head about the costumes I wear, and mostly, I was completely unaware that I wore any at all.


I have been going through a season of heaviness during the last 15 months, and it seems to have begun when we became foster parents, but if I am honest, it probably goes back to the first day I was born.  I have gone through a longer season of not feeling like God loves me, that he has abandoned me, that I am forgotten, that I am so troubled and have so many issues, that there is no way he could love me, and that I will have to live with these issues and this life as I know it forever.  I would also throw in that there exists a great big ball of hopelessness in there.


I have discovered that I wear many costumes, and that I have allowed my identity to be defined by what I have put on myself, and what I have allowed others to put on me.  My identity costumes are many:  my physical body, my physical illness, my education, my monetary status, my house, my vehicles, my desire to be successful, my dreams, my skin color, my sexuality, being a mother, being a foster mother, being a wife, daughter, sister, friend, my spiritual beliefs, political beliefs, my community, my talents, my children's talents, successes, and their failures, my failures, my personality, my weaknesses, and my drive to find my calling in life."


Under all of these, and I know there are mountains-high costumes that I am still unaware of, I find that no wonder I have felt such heaviness, worthlessness, and so far away from God's love.  God has used this book to begin stripping these layers off of me.  This is not an overnight deal, just like they did not suddenly come over me overnight either.  In this book, Shaka tells Stephen that the natives in the valley could not hear what he had to say, and unless they could hear it, his attempts would fail.  I think of this with me. I have felt broken down, and I am in a place where I can receive this, and I believe that it is God-ordained. 


I want to get to the place like Stephen above, where I am fully living in the truth of who I am to God--that I am his daughter, and that he is my powerful Father, and there is nothing that can happen to me if I remember who I am.  I realize that I haven't listened, and that I have lived in what was described above as insanity.  If insanity is the opposite of living as my Father's child, then I have lived in insanity every day of my life.  I'm ready to jump off of the cliffs of insanity and live in God's peace.  As I take a step back from this, I know that I cannot live here anymore.  The past is the past.  It shouldn't even be a part of my life anymore.  Today is truth.  Today, I am being beckoned.  Today, I must choose to trust.  Today I must become an outlaw to this insanity.  Today, I must know that my identity is found only in who my Father has created me to be--that it is not in the roles I have, the jobs I do, the dreams I have, or the dreams I think I want, nor anything else, because it is a counterfeit.


I would be remiss if I didn't uncover the reason why we as human beings wear costumes that bear our identity:  it is a spiritual battle.  I didn't decide that I wanted to wear these costumes, they were spoken to me as overt lies and covert lies.  There is an enemy of our souls, and he is the one who wants us to believe that God is not real, that he doesn't love us, that he forgets and neglects us, that we are unlovable, and that we are stuck in the messiness of our lives forever.  This enemy is called, Satan, and the Bible describes him as the great deceiver, a liar, and the father of all lies, who comes to steal, to kill, and to destroy.  What does he want to destroy?  He wants to destroy our identity, as the precious, created beings of God. By believing lies, we walk away from God and deem him cruel, heartless, uncaring, and unjust.  As Believers, we are not out of harms way.  This enemy desensitizes us too, and it is very subtle.  The pastor of my church spoke last week about apostasy--when one walks away from his/her faith, and he spoke of how it occurs subtly, and we are broken down by people and events, and he gains victory over us.  It is important that we realize that we live in a physical world with great, supernatural forces at work in our lives.  There are powers of light/darkness that are waging war over each of our lives, and I pray that we are open and allow God to expose the darkness, so that we can live in his marvelous light and have our identity wrapped up in Him.