My Thoughts on "The Tough Days" post

I had a hard time publishing yesterday's post and for the first time ever, thought about pulling it off last night.  I felt anxious and wasn't sure why.  This morning I think I have a better idea.

If anyone asked my advice about being vulnerable on the internet, I would probably tell them not to be.  So that's part of it.  Just like everyone else, it hurts to be judged and misunderstood, especially in baring my heart.  But that wasn't really it.  I think it felt dangerous to me.  Like I was breaking some unspoken rules of parenthood, adoptive parenthood and adoption worker-hood.  That's why I thought about pulling it off. 

The day after that tough day, I had lunch with my high school daughter.  We talked for a couple hours about school and friends and the values she believes in.  She said some of the nicest things about our family that I've ever heard - and she's on the INSIDE!  She is thankful for many of the ways our family is and the choices that Chris and I make.  She told me that so far she hasn't met one kid in our small town with a good family like ours.  That surprised me.  I know it is just her perspective based on what she hears from kids around her, but I was stunned that the family she was talking about was the same one I wrote about yesterday.  And that's when I realized that I DO need to keep this blog honest.  Because the darkness we experience sometimes is the same place that holds the light of redemption and love.  In all of my dreams as a kid of what having my own family would be like, I could never have imagined it would be this painful and this hopeful.  It is WAY better than the simple happy family I imagined. 

These are REAL kids, with real hearts that get hurt by each other and by me.  REAL kids that have lived through abandonment and orphanages and understand that crazy mix of fear and hope that are overpowering in an adoptive placement of an older child.  REAL kids that have seen kids come and go in their family and lost more siblings than anyone I know.  REAL kids that have adjusted to losing their birth order and living with other kids they don't know or trust.  And I am a REAL mom who longs for a bunch of happy kids who enjoy each other, but finds myself constantly mediating conflict.  A REAL mom with limits to my own energy and hope, and my own childhood demons that appear when I am most vulnerable.

I work with many adoptive families and I know I am not the only one who struggles through this life.  I'm sure after my last post there are people who would judge me for letting my birth kids be affected negatively by our choices to help.  And I'm sure there are also some foster/adoptive parents that would judge me for grieving the losses of my birth kids.  I used to be one of them.  When my son struggled with foster kids in our family, my social worker heart would rise up, shake my fist in the air and resolve not to listen to the whining of the privileged.  But I regret that.  I wish I could go back and listen to his heart (through his anger of course).  I wish I could have done a better job of helping him through his confusion and validating his fear and longing for stability.  I'm working to change that.  But I can only see and understand his pain through eyes of regret.  And my regret was the ax that was strong enough to break down his concrete wall of anger.  Years of counseling and medication must have helped, but my tears and understanding of the pain he didn't understand himself, have been a healing balm to deep wounds.  So regret is very important to me.

Several weeks ago I was talking with an adoptive parent I respect very much.  Their family has struggled for years with their child and I heard the words "no one ever told us it could be like this - this isolating and hard".  The adoptive worker in me wanted to feel defensive.  But I know that they were not prepared for all they have faced.  In the adoption field many of us are trying to do much better now in preparing families.  But there is also reality and I feel it myself when I work with adoptive families.  Even as I try to help their expectations become realistic I don't want that hope and excitement in their eyes to fade.  They need to feel joy and their new child needs that too.  Who wants to join a family filled with suspicion and hard hearts?  So there has to be a balance for families.  And also - how do I explain all of this to a family before they start their own journey?  With all of my heart I hope theirs will be easier than mine.  But even if it isn't easier, it won't be the same.

I went to a FRUA (Families for Russian and Ukrainian Adoptions) conference many years ago.  I listened to the stories in the audiences of the workshops and was humbled by what I heard.  I remember sitting there and realizing these parents were warriors.  Their kids are some of the toughest around due to pre-natal exposure of alcohol and years of institutionalization that are hard to imagine.  But these last few years I realized that I'm a warrior too.  There are many of us.  We are quiet in our war.  Because the battles are complicated and sensitive and the pain runs deep.  We are fighting for the hearts of our kids - ALL of them.  Some of us are helping kids reconcile to living with other kids they don't like and some of us have had to let go of our hope and find a better placement for a child in order to keep everyone safe.  We are trying to hold onto who we were when we started our adult lives, before we understood how deep the heart of a parent goes.  We are fighting to keep strong marriages strong, and some of us are fighting to hold onto marriages that bend and break under the weight of pain and conflict in our homes. 

But my understanding of warrior has changed.  In that conference I felt it because the parents I met had been physically attacked by their children, had their other children abused, had to fight school systems to get help for their children and given up the visions of family that they had started with. And lived around the constant judgement of family and friends who can never understand.  Now I know that the other side of being a warrior is about peace.  It is the lifelong journey of trying to help our kids find peace with the events in their lives and peace with each other.  It includes making peace with God in all the things I won't understand until I stand in Heaven, and making peace between the me I intended to be and the me I am. 

So my blog post from yesterday stays.  And my fight for peace continues.

The Tough Days

Some days are just hard.  Later I try to pick apart all the contributing factors to try to explain myself.  Usually there is some build-up that I failed to recognize or insecurities that crept up on me somehow.  My health and energy often seem to play a role.  But the circumstances of my life are the biggest factors.

I was a thoughtful, reflective, intense kid.  I had high ideals and lofty expectations of myself.  I always intended to live a life without regret.  And I honestly thought that was possible.  I thought if I always let my Savior direct my path and my choices and I tried to honor other people, then I wouldn't have mistakes to regret.  How little I understood of life, and of following my Savior's direction.

Chris and I always wanted to be intentional in our lives and we wanted to help.  But those wishes hold inherent regret.  There is always more to do and always people we can't help.  We chose to help kids and families by being a foster family.  It's impossible to know on this side of Heaven if we really helped anyone.  We sure saw pain and felt the weight of playing a part in that pain as kids tried to cope with their lives.  And our kids got hurt.  I do regret that very much.  They learned that the kids in their home could be unpredictable and sometimes my kids didn't feel safe.  One of my kids couldn't put words to his frustration and his aggressive behavior reflected his confusion - resulting in a skewed view of his own goodness and worth.  Our kids grew up hearing and knowing that families don't always stay together and parents don't always protect and take care of their kids.  I don't think it is good to shelter kids from the world, but I regret their loss of security and how it affected them at critical developmental stages.

Chris and I chose careers that don't pay as well as others, so we've juggled multiple jobs along with our kids and service in our churches and community.  I don't regret our choice of work, but I regret the costs to our family sometimes. That's hard and has taken a toll on all of us over the years.  I battled over 2 years of chronic fatigue syndrome and some health issues while we lived in Oregon.  I regret being a tired, anxious, irritable mom especially while our 4 newest kids were adjusting to our family and our first two boys adjusted to the new additions.  There are many directions and choices in this life that I don't regret. -  But the lies and insecurities that I can't seem to shake, affect even those sometimes.

Our family has had lots of healing over the last few years.  Sometimes I think healing gives us a glimpse into who we could be and I long for who I see down the road.  I love the signs of healing and maturity in my kids, but sometimes that makes the setbacks we face even more painful.

A couple of days ago was a very bad day.  It ended in tears with one of my kids as we shared some mutual pain and grief from the past and asked for forgiveness of each other.  By that evening I was feeling better and could see and feel a little more clearly.  I guess I'm learning that I thought God was asking me to live a life without regrets.  But that would mean perfection and that was never His call on my life.  On the big things I always try to do what I feel God has asked of me, so I guess I don't really have those big, life-choice kind of regrets.  I struggle a lot more with the little things - like trust and hope and peace in tough circumstances.  I regret that I don't always look to Jesus first when I'm feeling hurt or betrayed.  I regret that sometimes my own insecurities take over and bind me from being what my kids and Chris need most.  And I regret not being better at balancing work and helping other people's kids, with doing better with my own.

But this weekend I wondered if maybe it is in my regret that I see more clearly.  In my shame and guilt I realize what I truly value.  I realize how deeply I love my kids when I see the hurt in their eyes at my inadequacy.  I remember I am not in control of much, and it is only my reaction that is truly my responsibility.  I miss Chris when we don't make time to connect with each other in the busyness of life and start to question our importance to each other.  These are regrets that allow me to ask for help and to change things, find healing and change myself while I'm still here.

There are only 2 ways that it would be possible to not feel regret.  I could be perfect in a perfect life (which sure sounded good to a 15 year-old me longing for a beautiful life).  The other option is that I choose not to feel regret.  To close myself off from the pain I cause others and to turn away from people whose pain will not end with anything I can provide.  I have met people who don't feel regret and I'm realizing that is the last person I want to be.  And I think sometimes that it is a really deep regret that leads people to live without feeling guilt or any longing to do things better or make things right.  To turn away and insulate myself is not an option for me.  I realize I learn from my regrets, and I get better, and I get a bit closer to who I could be.

So maybe it isn't a life without regret that I should be looking for.  But instead, a life that is open enough to recognize regret. When I feel the pain that comes with regret, I am able to change the direction of a path I don't recognize anymore.  And look to my Savior when I don't like who I see in the mirror.

On Sunday our church sang an old hymn by Fanny Crosby that I have always loved. It reminds me that avoiding regret isn't my calling.  Following Jesus to the end of life is my great desire and I am never alone.  I plan to sing it on my way up to Heaven someday.

All the way my Savior leads me; what have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy, who through life has been my Guide?
Heavenly peace, divinest comfort, here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know whate'er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well. 

All the way my Savior leads me, cheers every winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for every trial, feeds me with the living bread.
Though my weary steps may falter, and my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me, lo! a spring of joy I see. 

All the way my Savior leads me; Oh, the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised in my Father's house above.
When my spirit, clothed immortal, wings its flight to realms of day,
This my song through endless ages: Jesus led me all the way. 

 - by Fanny Crosby in 1875

New: Pacific Northwest Post Adoption Resource Blog

I have been working in adoption with Bethany Christian Services for the past 4 years.  I enjoy getting to know families and writing homestudies.  I LOVE getting to meet the kids we have all been working towards and longing for, once they are placed.  Providing post adoption support to families is possibly my favorite part of adoption work - if there could be a favorite part... It is an honor to be a small part of the process and to help families as they adjust to a new member.  I have met some of the people I respect most in my life through Bethany, and have seen miracles happen not only in the adoption process, but within families.

I have been helping out part-time since our move up north and it looks like I will be a more regular part of the foster care adoption team at Bethany, which I am really looking forward to!  We have a brand new branch director, Paulette Caswell, that we are all thrilled about.  She brings TONS of experience and passion to our agency branch here in Washington and Oregon and we have already witnessed the blessings her leadership brings to our work.  Paulette has worked in foster care adoption in California and Washington and knows just about everything there is to know about resources and how to access them.  She used to publish a post-adoption resource newsletter during her years working for Washington state.  She has decided to start a blog and hopes it will grow to be a very helpful resource for families.  I am adding it to my resources list on the side bar and wanted to share it:
Pacific Northwest Post Adoption Resource blog

New Addition for our Friends!

One of my oldest and dearest friends is in China right now.  She and her husband have had a very long wait for their first child in China.  They were able to get him yesterday and I can't begin to describe how happy I am for them.  Susie has been through middle school, high school, and college with me.  She is one of those lifelong friends that graces my life with her presence.  Most of my best childhood and teen memories have her in them!  Susie and her husband, Erik, have poured themselves into the children and youth of their small community for years and are finally able to pour out their love and humor on their own son.  Her little Jeremiah honestly feels like a nephew to me and I can't wait to meet him!

They started a blog so friends could follow their experience at:
Bring Jeremiah Home: The Journey to Meeting our Son

New mom and son!

Jeremiah and his daddy.

Erik, Susie and Jeremiah

When Did He Get So Smart?

So J.T. and I had several quick errands to do.  We ran in and out of a couple of stores and then headed into Bed, Bath and Beyond to look for bean bag chairs.

I haven't been in that store for years and the immediate onslaught of interesting things hit me as we walked through the door.  So many things I had no idea I needed, let alone had been invented!  As I was pointing out fascinating things, J.T. was hanging onto the side of the cart, clearly overwhelmed by the immensity of options for sale around him.

My delight was cut short when after about 2 minutes in the store I heard an instruction that I say to several of my kids fairly often but I've never had anyone say to me.  J.T. looked at me and firmly said, "FOCUS, Mom!"

I looked at him in surprise as I saw that at least 3 people looked over at us to see what kind of mom would need her four year-old to keep her on track during a shopping trip.  I wanted to explain to them that I don't get out much, but somehow I knew that would not make things better.

Sometimes I wish kids didn't listen to me...

J.T.'s selfie

Seasons

I've always been a summer person.  I love the heat, and the sun somehow warms my heart & and makes life more fun.  But in the last 10 years or so spring has also caught my heart.  The longer I live and the more I experience, the more I long for growth, healing and re-birth in my own life & in others.  Spring is able to bring outward evidence of hope and promise after a long, dark northwest winter.  Now I long for the first signs of spring and feel my heart warming to hope again.

I've never had much use for fall or winter because of all the cloudy days.  I don't mind rain except for cold rain, which is what we have for months in the fall and winter.  As a kid I appreciated snow days and sledding.  But the beauty and quiet blanket of peace that snow brings to a neighborhood somehow lost out to the pain of traveling to work in the snow and ice, and potential frostbite for kids who eternally refuse to dress warm enough for the weather.  Plus snow is normally rare around here and hardly seems worth the cost of long, dark days with drizzly rain that lasts for weeks at a time.  All the kids cooped up in the house without an outlet for their energy is hard on everyone.  Every winter I feel anxious and closed-in and wonder how I ever felt happy in my dreary life.  After 30+ years of this pattern I figured out it was a seasonal thing for me and that even though it feels like forever, it never is.  An end comes just as I give up hope, and six months of relief settle in.

This winter was different.  We were always cold, thanks to our walls of windows and propane prices that tripled after we bought our house.  But there is something cozy and safe about this home.  And maybe it is also that our relationships have healed enough over the last couple of years that there is finally more peace than conflict - usually.

Chris and I have experienced a re-birth in our relationship since we moved back here.  This past fall we began to feel younger and hopeful and in love with our life together.  We have always had a strong and caring marriage, but this life has been so much harder than we had planned and we aged faster than we could have believed.  The darkness of this winter has not been an emotional darkness, as in the past.  It was simply dark outside a lot - but we've been regularly happy and craved our time together.  For the first time in my life I am looking at the spring weather of this past week with bittersweet happiness.  I realized today that I will actually MISS this last winter.  That is a very strange first for me.  It used to be that I loved the seasons.  But I meant overall - because fall and winter were really just the pain and darkness of life that allows us to appreciate and embrace the joy and happiness of spring and summer.  I can now say that I enjoy all the seasons of this beautiful place.  Each holds its own rare beauty to me and thankfulness is replacing seasonal depression in my heart.

I love this place...

Fun in the Fog

Chris is a regular on Craig's List.  If there is anything someone may consider trying to sell or give away, Chris has probably thought to search for it at some point.  In January he and our neighbor came across a listing for a dock that a near-by hotel was selling for $200.  Chris has been trying to figure out how to design and build a dock that will survive on a creek that rises daily with the tides.  Somehow in the conversations with the hotel, the dock was reduced to $1 since we were local and could haul it away.  Chris and our neighbor began planning and calling friends for ideas on how to make this dock work.  The dock is concrete so the only way to get it to our house was to tow it up the creek.  But that would require a very high tide to make sure the boats had time to get up the creek and back down before the tide lowered too far.  A special high tide was recommended by someone @ 11:00 on a Sunday morning.  Chris, our neighbor and two older gentlemen friends with boats met at 8:30am that morning to start the process.  The one thing that no one thought of was fog.  It was SUPER heavy and thick that morning...like where it was semi-dangerous to drive...on the road - where there are lines to keep you going the right way.

They set out and could not see a thing.  The trick was driving the dock around the bay and finding the mouth of our creek to head up to our houses.  They could barely see their hands in front of their faces.  Using a compass, after a panicky phone call to our neighbor's wife about possibly being lost out in the bay, by a welcome miracle they were able to find our creek.   They headed up and we were waiting.  The fog was so thick that we could hear the boat motors awhile before we could actually see them.  And then they were here...

Chris is in the boat on the right and the dock is on the left.

We can finally see it...

bringing it up to land...

Just as it was being delivered, a couple of dear friends from Oregon (blog link is on the side: Treasures Through His Grace) stopped by to say hi and see our new house.  They got to see the dock brought to shore and witness our crazy morning.  Pretty excellent timing, Amber and Adam!

 When the guys went to sign the papers a week later, we found out there was still another dock available.  That would mean our neighbors could have their own, and so could we.  The only problem was trying to tow another one.  That's when the marina guy offered to tow it up for us and drop it off at our house.  In my head I heard: THEY DELIVER???????  So a few days later Chris looked out and realized that the 2nd dock had been dropped off.  I had been home all morning and never saw or heard a thing.  Good thing we had our fill of excitement the first time around, because no one noticed the 2nd one arrive...

Prepared

 Some members of our family struggle with impulsivity, so we practice slowing thoughts down and thinking through decisions and anticipating the consequences of our actions.  Other members struggle with the frustrating absence of memory when it would be SUPER helpful to remember stuff.  So we also practice skills to help jog memory or keep us organized when we know our minds just won't help us out.

Our youngest son is benefiting from all he overhears, whether he needs the skills or not.  So when it was time to go see Daddy graduate, this is what he looked like: 

 When you go to a strange college to celebrate your dad, it always helps to be prepared - for swimming, welding, or any natural disaster that might threaten your eyes.

My husband: Chris, Ed.D

I've been proud of Chris MANY times over the last 16+ years - mostly for things that don't have anything to do with celebration and accomplishment.  Chris is a very easy-going person who is able to make conversation with anyone.  He is intellectually gifted and insightful with a compassionate heart.  Most people know one or two sides of him - musician, school counselor, autism specialist, worship leader, soccer coach, behavior & special education facilitator, sound engineer, home remodeler, social worker, or loyal friend.  The husband and father I know is all of these.  And last May, after three brutal years of classes, research, a successful dissertation and a GPA of just under 4.0, he graduated with his doctorate.

Even after 10 months, an out-of-state move, new job, and large remodeling project, he still wonders what he is supposed to do with all this free time...that's how much work it was!  I was so happy for him on his graduation day and SO glad it was over.  I hope after 11 years of college, he feels done.  But I'm not holding my breath....

Back in our Small Town

We spent the last 5 years in Oregon.  We loved living close to family and enjoyed having a swimming pool a few minutes away.  All of our kids learned to swim and G.J. was on the swim team.  We served in a church that became like family to us.  Chris loved his elementary school and I loved working in an adoption agency.  But we had felt our time closing there as Chris prepared to complete graduate school (again!) and we started a 2-state job search.  Chris graduated with his doctorate in May and also holds a principal certification so the options were wide open and sometimes overwhelming.  We knew we would be moving, but were honestly open to anywhere we could afford to raise our kids.

Mt. Baker looms over our icy creek - pic taken from our yard.

Last June God surprised us with the offer to move back to our old community.  In awe, we began preparing to move back to the small town in Washington where we spent the first 9 years of our marriage.  We were able to spend the summer introducing our kids to this beautiful area that we love above all others.  We bought a house in September that is different and better than any we could have imagined.  It is on a large saltwater creek and we have enjoyed learning about salmon runs and boats and watching the wildlife. This morning on the way to pre-school J.T. reminded me that he would be living with us on the creek forever!  It is a peaceful place and we feel like we are on vacation all the time.  Chris is just about done building three more bedrooms upstairs so there is room for everyone.  We are back in our small town and it is sometimes still hard for me to believe that God would grant the deepest desire of my heart, when I have always been prepared to go anywhere.

Our backyard tree.

A regular visitor.

Beautiful winter.

So here we are, spending time with old friends and back in a church that we helped plant many years ago.  We are just over an hour away from my family again so they are a regular part of our lives.  It is a strange experience to be back because much is the same and yet so much is different.  WE are different, and there are more of us now.  I am glad for the experiences, growth and healing we found in Oregon.  And I am so incredibly thankful to be back in our small town.  I look forward to experiencing all the reasons why God brought us back.

What a view!

Changes

I haven't blogged regularly since our oldest girls joined our family 3 1/2 years ago.  It amazes and tires my mind to ponder all the changes we have experienced since then.  In so many ways I feel like a different person.

One thing that remains inside me, though, is the love of putting my thoughts to words and I remember how special this blogging space was to me.  I can feel the thoughts swimming and burning to be recognized, even if it is only for my own heart.

 And so I return, wiser and a bit closer to who God is calling me to be.  And still trying to laugh at the crazy things that happen to me...

The sky over the 1st game at the Hillsboro Hops baseball stadium.