The Aftermath

Once again, sleep has evaded me. I either cannot fall, cannot get back, or cannot erase the dreams. Still tired, but not enough to shut down I wander down the hall and sit here at my desk to rehash whatever it is.

My goal through this journey has been to grow and trust God with it all. Along the way exploring complete joy in the trials and seeing Him more clearly. I have underestimated the effects it has had on those around me. Our son Judah, who until recently was our middle child is trying to find his place once again. He is floundering and needing a lot of assurance. I am grateful for his honesty. He often says what I cannot put into words so simply. Kids don't care about vulnerability, what to do next. They just let their mixed bag spill all over the floor and make a mess. I do believe that my children will see Jesus more clearly through this. It is just so hard to watch the aftermath. I have no control. Their sister is not like a fish that can be replaced with another. We are all floundering. Questions of what comes next are at the forefront for each of us.

I had a flashback of our first encounter with Alyssa. The day we allowed her into our hearts. I remember holding her small frame in my arms. Knowing that she was mine and that one way or another, I would never be the same. It was so vivid and so painful. Like a craving, I would have given anything to hold her again in that moment of reflection.

Today, I am struck with a desire to move forward. Our home is forever impressioned by her presence. There is a vast hole here. I have no desire to replace her with a different model. I am waiting for God to tell me what to do next. I have a passion to help people, but in what capacity? Do we give the green light and allow our hearts to be vulnerable to breakage again by taking in another child? So many need loving homes and we have that to give. Do I allow this new stage to be a catalyst for other passions? I have many opportunities to minister in ways that I have not thought about since my first son was born. I have the freedom to go with my husband and serve along side him. I can visit friends in Africa and New Guinea. There is also this underlying question, If we get too used to life without her, will we be able to go back to that stage again? The diapers, car seats and toys are just a fragment. The stress and strain it puts on our family, our marriage. The lack of control, of protection for someone so small.

My desire to honor God with my life is entangled with so much of who I am. So many factors shape who we are and why we do what we do. The bottom line is a little elusive for me at this point. I would love for God to put a giant neon sign in my front yard that points me in the right direction. I would have little trouble jumping right in. Although, not all knowing, I am wise enough to see that refinement does not come with the obvious answers. Refinement comes with the heat of the flame, the chisel, the hammer. I want my life to reflect that of Christ. I desire for my children to see God changing me. And for my mixed bag to spill on the floor and be made into something unexpected.

James 1:2-6:

²Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. ⁴Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. ⁵If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. ⁶But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

Proceed

Proceed: to continue after a pause or interruption b : to go on in an orderly regulated way
3 a : to begin and carry on an action, process, or movement b : to be in the process of being accomplished

I have avoided writing. The reality of her absence is great and I am trying to work through the chaos that is in my head. Three weeks ago Alyssa went to be with her mother. The beginning of our grief came like a whip lash. The day we went to court to find out our fates was the same day we had to pack her things and say goodbye. To state the emotions felt that day would not do it justice.

Our first two weeks were spent traveling by car up the coast to see family. Our goal was to get away and just "be". It proved to be a reprieve from the grief in a way. Although we missed Aly we were able to talk about her without crumbling. It gave the boys a chance to explain how they felt when they were ready. We returned to our lives. Tim went to work, the boys started back at school, and I have been trying to "be" by myself.

I knew that I'd need to keep myself busy, but the waves of exhaustion and pure sadness are proving to be a worthy adversary for me. The idea of having the house to myself for 6 hours should be a nice change but it just feels wrong. Empty, quiet, wasted space that keeps reminding me that she is gone.

No one told me that I would feel so useless once she left. That I would miss cleaning up her messes, hearing her laugh, walking into her room to find her smiling from her crib. I even miss her high pitched yelling. I cannot bring myself to enter her room. The door has been closed for weeks. How do I go in, how do we proceed? How does someone move on from this when there is someone missing.

I haven't thought about a career since our first son was born. Now, it is staring me in the face and I feel as though the only job I am qualified for is wiping noses and changing diapers. There is no easy way to enter grief and loss. No plan, no possibilities on the horizon. Just the ups and downs of each day, trying to live. I struggle because I want to do something that matters. I don't want to waste time grieving. Just let me do something already.

These are the thoughts in my head. The nagging twinges of doubt and frustration. Every once in a while I stop the noise and listen. God is telling me to be still. To trust Him for He is good. So I am learning that I cannot rush grief along. It stings, pulls you down, and then allows you to reach for the one who can make sense of it. Three weeks is not enough time to get over a loss. There is no time limit for such things. God will change me if I allow it. If I allow it in His time.

I miss her. My heart aches to hold her again. He is my comfort. He is my strength. Three weeks feels like an eternity. I pray for protection and love for her.

Two Weeks

So I am trying to breathe. The anticipation of grief is more indescribable than any other trial in my life. Let me be real. . . I have never anticipated grief before. Does anyone? Maybe the people that would rather prepare for the "worst case scenario". Those that prohibit hope from their vocabulary. Those that don't want to loose control. Those that have experienced loss in such a way that they have not recovered from the first drowning.

Tim was given a call from Alyssa's social worker yesterday. She let us know that the judge may give Alyssa's birth mother custody of her the very day of the hearing. That would give us about 4 hours to say goodbye and pack her things. Although it is like a band aid being ripped off, it doesn't seem to make things less painful. It is only showing me that the few hours that I may have left with my daughter are so much more precious than I thought.

Last night I couldn't sleep. I was too angry, confused, hurt. Alyssa usually doesn't stir in the night but awoke crying, so I was able to hold her. I don't know what made her wake from her peaceful, naive sleep, but I see each opportunity to tell her I love her as a gift. She was so trusting in my arms. As I swayed back and forth, as only a parent does when rocking their child, I gave in. The tears just came. What had been building in my heart and head could no longer be contained. With the stillness, the quiet, the safety of the dark and my baby in my arms, I could allow the grief that has been waiting to come. As I swayed and sobbed, I could feel Alyssa's hands softly moving along my back. It was almost as if she was letting me know that she would be ok. She then moved her hand under her belly and grabbed my finger. Such a sweet little hand. I will remember her peace in that moment. I will cling to that memory as I say goodbye.

Promise once it shuts you out

You ask, "What was that all about now"

You and I through rise and fall

We've seen the horizon through it all now

Close your eyes this time

Cause trust is all we have tonight

But trust will be forever

Safe your dreams will be

Cause trust will be the light tonight

So close your eyes this time

Cause trust will be your light tonight

So close your eyes this time.

The house is stale

It lets you roam

Inside it just don't feel like home now

I promise hope will pull you out

for that's what love is all about

Close your eyes this time

Cause trust is all we have tonight

But trust will be forever

Safe your dreams will be

Cause trust will be the light tonight

So close your eyes

One thing I love about Alyssa is her tough nature. She possesses something I never had as a child. A confident, curious, wild nature that doesn't back down. She is a beautiful, observant, hard headed, rough tom-boy. God has built her to handle more than I will ever understand. I know she will be well protected. The dread of holding her for the last time is too overwhelming so for the next two weeks I can spoil her with kisses and love. I pray she remembers how much she is loved. I pray she knows that she will always have a place in our home. Alyssa is my daughter, and is such a gift, as any child is. A beautiful, messy, difficult, temporary gift. May I have new eyes through my grief.

"I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul."

Psalm 31:7

September 24th, court hearing. Pray for Alyssa and her birth mother as we proceed.

No Overnights

So, we don't know what is going on.  Things can be quite cryptic with the county.  All that we know is that there are no overnight visits taking place in the near future.  Didn't get a reason, just that we will continue to do our usual 2 hour Friday visits.  I am thanking God for his protection and His unique ways of showing me He is in control.  Please continue to pray for Fridays' visits and for our interaction with the birth mom.  The court hearing is September 24th which is right around the corner.  Until then we will enjoy the time we have with our beautiful daughter.

Your prayers and support are a comfort.  

Holding On

So, a month to the day we will find out the future of our daughter Alyssa. Trying to stay afloat would be an understatement for our lives right now. The social worker is going to recommend reunification for the birth mother and Alyssa. It will be up to the judge to decide what is best for her.

We begin overnight visits this week. I cannot begin to explain how that makes me feel, so I won't try. I am praying and praying for protection for Aly and hoping that the time with her birth mother is positive and fruitful. I don't want any ill will for her mother. She is doing exactly what the judge has asked of her. She is fighting for her daughter and for that I admire her strength. My heart and emotions are changing through this process. Although Alyssa is my daughter and loosing her would be the biggest loss of my life, I want her mother to do well. I pray that our love for Alyssa will continue long after she forgets we were even a part of her life. I pray that it will help her to attach with her birth mother and learn to trust all over again. If I say that I am afraid for her, am I doubting God's ability to protect? If I say that I can't see her being loved more than she is loved here, am I incapable of comprehending the power that God's love has for us? So, I trust the one who orchestrates our lives and gave Alyssa to our care. He will watch over her and give her the strength to get through the life that lies ahead.

I am so scared of loosing her but ready for God's plan to unfold. All this waiting and surviving is exhausting.

I will rejoice with those who rejoice and I will mourn with those who mourn, Jesus said. I do believe I am beginning to understand that those two emotions can happen simultaneously and I must believe that the Lord will sustain us. So, pray for Alyssa as these next two months may prove to be challenging and inconsistent for her. Pray for her birth mother. That God would give her strength to carry this through. And please pray as we learn how to talk to our boys about their sister.

We await God's plan. We hold on until then.

Hard to Say

Looking ahead I am curious what God has planned.  The summer has begun and the kids are playing in the mud, the rocks, the grass and the water.  Nearly nine months have passed since Alyssa's placement with us.  It feels like she has always been here but more of  a sereal, dream.  The question of her permanence has never been far from our minds and as September 24th approaches reality is less illusive and almost tangible.  

The hope that was to adopt Alyssa has now become something quite different.  At this point in time it would be more of a surprise.  The birth mother is doing miraculously well.  We are interacting with her each week in the hopes that it will bring about a transition for Alyssa.  Of course this is all speculation on my part.  The judge will make a decision in September and the mother has 3 months to falter.  I am stumbling through this process with the hope of a healthy outcome for Alyssa and a permanent home for her to grow in.  

My heart is much like a piece of crusty clay.  There are moments of crumbling at the pieces of news I receive from the social worker.  Then there are moments where at the center of it all, I know that my purpose is clear to the one who matters.  He did not say to me, " I have a gift for you and everything will turn out just as you had planned".  He did tell me that it is my hearts desire that he will fulfill.  It is hard to say how I am feeling, how this will all turn out, but God has given us a passion for people.  In this moment the risk seems too great.  I don't think I can do this again if she leaves us.  Just reading those words seems so faithless.  I hope that over time I will be given opportunities to open my heart to another risk.  Risks are faith being lived out after all.  

What Can I Bear?

Growing up, I remember the concept of God not giving us more than we can bear.  I was studying this passage in 1 Corinthians 10:13 and found that it is not referring to trials but to temptation.  When I was reading through this passage I thought my bubble had burst.  So does God give me more than I can handle as far as trials go?  I would think so, or I would never turn to Him for my strength, my footing, my everything.  I would solely use my own strength to get over that hurdle ahead of me.  I would be self reliant 24/7!  

Today was a visit day for Aly with her Mom.  Handing her over for two hours is the hardest thing that I have ever had to do.  After the visit the social worker informed me that the judge very well could give the birth mom another 6 months to get her act together.  Those are words that are not encouraging to someone who is completely in love with this little girl she is caring for!  As I drove home I began a running conversation with God.  Questioning our decision to open our hearts to such a high risk situation.  Questioning this process all together!  I am a stubborn woman and don't like to admit when I am wrong, but my heart was starting to fracture a bit.  I was asking God why we were dealing with the roller coaster of emotions.

I do believe that God gives us more than we can handle on our own.  I could not do this emotionally every week without the strength of His hand guiding me.  His voice telling me to love her completely.  His compassion showing me glimpses of progress in a tiny miracle. I have even heard Him say, "It is not up to you", as I left Aly for a visit.  He gives us the option to bail.  He gave us a free will to choose our path.  I could take the easy route and have a cookie cutter life with 2.5 children and all the American Dream has to offer, or I could purposefully and wholeheartedly give of myself.  Letting my heart break and in the process, experience growth and a deeper understanding of what it is like for our Creator.  

We are all called to the same purpose.  We are His to be molded, chipped at, melted down.  We are called to help the orphans and widows.  He never said it would be easy or quick.  I guess my question to other believers is this.  Am I choosing to live a life of comfort or a life of constant growth with self inflicted pain?  Note that these battles in my head with God are frequent and filled with doubt!  The bottom line is that we are here for something.

I was reading in the Psalms recently and found Psalm 143 to be very inspiring.  I was able to jot down a song (ignore the fact that I am an amateur writer).  The third verse is my favorite, followed by the chorus.

Teach me to give myself to You, completely

Humble my heart and show me Your way

With Your unfailing love silence my enemies

For I am Yours

This is for You

This is all for You

This is for You

I am here for You

Today was rough.  I felt sad, powerless, frustrated, injustice and a whole slew of other words that I will not elaborate on.  I know that my pain is allowing this little girl to have some stability. . . some unconditional love . . . some attachment . . . something that we can give for as long as we are given the opportunity.  I will survive this.  God will sustain me.