Where am I going next?

Halloween was one of my favorite days that we've lived over the past 7 months. I, like lots of girls, have dreamed of dressing up my kids one day in adorable costumes, teaching them to trick or treat, and eating their candy after they go to bed (don't lie--you've thought about it too). When I realized that we would have not one, but three babies on Halloween I just knew we had to do a family theme for our costumes. Cheesy, I know. But they're only little once and by next year my submissive three year old may be a very opinionated 4 year old who doesn't want to join in on family themed costumes. So, we went with our sweet girl's favorite movie The Wizard of Oz and had so much fun seeing the excitement on her face and hearing her tiny voice excitedly say "Trick or trivet!!" To all of our neighbors. I know all of the child specialists would tell me to correct her mispronunciation, but I prefer to enjoy her little sayings at the moment. 

Dorothy, the Yellow Brick Road, the Lion, the Scarecrow, and the Tinman.

Dorothy and the Lion loved riding in the wagon around the neighborhood. Sister kept up with the candy for brother :)

We had a wonderful time trick or treating, taking a thousand pictures, visiting the outdoor church party for a whole 20 minutes because of the freezing temperatures, and then coming home to check out all of sister's candy. A little conversation about candy, the Halloween day events, and costumes brought up a question neither Nathan, nor I, anticipated.

I made a comment about sister keeping her Dorothy costume in her dress up bucket so that she could keep it and play dress up with it as often as she wanted. This triggered a memory in her mind about playing dress up at her previous foster home. As she told us about it, we used it as an opportunity to talk about the events of her life over the last seven months like we always do, hoping to instill in her an understanding of her life little by little. But this conversation took an interesting turn when we mentioned how she used to live at the other house,  but now she lives at our house. Her response? "Where am I going next?"

Where am I going next?

She didn't say it in a sad, angry, scared, or frustrated way. She had the biggest smile on her face after talking about costumes and Halloween and said it with sweet curiosity. But it stood out to us and stopped us in our tracks. Thinking about her previous home and the home she has now, it made sense in her mind to wonder which house would be her next home. We immediately explained that she wouldn't be going anywhere else next, that she was here forever, and that she would always be our little girl. She smiled and moved right along without missing a beat. I, however, still haven't moved on from that question. It has lingered in my mind and continued to roll around in my brain ever since.

Let me explain something: sister has only lived in two homes since coming into foster care--the home she lived in when she came into care and ours. She has had unprecedented stability, love, support, and care while in the system. Her first foster family is amazing and took care of her in ways that helped her catch up in all areas of her life that she was lacking. She has been in one of the best foster situations that I've ever heard of and hasn't had to endure traumatic experiences like many have because of her age and the fantastic placement she had when she was taken into care. Knowing that, it is interesting to me that she would ask a question more profound than she even realizes. That she would think she has to go somewhere else next after only moving once (that she remembers) and receiving so much love. She still wonders. It is engrained in her.

Realizing this led me to wonder: if my very happy, very loved, very stable, very young daughter who has only had uplifting experiences since being in foster care wonders where she's going next, how much more does an older child (even a year older) from harsher lifestyles who has bounced around from house to house wonder this same thing? Where am I going next? How much more do these kids live every day only partially accepting where they are as home? How much fear and anxiety do they carry around every moment just waiting to hear what their next move may be or next hurdle is to jump? The possibility (and reality) of how massive this thought process can be for some of these kids completely blows my mind and is unimaginable.

So as this year comes to a close, as you reflect on 2014, prepare for 2015, and set goals for the coming year, I ask that you consider this: what can you do to help a child that asks the question "where am I going next?" I pray that you would consider opening your home to one of them. That you would look into fostering or adopting and not run away like I did for a whole year. If you are unable to open your home because of other circumstances going on in your life then I pray that you would seek out opportunities to be involved. Become certified for respite care (babysitting), volunteer for some of our local organizations who are passionate about serving our kids, donate funds to help support these children, or dedicate yourself to pray for them. Because whether they are in the best situation or the worst, they all wonder: Where am I going next?

Before the Beauty

Tonight I had the joy and privilege of watching my little blonde hair, blue eyed princess jump and spin, twirl and prance, and giggle through an hour of dance class. Her little three year old self could not be more adorable when it comes to this dance class. When I reminded her this morning that it was dance class Monday, she simply responded, "But I already did that yesterday (which is her way of saying last week)." Who knew she'd be perfectly content with just going to one class?? So of course she was pretty surprised and excited to get to go back again. She doesn't know what she's doing all of the time, but she is an amazing type A rule follower, so she sticks with the teacher. Her attempt at a forward roll is the highlight of the gymnastics portion of the class and always leaves us at the edge of our seats wondering if she's going to make it over this time! To see her run and laugh and smile from ear to ear is one of the most beautiful moments of our Monday's.

After we got home it was down to business with bath time, bottles, jammies, bedtime stories, and goodnight kisses for three little babies. Nathan and I have figured out a pretty good system for these nightly routines and if we time it right we can usually squeeze in some one-on-one time with either of our two big kids before they're off to bed. Tonight I got to rock my big little man while he had his bedtime bottle. This is quite a treat for me considering that he has gotten so big so fast and rarely wants to sit still for any amount of time. But tonight he let me rock him and he so sweetly stared at me right in the eyes. His big blue eyes just stared and stared and his chubby little hand waved in the air to catch a piece of my hair that was hanging down. I would have loved to have rocked him all night long.

It was both of these moments combined with seeing pictures and hearing stories of other children like my own that got me to thinking about this thing that you've heard us talk about so much lately: adoption. 

In our home adoption is a beautiful thing. We have looked forward to it with such hope and anticipation. It has brought us two of our beautiful children along with many happy moments that will live on in my memory forever. It has formed our family, it has transformed our family, and it has blessed us more than I could ever describe in words. But have you ever thought about adoption before the beauty? Before the hype, the excitement, the new family, the new names, the celebration? Before the new memories, the growing relationships, and the new normal? Before the beauty there was destruction.

This was a reoccurring thought to me tonight as I cherished the looks, laughs, and precious moments with my babies. In order to get to where we are now, my kids had to experience the destruction of their original family. They don't remember it and never will because of their young age, but it happened nonetheless. Somewhere along the way something went wrong and the life they were born into crumbled and ceased to exist. They were pulled from a family, placed in a new family, and in 29 days will officially be given new names that carry with them a completely new life. For so long I have looked forward to that day with excitement that could not be contained. But tonight I have felt a different emotion: sadness. Sadness for a man and a woman who brought my children into this world but will never be mom and dad to them. They will never see the clumsy forward roll that my little girl stumbles through in gymnastics class. They will never see the look of amazement when she hears the sounds that come from her tap shoes. They will never get to ew and aw over her twirls in her pink frilly ballet skirt. They will never get to stare into the beautiful blue eyes of my baby boy. Or see him crawl across the floor like a big boy. They will never get to feel the heartwarming joy of watching the bond these two have even at a young age. They've lost all of these things. Forever. They'll never get them back. And they will never fully grasp all that they have lost.

Tonight my heart hurts for the destruction that comes before the beauty. For the loss that comes before the gain. Because somewhere out there these people exist. They're missing the beauty. They're missing the moments that I am cherishing. And that is heartbreaking.

Can I ask you to pray for them? Can I beg you to pray for those who have not yet lost custody of their children, but could be close? Would you consider lifting up those who are working to change their lives in order to bring their babies back home? We can be very quick to judge these situations. I always have been. But these are real people, real kids, and real lives at stake. Pray for redemption. Pray for healing. Pray that the destruction will be overcome.

 I am thankful that God makes all things beautiful. He has given me two amazing children through the beauty of adoption. But there are those out there who may not ever have to experience what comes before the beauty if we would simply pray that God almighty would rescue them from themselves.