Turning Seven!

My smallest boy is turning seven this Father’s Day.  We decided to have a few friends over and go to the park.  You would think that was a normal and even nice thing for a mother to do, wouldn’t you?  So we are in the car with friends filling the seats and he opens a gift his friend gave him.  He received a nice tape measure and a pair of working gloves.  After looking at the generous gift he replied, “I like the tape measure, but I don’t like the gloves.”  Which I immediately retorted, “Caleb Joshua Reginato (he knew he was in trouble by the use of the middle name), “you tell your friend thank you.”  And I proceeded to tell the six year old sitting next to him that, in fact, Caleb loved the gloves and would use them all the time. To which the little girl just stared at me with a blank face. 

We went to the park and had a lovely time, but when we got back home (the friends still with us), Caleb decided to ask the neighbor boy over to play games and have cake.  After the games were over, they all retired to Caleb’s room to play house.  They all were trying to fit into the closet ( I think they were using it for a bunk bed with one child on the floor of the closet and two others on the top shelf) when Caleb told his neighbor friend to leave his room because he wanted to play alone with his other friends.  I only found out about this because the little guy walked right past me in the kitchen, looking like he might cry.  So I marched into the closet and demanded to know what happened.  I was told the sad story and immediately had Caleb go apologize to his friend, which he did.

After all the kids went home, I asked Caleb if he had a good time at his party.  He said, “No, not really.” 

Isn’t that exactly how we are? 

We half heartedly accept gifts from God.

We are thankless for the wrapped treasures he places in our hands.

We love self more than others.

And it causes us to lose our joy.

What I get to share with my almost seven year old is that God’s mercy is new every morning.  That we get a do-over and we can start fresh by the power of His love. 

We can begin tomorrow with a renewed awe of the gifts we have been lavishly given.

We can excitedly unwrap even the smallest, precious treasures He gently places in our hands.

We can mend relationships and ask for forgiveness. And love others more than ourselves!

We can find our joy!

I asked my son before bedtime tonight if he could have done anything differently today.  He said, “I could have not been rude to my friend.”

Good job, son.

 Maybe seven won’t be so bad after all! 

My Story Part 8

I hate her!!! That was all could say about our first foster son’s birth mom.  How could a woman neglect her own child? How could a mother choose drugs over her kids?  I was appalled at the lack of love that this birth mother had for her son. And believe me when I say that the feeling was mutual.  She hated me.  She hated that her son was calling me mom. She hated that I got to take care of him and love him and feed him every day.  But you really can’t blame me, can you?  I was in this for the sweet child in our care.  To show him the love of God and to pray protection over his precious heart.  Why would I want to care for his neglectful mother?  She chose the life she was living and her son had no choice in the matter.  He had to go along for the ride. 

This hatred ran cold in my veins.  I truly couldn’t stand this woman. I wanted nothing to do with her.  But God had other plans.  One day I was on my knees praying about my anger.  Not that God would forgive me for it, but that He would strike her with lightening or make her leave the country.  As I was praying and looking out my living room window, it started to rain.  Now up until then it was a bit cloudy.  But as I talked to God about this woman, it began to pour.  Not just rain, but the floodgates of heaven opened and it gushed down like a waterfall.  It wasn’t peaceful and beautiful.  It was a torrent of rage being poured onto the earth.  And at that moment, God spoke to my heart so clearly, that I nearly fell on my face in His presence.  He said that He was even angrier than I was over the pain of this child.  That He would take of it and I was to leave the punishment to Him.  And lastly, I was to love her.  Love her?  Did I hear that right?  You are kidding me God, right?  No reply came.  I was summoned to love a woman I hated.  I knew better than to deny God.  So I began calling her and asking about her life.  I started to pray for her.  And my heart began to soften.  I asked her if I could pray for her and soon was praying with her.  And she desperately wanted to be loved.  I only wanted to do foster care to love the child.  But here was a grown up child who needed the same love.  When I found out about her past and all she had been through, I grieved for this woman.  And God gave me a piece of His heart.  This mother was also hurt and abused and unloved.  She was just in a bigger body than her son.  I eventually fell in love with this woman.  I wanted nothing more for her to get her son back and live a healthy life.  I eventually asked her if she wanted to give her life over to the true Healer. 

  She became a Christian and my husband baptized her at our church.  She eventually got her son back.  I was torn.  I loved this boy with all of my heart.  But I knew where he belonged. We had to take our sweet boy and drop him off at a drug treatment center where his mom lived.  We had loved him for over a year.  As I handed this child over to his mom, my heart ached.  I would never again hold him.  Never tuck him in at night.  I would never again hear the word “mom” come out of his mouth again.  As we left the treatment center, we were in deep grief.  But as we drove, we both felt the Spirit of God in the car with us. He lifted us out of our sorrow and gave us hope.  We began singing along to praise music we had in our car and praising God for allowing us the honor of seeing a family put back together.  And it hit me!  We could love the child.  But what if we loved the birth mom too?  What if God could heal the child’s mother?  Then generations are forever changed.  This foster child would have a healed mother.  Families would be restored.  The chain of sin broken!  We decided in that car ride home that we would be resolved to love not only future foster kids, but to love their moms as well.  This was a seed that years later would become The Refuge.  A seed that was planted deep in my soul.  Freedom!  These moms and kids needed to be set free.  I knew just the person to do the job! Yes!