Objects not obstacles: A mothering confession

In the early hours of Monday morning, my husband returned from a four day trip to Colorado. At which point I droggily blew my stinky morning breath in his face, kissed him somewhere in the vicinity of his lips and then slumped back into my pillow, grateful to have my husband - and subsequently - my normal life back.

He left supremely early Thursday morning to catch at 6am flight. So, with the wonderful help of grandmas, I was a single parent for 4 entire days. It's not a job I'd like to apply for anytime soon.

Typically, when my husband gets an extended break and I do not, I have duel emotions. While I'm thrilled that he's getting some time to recharge, somewhere in the recesses of my selfish heart I face each day with a countdown mentality. Only 92 more hours and then he's back, sort of thing.

But somewhere around Friday morning, amid the chaos and the noise of all of these blessings, I felt myself having a supernatural amount of patience. I'm sure we've all had spurts of that at some point but for me anyway, it has never lasted more than a few hours and then I bottom out like a ship in shallow water at low tide. I ride the waves of selfishness until, finally, I blow up at the kids over something trivial like opening a box of crackers or refilling a sippy cup.

But not this past weekend. Granted, I had much help from my Mom and Grandmother, but even still I felt different. I felt peaceful, patient, kind and even, dare I say, joyful to have all seven kids all by myself.

Trust me when I say that this is not the norm for me, y'all. Sure, I enjoy my kids immensely. I love being home with them all day and schooling them. I love their quirks, the funny things they say and how they give and receive hugs and kisses freely.

But by 5:30pm, I'm ready for my husband to walk through the door.

On Sunday morning, I cheerfully arose early and got all seven kids dressed, fed, hair combed, snacks packed and loaded into the van. Alone. And we got to church early y'all.

Last Sunday is proof that the Lord still works miracles people. Not because we were early for church, per se, but more because I didn't lose my mind (or my religion) before we got there. Sometime on Sunday evening, I sat in bewilderment at how and why I'd had so much patience, joy and cheerfulness over a long four days of what could have been stressful, annoying and down right ugly.

I felt the Lord press on me a truth that nearly knocked me over.

You see your children as an obstacle to your mothering.

Um, excuse me God? What?! How can my kids be an obstacle to my mothering? They're the reason I'm a mother!

He whispered in my soul...

Really? So the frustration at spilled drinks, messes, bottoms to wipe, loud chatter, you don't see those as an obstacle? I think you do.


Yeah. I guess I do. The truth is, instead of expecting my children to be, well, children I expected them to be less hassle. I had this expectation in my mind of what I should look like a mother, what our children should look like and how our days should flow seamlessly and when reality didn't meet my expectations, I lost control.

Yelling, frustration, angry words, unkind redirection, quick to anger, slow to show mercy...that pretty much sums up my mothering over the last several months.

I was seeing our children as an obstacle to my mothering instead of the objects of my motherly love.

The same was true for homeschooling. We use Sonlight curriculum which involves lots of reading on my part, as the teacher. As I would read or teach, the children were constantly stopping me asking questions, making comments and just generally being inquisitive. It frustrated me beyond what it should.

I slowly began to realize that we homeschool so that our children can interrupt the lesson and ask questions and their education can take on a personal form that allows for their interests to be explored.

I was viewing my own children as an obstacle to my homeschooling instead of the object of my teaching.

Then, on Sunday evening I got the heartbreaking news of a dear friend losing her unborn son. As my heart cried out to God on her behalf, I realized even more how much I should be treasuring these children God has given me rather than viewing them as distractions and obstacles.

Truly, my mind has been so focused on accomplishing tasks, getting our schooling done and all the things that come with motherhood that I lost sight of what is really important. Having a large family means that lots of things must work in a specific way for laundry, meals and everyday life to run smoothly. But those specifics should never be exchanged for discipling my kids, in every moment showing love, mercy, compassion and a genuine interest in things they are interested in.

I need to cherish my children and all of the frustrations that come with them.

Are there going to be days ahead where I lose it, get frustrated and make mistakes? Of course. Should I have expectations of my children and set boundaries? Without a doubt! But I was focusing on the tasks and not the people, which should never be the case.

Before I know it, these treasures of mine will be grown and graduating college and moving out to accomplish the lives and tasks the Lord has set before them. And I will have the joy of watching them from the sidelines as they do wonderful things for the glory of God. Until then, teaching them to love each other, love the Lord, serve Him faithfully, cheerfully and obediently is my goal. I pray that I never again see them as obstacles to my goal but rather, the objects of it.

Dare to share?

I know it's been over two months since I've gotten back from Guinea-Bissau, West Africa. And I know the three, measly posts I've written about my 10 days on the other side of the world, hardly do it justice.

I've written this post in my mind at least a dozen times. In fact, I have two saved posts regarding this aspect of my trip, each of them containing 2 - 3 sentences and copious amounts of empty space.

I'm having this conflict within myself. Do I tell you all exactly what happened, laying out there the logistics of the supernatural experiences I had or do I just give you bits and pieces, palatable excerpts that I think the majority of our American Church culture can tolerate?

Because the truth is, y'all, I faced some serious stuff. Stuff that American Christians generally don't talk about. Stuff that we should talk about because it's real, but it invades on our comfortable American lives, making us uncomfortable with the fact that there really is a spiritual realm that for the most part we don't even acknowledge.

For those of you who are regular readers, honestly, I think you can handle it. But my worry is that anyone new stumbling by may read that post and go, "Woah. This Christian lady is whack. Thanks but no thanks, Jesus." Then click away, even more turned off from the Christian faith.

But the truth is, Paul didn't hold back. Neither did John in writing Revelation. I'd wager a guess to say that none of the authors of the Bible held back the truth. And while I am certainly not putting myself in the same boat as the authors of the Bible I do know that God revealed specific truths to me about the Spiritual realm. In fact, He didn't just reveal it to ME, he revealed it to my friend Wendi and the others on our trip as well.

But, on the flip side, I don't want to give myself that much credit. The truth is, if the Lord desires to draw someone to himself, how arrogant of me to think that if they read one of my blog posts that they'd be turned away for good! I'm not that important.

So I guess what I want to know is:

Do you want me to lay it out there?

It's heavy stuff, y'all. And I don't tell about it lightly. I've only shared it with specific people. But it is truth. And not just truth from my perspective, but truth as confirmed in Scripture. The spiritual realm is all around us and God brought it to the forefront of my life while I was half a world away from everything and everyone I loved. I'm not talking about fat, fluffy angels with harps and bow and arrows. I'm talking darkness.

Do you think this is the space to share that? If so, why? If NOT, why? I value your input so much.

The taboo topic of being an angry Mom

I love my life. Really I do. I love being a mother to all these kids and the dirty house that comes with them. I love that having these people means that my sink is always full of dirty dishes and sometimes I don't get to shower.

I love them so much that if I dwell on it for long enough I will cry rivers of tears.

I love them so very much.

But, you know what? There's another side to being a Mom that no one ever talks about. When I wrote this post, several of you agreed that you have struggles. Several of you admitted insecurities and realities that you face in this role we are blessed by.

And, I think, part of being Radical is being honest with right where I am. Because like I told my friend Wendi a long while back during a play date, "I think that being radical means allowing God to push you out of your comfort zone so that where your ability ends, His can begin and therefore He gets all the glory."

And what I'm going to share with you today is certainly out of my comfort zone. But, I feel like I'm not being totally honest if I keep these emotions inside me and pretend as though they don't exist.

I realize that by writing what will follow, I'm probably going to get some (more) sideways glances at church, some of you may even question my emotional stability.

Truthfully, I'm okay. I'm awesome, actually.

Maybe you'll think less of me after reading this post. I mean, afterall, we're going to be missonaries, we should have it all together, right?

Wrong.

What I'm going to write is the truth. It's how I feel somedays.

Not every day. But some.

Usually after a night of little-to-no-sleep. Usually after (or during) an incredibly challenging day. Usually when I'm at my wit's end with a behavior from a certain precious child who will not stop throwing her food on the floor or after a sweet little boy throws his 4th tantrum in 30 minutes.

Or when I wonder why in the world God saw fit to give me, virtually, two sets of twins so that I could deal with negative, age-appropriate behaviors in two scoop helpings and it's almost more than I can deal with to say it twice, twice in 10 seconds to two different people because copy cat #2 felt the need to mimic copy cat #1's nasty behavior even though #1 just got a consequence.

It's those times that something washes over me and I realize that something else it taking a hold of me. Something that could have such a grip on me that I could understand why people slip into the recesses of the unspeakable.

It's nasty and I'm not proud of it.

Anger.

Not a flippant passing aggravation that makes me want to turn on cartoons for the next 2 hours and pray my children focus on the TV so I have some friggin' peace and quiet.

Real anger. Anger that makes me wonder who I am and how I got all these kids and if I really knew what I was doing, or better, if God knew what He was doing when he handed me these blessings because I'm seriously about to flip out on them.

Anger that causes me to drag my child to his (or her) bedroom while (s)he's kicking and screaming and wailing at the top of his lungs and then gingerly sliding him in and closing the door behind him. Anger that makes me stand at that same door and hold it shut while my child tries to pull it open because if we were to have another interaction right then, it would not be pretty.

Anger because it's meal time again and again we are having a battle of the wills over whether or not he will eat the food I've prepared. Food he likes but is currently rejecting because he apparently doesn't care if he eats today. So he sits and scowls at me from underneath furrowed eyebrows, rejecting all of the food on his plate because I dared to put a tiny bit of something green on the same surface as the rest of his food. Or, rejecting it because he threw a fit 10 minutes ago and consequence of a toy being taken away is still fresh in his mind.

Anger because, again, they've woken/disturbed/upset an otherwise peaceful baby, again, and so now, again, I must drop everything and console the (what would have been a content) baby because a brother or sister couldn't keep their hands to themselves. So lunch will take 45 minutes to prepare rather than 20 minutes which means that everyone will be so hungry and cranky by the time I finally get lunch on the table that fights will ensue and food will be flung and I will lose my cool. Again.

But as a Mom (or a Dad) it's taboo to talk about that kind of anger, isn't it? Because in our politically correct culture, if you actually talk about being angry at your kid then someone will surely call Social Services on you and they'll take your kids and put you in a 6 week anger management program.

We used to be foster parents. We are familiar with the programs for parents who have abused and neglected their kids. They are needed. They are a genuine route to recovery for the parents who actually have habitual anger management issues.

But, am I really "managing" my anger if I choose not to discuss it? And, in choosing to shove it to the recesses of my heart, am I allowing those emotions the attention that's needed to deal with them appropriately? If I've found out anything in my short time as a mother it's true that, "If I'm feeling/experiencing/struggling with something, chances are someone else is/has/will too." But all too often we take topics that are taboo and shove them to the deep dark corners of our hearts and pray that they don't surface when anyone else is around.

Because if anyone knew that you really felt that way then surely they'd think less of you, or wonder why you chose to have so many kids or be a stay at home mom or blah, blah, blah...

I'm tired of reading blogs and being around people who claim they never lose it and paint the picture of their perfect life. I lose it. Not everyday. Sometimes I make it a whole week. But I lose it. Often.

Why is it so taboo to talk about less-than-rosey-lovey-dovey feelings for your kids? Why is it unacceptable to say, "Somedays, I don't like my kid. In fact, some days when I hear them waking up from naps, I get frustrated with them for no reason."

I feel that way. Sometimes. And while I'm not advocating that anyone should ever discipline while they are in the throws of anger nor am I saying that anyone who has habitual anger or depression issues should never seek counseling.

What I am saying that these feelings are real and I feel them. Not everyday. But sometimes.

I get angry with my kids. I get tired or I don't spend enough time in the Word and the anger washes over me before I realize what's happening. And then I beg my kids and the Lord for forgiveness.

I will end with saying that I've had the majority of this post written and saved in my drafts since May of 2010. Not because it's not true, but because I was afraid of the backlash I'd receive by posting it. But if I'm honest with myself and deny that I don't struggle with occasional anger issues then I'm not being truthful with myself. And again, I believe that if I'm feeling these emotions of motherhood, surely other mothers feel the same way as well.

In the 8 months since this was originally drafted, I've prayed for the Lord to take away my anger, to help me pass it over to Him when I feel it welling up within me. But I've found that my ability to pass it over to Him is directly related to the amount of time I spend in fellowship with the Lord. When I get slack and don't make time with Him a priority, the enemy uses my tired brain as a short fuse to spark the fire of my anger.

So I confess. I sometimes struggle with anger. Do you? If not, what do you struggle with that's Taboo among Mommy and Christian circles? I'd be willing to bet, that more times that not, other Moms are struggling as well.

I want to leave you with a verse I found nearly 3 years ago and that has stuck with me and I have claimed as my life verse:

Not that I have already obtained this (righteousness) or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

(Philippians 3:12-14 ESV)

I'm praying for each of you reading this, that you will press on through the ugliness that plagues your heart, strain toward King Jesus and move forward to a place of repentance and healing. I'm praying that for myself too.

An apology

I feel like I owe you guys a deep apology.

While I was searching the "archives" for my last post, I came across this post. The sting of my words in this post made me hang my head in shame. Over the last several days, the Lord has convicted and gently spoken to me about the tone and the words of that post. And y'all, I'm just so very sorry.

While there is truth in that post, the curtness and the coldness with which I wrote was uncalled for an, truly, unacceptable.

Yes, I felt those things. But the Lord is showing me that just because I feel something, and even if it is a valid feeling, that doesn't give me the right to spew hatred and anger. While this post may not have offended you and though while my feelings and emotions were real the Lord is pressing me to rethink how I sounded. I feel very led to apologize publically, most specifically over my comments on Questions 3 & 4.

So I pray that you will accept any offense I may have given you all over this post. And maybe it didn't offend any of you and this is just another piece of humility pie the Lord is asking me to eat. He's been dealing with me deeply in the area of pride so I won't be surprised if that's the case. Either way, thank you all for receiving what I say here with a spirit of grace. Thank you for allowing me to be real, honest, blunt and open. Thank you for standing with us in prayer as we walk through difficult trials and as we've emerged stronger and more in tune with the will of God on the other side.

As we continue this journey that God has us on, I know that having you all at our side, praying for us, encouraging us and asking us tough questions will prove to be invaluable.

Thank you.

Depression Hurts

I am putting off cleaning my grody-pachody house because I feel the need to tell you all a few things.

1) I am feeling MUCH better. Thank you for your outpouring of support over this post. It was the first time I've actually be afraid to share myself, and you guys proved yourselves worthy of getting the truth ALL the time, like it or not. I appreciate the support, even when you didn't sometimes "get" me.

2) Thank you for reaching out to me via text messages, comments, emails and phone calls. I have never felt more cared for by a group of friends and it was just what I needed.

3) I have no doubt that the funk I was in for the last week and a half was, in fact, depression. Temporary depression, but depression nonetheless.

Knowing that, I feel compelled to share with you exactly what I was feeling. Not to make anyone feel guilty or sad, but because it was like nothing I had ever in my life felt. It was hard, and icky and painful, and I know there are thousands, if not millions, of people who feel that way every day. And yet, most of those people live their lives, day after day, with that load upon them. I cannot imagine such. 1.5 weeks was almost more than I could take.

I'm not sure what triggered my depression, probably just a culmination of many, many things. I have made friends with a new woman and her day to day living just breaks my heart on so many levels. Add that to the stress of just normal life, coupled with some disappointing discoveries and it just settled on me before I realized what was happening.

At first I thought it was just "Aunt Flo" coming for a visit. I usually get moody and cranky a few days before and it just bugs the crap out of me that I cannot control myself better than I do. Therefore, I began beating myself up over not being able to control my emotions toward my husband and my kids. I was angry, very angry and I could not hide it.

Then, I realized that I wasn't spending enough time in The Word. So, I set out to read some scripture, anything really, just to be in the word. However, I could not focus. I couldn't sit and read anything (not even blogs - which is HUGE for me people!) for more than a few minutes. I would read the same 3 or 4 words over and over and over again, yet not be able to remember what they were. I became frustrated with my "lack of love for God" and slammed by Bible shut. I continued to beat myself up over every little thing.

It wasn't long before I had dug myself a little hole and jumped right in. Everything I did hung on me like a wet blanket.
The kids were fighting with each other - therefore I must be an awful mother.
Luke got frustrated with the pile of dishes and laundry - I must be a horrible wife.
Friends weren't calling or inviting me out to dinner - I must a backstabbing, no good friend.
God wasn't hearing my casual prayers to bring me out of this pit - I must not really be important to Him.

Everything, I'm telling you, everything hung on me and I couldn't shake myself free. It felt as though I was standing in the bottom of a very deep pit, looking up at the people standing around the rim. I knew that if I could only get their attention, then they could help pull me out. The problem was that I didn't know what to say, I wasn't sure they'd understand and I didn't quite know how to get to them. So, I just sat there.

I felt lonely. Afraid. Sad. Tearful. Betrayed. Angry. Hurt. Selfish. Worthless.

If I died, would anyone even care? How easily/quickly would I be replaced? (I did not think about killing myself - just FYI - but I hear that many people suffering from depression do.)

I mean, what kind of person cannot just shake these feelings? What kind of person slips, so quickly, into this hole and cannot get out. So then, came the blame.

"STOP IT, JESSICA! Stop being so stupid! Get over yourself!" These thoughts echoed through my brain. Satan saw a foothold and took advantage.

"If people really loved you, if they really knew you, they'd come and help. If God really loved you, he'd pull you out. You're just not that important." The Enemy's whispers pushed me further into the pit.

Looking back, I can see how quickly I spiraled out of control. Keep in mind, all of this happened in a MATTER OF DAYS. Even still, I cannot believe that I felt so lost that I could not even form the words to speak to my own husband.

The only thing that I understand, the only thing I can assume pulled me out, was prayer. I finally broke down and told my BFF how I felt. She said she would pray. Then, another friend called after my post and prayed with me on the phone. By opening up and allowing myself to be vulnerable, I came through.

However, I know that there are many people who have been dealing with depression for YEARS. I cannot imagine the hopelessness they must feel, the burden, the sadness. Depression is a lonely, lonely place. I pray, with my whole heart, that if you are experiencing this that you will open up to someone, ANYONE and share your struggle.

A week and a half seemed like a month of torture. Please feel free to comment on this blog (I will open anonymous comments) or email me (beaverbunch (at) gmail . com) if you find yourself in a pit. Or, talk to your Doctor, or a trusted friend (which I know sounds ridiculous becasue you probably don't know who that person is).

The despair is lifted and the burden is gone. Thank you all for allowing me to be real, personal and free. Thank you. Thank you.

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
Psalm 112:1-2

In my distress I called to the LORD;
I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came before him, into his ears.
Psalm 18:6

Keep It To Yourself

I'm actually writing this post shortly after my last one, while bottles and dishes soak in the sink. After claiming I had nothing on my mind, these popped in and refused to go away. Therefore, I decided to sit back down, write them out and schedule this post to publish early tomorrow morning (Saturday).

If you've made one of these comments or asked one of these questions, don't be offended. But, I'm so freakin' sick of hearing them that I thought I'd give my usual response/answer to each of them, and along with it, say what's really going through my head.

**Warning, if you're easily offended, you might wanna stop now. If you have to stop and wonder if you're easily offended, you probably are....no offense ;) **

**It's probably also not terribly kid friendly. I'm pretty blunt. Parental discretion is advised.*** (haha)

Comments and Questions I'm SICK Of Hearing

Question 1. Wow! You really have your hands full! (Usually said by people who only have 1 kid).

Usual response: Actually, I have really awesome kids and they are usually a lot of fun to be around. I feel incredibly blessed.

What I would like to say: Yes, I do have a lot on my plate. However, your presumption that my "hands are full" indicates to me that you have already assessed my ability to do my job. Yes, this is my job. I am a full-time maid, chef, chauffeur, nanny, wife and mother (plus a few I'm sure I'm forgetting). I'm sorry that YOU feel you would be unable to do this, but during this season of my life, I feel that I am doing exactly what God has called me to do. My hands are not "full" they are overflowing with God's blessings. I wish you liked your kids as much as I do mine.

Question 2: Did his parents not want him? (spoken about Baby D, usually in his presence)

Usual response: They are still working a plan to reunify. I am unable to discuss details.

What I would like to say: Do you really think I would tell you, especially after asking in that manner? I mean, first of all, please do not talk about MY child like he is disposable, especially right in front of him. I realize that you do not think that he understands. However, getting accustomed to speaking negatively about him or his parents in his presence is not something I am willing to do. He is a precious, innocent, beautiful child, created for a purpose by God. He is desired as a member of our family and we will love him as such until we are told not to.

Question 3: How in the world will you ever give him back?
Usually followed by: I could never be a foster parent, I'd get too attached.

Usual response: God clearly led us into being foster parents. If He chooses for him to leave us, God will also help us through that process as well. (I'm usually silent regarding the second comment.)

What I'd like to say: My prayer is that I will never have to give him back. However, since God made it ABUNDANTLY obvious of His desire for us to becoming foster parents, we chose to be obedient. It was not a decisions we made overnight or spontaneously. I believe that because of God's great mercy, love and faithfulness, IF He reunifies Baby D with his birth family, God will also lead us through the emotions that would accompany that.

In light of your second comment about never being able to foster. Well, I think that if you claim you could "never" do something, you're speaking more about your belief in God than your abilities as a human. Luke and I are not super-parents. We did not have an exponential amount of love just lying around that we were not already using so we flippantly decided to add to our quiver. This is a God sized thing. We cannot do this alone. We believe that our God can work through us to accomplish things that we could not do ordinarily on our own. If you do not think God can use you in that way, I would challenge you to examine your relationship with Him. It may not be all you think it is.

Question 4: So, are ya'll done having kids? or So, you're done now, right? or Wow! Don't you know how that happens? (referencing baby making)

Usual response: Probably not. We'll just have to see what God has in store for us. (I usually just roll my eyes at the last question.)

What I'd like to say: I'm incredibly sorry that you don't enjoy your kids as much as I enjoy mine. Yes, I lay down each night exhausted. Yes, I have a lot of people to take care of each day. However, I do not see them as a burden. They are my joy. A pure gift from God. While I recognize that not everyone is called to be a parent to lots of children, the tone in which you asked indicated that you are unhappy with the children God already gave you. I think prayer and a sincere, open conversation with God would do you some good. And, you might wanna get to know your kids. They're probably a lot cooler than you give them credit for.

Yes, I know how "it happens." My husband is incredibly hot. I cannot keep my hands off him. I'm sorry you are not attracted to your spouse.

Question 5: When do you ever have time for the things YOU want to do?

Usual response: Luke and I find some time to spend independently and together. It's not a lot but it's good enough for now.

What I'd like to say: Yes, I have minimal alone/personal time. However, at this season of my life, God has not called me to be selfish. Being a parent means being selfLESS. I would much rather pour my time into raising caring, capable, God fearing kids, than be off by myself whilst hoping that my kids turn out okay. When my kids are gone and our house is empty we will find time to travel, read and knit (okay maybe not). Right now, I enjoy my kids because this time in their lives is so very brief. I'm sorry you don't want to spend time with your kids, as a family. It's really a lot of fun. Exhausting, but fun.

Question 6: Aren't your OWN kids jealous of him? ("him" being Baby D)

Usual response: They are really good with him. They love him like he's ours, just like we do.

What I'd like to say: Actually, our kids are crazy about him. They probably love him more than we do (okay, maybe not). Aside from that, he IS OUR KID. We don't differentiate between "ours" and "not ours." I could understand if you asked me how they were adjusting, but to assume that we make clear differences between the 4 children in our home is to assume that we are not loving this child with all our capabilities. I'm sorry if you feel that you do not have enough love to go around. Maybe you need more Jesus in your life.

Question 7: Now, which one isn't yours? or Which one is the orphan? or someone who already knows our situation points out to someone else That one is the foster baby! in front of all of our children.

Usual response: We are keeping the baby until a permanent placement is made. (If they can't figure out which one is the "baby" then they have bigger issues).

What I'd like to say: They all are "ours." We do not differentiate between "ours" and "not ours" just like God's love does not apply to "saved" and "not saved." He loves everyone regardless of their position. While we may struggle to love all people, the children in our home are loved as equally as humanly possible. None of them are orphans because each of them has a loving mother and father. I'm sorry that you have abandonment issues and/or feel the need to clearly isolate others.

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While I know that I maybe hypersensitive to these questions and comments, I also realize that many people are oblivious to the hurtful comments and tones that they use. We desire to love Baby D as if he is our child by birth and, with a few exceptions that we cannot control, we plan to do so until further notice. Once more, I am not trying to be offensive, but sometimes outsiders are oblivious. I do not mind answering questions, most of the time, as long as the person's heart reflects genuine interest, love and a desire to be uplifting. Sometimes, this is clearly NOT the case. It's offensive to me, hurtful and mostly, just rude. I try to view their questions in light of how I used to perceive things, before we were foster parents. I don't think I was that rude.

I remember very vividly about 2 years ago, being in the toddler class at our church. At our church, there is another family who used to foster but have since adopted out. As I sat there with 2 childcare workers, I listened to the conversation these women were having about 2 of the children in this family (that were also in the room). One child was theirs by birth, the other via adoption. Coincidentally, they are only months apart in age. These women sat there and openly discussed which was "really theirs" and which "was the crack baby." How hurtful! I know that these kids were not even 2 years old yet, but can you imagine having to go through life with that label? I pray for this family often.

I also pray, that if the Lord let's us keep Baby D, that outsiders will not continue to label him as an orphan, a foster baby or any other name that provokes feelings of negativity. I pray that others will become aware of their hurtful words and acknowledge that it is by God's grace that THEY are saved and it is by that same grace that God pulled this precious child out of a horrible situation and placed him into our family. I pray that God will bring into the light phrases and comments that I make that are hurtful and help me to see the error of my ways.

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.
~ Psalm 139:23-24