Rollercoaster

I just received a call from our caseworker saying that Mya's hearing is this morning.  She could be back with us by this evening.  Please remember our family in your prayers today.

How do we as foster parents endure this rollercoaster of emotions?   I think it's because that same heart, that aches within each of us, tells us we must.

Why Can't We Be Friends?

I love this video!  It made me cry...it took me back to the struggle we had with CYS after Mya had been with us almost 6 months.  They tried to take her out of our home so that she could live in a more "ethnic" neighborhood.  I was devastated!  How could they think that taking her away from the family she loved and felt safe with was the best thing for her?  Our first thought was, "What can we do?  We have no rights yet as foster parents."  I felt like David fighting Goliath...how could we win and protect Mya from losing more people who loved her?  Well, I will just say that I did do something.  In fact, I did everything I possibly could to keep Mya in our home.  (Anyone who would like to know details can email me.)  The day before Mya was supposed to go to the new home, the judge court-ordered Mya to stay in our home.  David had slayed Goliath once again.

Why does this world insist on categorizing us by the way we look, speak or where we come from?  Why do we think that because someone looks differently from us that we don't belong together or that we don't feel the same?  Having said this, when our family looked at Mya, we didn't pretend that she looked the same as us.  We acknowledged that she had different colored hair, eyes and skin from us just like we acknowledged and celebrated the many other differences that make up who we are.  We didn't love her "even though" she was an African American/Mexican/Irish/German girl but because she was all those things and so much more.  She loved to sing and dance...to play...to laugh...and she gave the best hugs and kisses!

I learned so much from Mya.  It doesn't matter what neighborhood we grow up in, what color our skin is, what clothes we wear or how we speak.  It is how we feel and how we love that connects us.

Life Goes On...

With each passing day I find the most difficult part of Mya leaving is the lack of closure.  She was asleep when we left her in her new home and I don't feel like we were able to really explain things to her so she could understand.  Even now I still hope and wonder if she will come back home to us.  At what point do I move on, not just physically, but emotionally.

I keep myself busy.  The kids have baseball, volleyball, track and church activities.  I've even taken up canning and we're planning a garden for this summer.  Soon it will be time to open the pool, mow the lawn and plant flowers.  My life continues as if Mya were never a part of it.  But my mind pushes out thoughts of her and my heart aches reminding me that she was and is a part of my life.

One Big Family

I did mention that our children's last name was the same as some people we went to church with, right?  We had spent some time wondering if they were related and how they might be related.  We didn't have to wonder for very long.

Our first Sunday was so exciting for me.  There is just something special about being able to go to church with your family and this was the first time our family included children.  We drove into the church parking lot and almost right away Emily said, "I've been here before with my Grandma!  There's her car!"  We walked into the chapel and their biological relatives (three pews full) all turned to look at us.

After the meeting, our children's great-grandparents told us they knew the children were going to be going into foster care and that they had been praying they would go to a good home.  They told us how God had answered their prayers and how happy they were that the children were with us.

When I heard this, I was overwhelmed by how much our Heavenly Father loves us and amazed by the miracles he sends us.  We knew then why we had to move to Pittsburgh, why we decided to buy a home in Beaver County, why we had become foster parents.  God knew all along that they were our children just waiting for us to come for them.