Doubt

No one could have prepared me for the level of doubt I have encountered the closer I have gotten to parenthood.

The tears.  The fear.

The "Oh my goodness what if the child spikes a fever and I don't have a thermometer and that whole rectal temperature just sounds gross and cruel and how on earth do you potty train boys and what if I get a drug addicted baby that never stops crying and I go back to the crazy-eyed intense insomnia Abigail that forgets everything and fights a constant bad mood that existed in college and I can't keep up and I just end up being really bad at what everyone has always said I'll be really good at and then what and can I really do this, just me and God and a whole lot of caffeine" monologue that starts up right around the time I close my eyes to sleep at night.

I have doubts that I can do this alone.  I have doubts that I will be the kind of parent that I've always envisioned.  That I'll let stress get to me.  Or my house will be a hot mess.  Or I won't have the answers to their questions.  I won't know how to guide them, to show them how to love Jesus and love others.

I have doubts. I have fears.

But they're normal, right?  This is a big deal.  I'm becoming a parent.  To broken kids.  From broken families.

And somehow, through the strength that I can only assume that God will give me, I'll parent and I'll do everything I can to help bring restoration for those kids and their families.

Pair of Ducks

Just call me Bipolar Momma.

Actually, no.  Please don't call me that.

I am living, walking, breathing paradoxes right now.

When I finished my last Foster Parenting class on Tuesday, my instructor asked me if I was excited.  It was clear how she came to that conclusion, I was bouncing, smiling, and chatting excitedly with my classmates.  But what was my response?

"I'm terrified!"  Granted, I was still smiling and excited.  I was both.  Fully and completely.

Welcome to paradox.

Life is filled with them.  We teach children in global transition (I work* in missions) about paradox using a wonderful example from MTI - "Pair of Ducks."  It's having a Yay Duck and a Yuck Duck at the same time.  Excited and scared.  Happy and Sad.  Angry and peaceful.  Those ducks come in handy.  Even adults connect with that "pair of ducks" when they find themselves in life's paradoxes.

Tonight I shared a long list with my roommate and then my Mom about how scared I am - of failure, of the unknown, of so many details that I don't know where to begin.  And then I later found myself telling my roommate about my scheduled 1st Home Study visit (June 5th, pray it up!) and found myself inexplicably grinning.  Excitement.  Over my home study.  That I think I should at least have some nervousness about.

Oh paradox.

I'm so confused.  But I'm pretty sure confusion goes right along with any parenting.



(*I got flak recently from a total stranger for saying "work" instead of "I minister."  Honestly, it's semantics.  It is my ministry.  And I love it.  And it's my life's work.  And it is hard work.  Please don't yell at someone over semantics.  Your pastor works at your church.  It's his ministry.  See? It is work.  It's is ministry.  It's both.  It's semantics.  And it's just easier and quicker and often feels a whole lot less pretentious to say "I work."  Because I don't see myself as the amazing wonder-woman missionary.  I see the people who day-in, day-out, faithfully serve God and share Christ in whatever their circumstance - they are my superheroes.)  - Stepping off soapbox.

Incoherent ramblings from a woman who is NOT Wonder Woman.

I met with a couple today who recently affiliated with our organization.  They have been called to work in Cambodia with Rapha House, an amazing organization that works to fight child trafficking and sexual exploitation.  It, to me, is mind-blowingly amazing work.  There is a certain grandeur in my mind associated with this kind of work.

But I have a strong feeling, it won't feel that way when they are in it.

My friends who have fostered for years - that's superhero work.  Working with these children coming from desperate situations - how above my boring day to day.  They are superheroes.

And I think there have been times in the past that it's flitted through my mind, "Wow, I'm really going to be doing something amazing here.  Look at me, really sacrificing.  Doing something huge and great for these children, and heck, for society as a whole."

As it comes closer though, I'm drawn back to reality.  Right now, I'm realizing that I only have about 4 months.  4 months to prepare, to move houses, to organize and figure out my life (what?  Is that even possible?  No).

I don't think that when you are in the midst of something, you can ever really grasp it.  I don't think Mother Theresa looked up from the slums and thought, "Wow, I'm really changing lives here.  Look at this amazing thing that God is doing through me."

I have no idea what my life will look like later this year.  I may be changing diapers, drying tears, or trying to calm a child in an angry rage they don't even fully understand.  I hope that I will be doing good.  I hope that I will be helping them grow and have a positive impact on their life, even if they are only with me for a day.  But I don't think I'll see greatness.  I think I'll just see life.  Maybe someday I'll be given glimpses of how Christ was at work the whole time and how I was able to be a part of it.

What am I trying to say?  I have no delusions of grandeur.  I see people do great and amazing things all over the world and yet, I don't think a single one of them can see it from the midst of it all.  For our future workers in Cambodia, I don't think they will see what I see - "wow, look at them being a part of changing these young girls' entire future.  Look at them help shape a country for the better."  No, they won't see that, because they will be in the midst of it, working with broken girls, helping reshape their lives.  Helping them heal from deep, painful hurts.  And all you can do at that point is try to help mend a broken heart, one piece at a time.

That's what I'm going to try with all my heart to do.  Help mend broken hearts of children and their families, however I can, on piece at a time.

Prayer for my foster child

Tonight the journey begins.  I will be attending Foster Parent Orientation.  Next week I will begin 10 weeks worth of classes, to be followed by paperwork, background checks, fingerprinting, paperwork, home studies, and yes, more paperwork.

Theoretically, you could say I'm in my "2nd Trimester."  Of course my baby could be a 3 year old or siblings, or, yes, an infant.

As I face this reality, I am growing more aware that my child, the child (or children) God has planned for me to be Momma too, they are alive right now.  And they are likely facing whatever it is that causes them to be separated from their biological parents.  That is an overwhelming prospect that I can do nothing about myself.  The thought that they may be scared or abused this very moment breaks my heart.

So I pray - the only and most effective thing I can do.

Heavenly Daddy, 

Please protect the children You already know will be entrusted to me.

If they are in a home of abuse, please shield them from it.  Surround them with a shield that causes them to not see abuse done to others and protect their own bodies from harm.

Let their ears not hear angry and vile words sent out to tear them down.

Let them feel love from somewhere, even if they are in a loveless home.

Let them be shielded from drugs and other inappropriate substances.

Lord, if they are still in the womb right now, protect their forming bodies from substances that could destroy their futures.  Work a miracle and block those toxins from hurting them.  

Guard their hearts and their minds.  Help them to know how to love and attach.  

Work in ways I could never understand to help these children grow into fabulous, strong, and smart individuals with a passion for life and for You.  

God, help me to be the momma that they need.  For however long they need.  Give me strength to understand their needs and to love them well.  

Protect my children I've never met Lord.  Hold them tight in Your hand until I can hold them in my arms.  

In Jesus' precious name,

Amen.

God is with me

All along this journey, so far, I have had peace from God about this decision.  And occasionally, I get little affirmations along the way.

Recent ones include:

• The classes for Fostering are going to be hosted (for the first time ever) at my own church.  What a blessing to be at one of the places I feel at home among, hopefully, others I fellowship with weekly!
• I was hoping to buy a small baby swing at a local children's thrift store.  The owner asked me if I sewed (of course...Mom was a home ec. teacher, after all!) and then told me it was missing a small piece but it just needed someone who could sew a new one on.  Because of that he couldn't sell it to me, but he could give it to me!  Free swing!
• Amazing connection!  A friend of mine read this blog and connected me with her sister-in-law on Facebook.  She has been doing single momma foster parenting for 4 years now.  What a blessing to be encouraged by her story and have her as a connection, kindred spirit, and resource.  Read her blog, seriously, do it.

God is so good to me!

Beautiful sight to my eyes

This past Sunday, I was handed this info card at church.  The note at the bottom made my heart leap.

This is happening!  Orientation is the last Tuesday of this month, then I have 10 weeks of classes, every Tuesday.  

Wow.

When life gets complicated

It was a simple plan, if there is such a thing.  I would start fostering in the summer of 2012.  And that was that.  I would work during the day and be a full-time mom every night and weekend.  Day care would be necessary, but I would be around at all other times.  I was moving forward!

Then our Africa regional director (I work for a Missionary Sending organization, NMSI) told me they were almost set in getting me to go to our Africa regional this year in Kenya - in late August to run the children's programming during the conference.

Our Asia regional director has told me they are still trying to work it out, but it's a possibility - in September.

I was told that our regional retreat would probably be out of the country for at least 11 days.  11 days!?

And all I could think was, "What about my kids?"  In case you don't know, you can't just take foster kids out of the country.  It just doesn't happen.  You can get special permissions to take them out of state (fingers crossed for Christmas!) but out of the country is a definite no-go.

So life gets complicated.  But as someone recently reassured me, "good foster parents are hard to come by."  So I press forward, to hopefully be a good foster parent, who does as much as she can, when she can, to whoever she is given.



*edit:  Sarah just let me know that you can actually take a foster child out of the country, it's just a very involved process (i.e. paperwork, court dates, etc...).