My Story Part 7

Ugh! Not sure why I’m telling my story.  It was a good idea in the beginning, but it brings up such heart ache in my soul.  To be honest, I have never told anyone (except my hubby) all about my childhood illness and all the shame that went with it.  I have felt so vulnerable and sometimes I just wanna quit!  But somehow when I write it all out, it brings healing and restoration in some deep seeded areas of my heart.  Areas I didn’t even know I needed healing.  Ok…done with the “feeling sorry for myself” rant.  Here it goes….

So you may or may not be wondering how shame played out for me as a mom.  I was actively pursuing counseling and God by this time.  I was never going to give up until I was healed.  As I look back now, I think shame played out in not feeling like I was a good mother.  I loved my son more than life itself.  But I just couldn’t get the mom thing down.  So I began looking to my friends to teach me.  I learned so many things watching my friends be moms. The good, the bad and the really ugly!  I enjoyed being home with Nathan and he was a joy filled, happy boy. 

As I began a love affair with God, I fell deeper in love with Him every day.  He showed me how to forgive, to love and show grace to myself and others.  I couldn’t get enough of Bible study and I prayed all the time.  We started a Bible study in our home with other young couples. God was so real in my life.  When Nathan was 6 months old, we decided to become foster parents.  It is one of the first times I felt a real calling by God.  Listen to the story…..

Dave and I both felt really called to reach out to the lost world and make an impact for Christ.  And we also knew that our doctor told us to never get pregnant again because of the trauma with Nathan’s birth.  SO we wondered what it would be like to have other kids in our home.  Maybe we would adopt one day, so why not try foster parenting just to see how it would go.  Oh, dear reader, please remember that I was young and had no idea what I was getting in to.  So we started to pray.  We went to a meeting at the county, but they scared us away with their rules and beliefs about spanking.  So we were back to square one.  Then one day, my friend called me to ask if I had heard that our Sunday night service that same evening was going to be focused on foster care and adoption.  I couldn’t believe it.  We had never had a night at church like that nor one since.  Dave and I went and cried the whole service. It was like God orchestrated the entire evening for us.  We knew God was calling us to do this.  After the service, we met a man named Dale, who was recruiting foster families for a ministry called Advent.  We knew this was the place to get started.  They licensed us and helped us with everything we needed.  When Nathan was 18 months, we got the call of an 18mo boy that needed a home.  We jumped in the car with Dale and went to meet this boy at his current foster home.  We were so excited.  It was like Christmas and my birthday all wrapped in one.  Yet, when we walked into the home, all excitement faded.  The home was dirty.  There were many other kids there.  And this little boy had his own little corner of the living room caged in by gates.  It looked like he lived in his little cage and I could quickly see that he was dirty and had a dirty diaper as well.  I was sick with grief over the conditions this child was living in.  I told Dale, “I want him.”  And we made arrangements to pick him up a few days later.  It turned out that he was only 2 days younger than Nathan.  They looked like twins, both having blond hair and blue eyes.  It also turned out that this sweet boy had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, which affected his speech and motor skills.  We loved having “twins”.  I was asked all the time if they were twins, which I would reply, “yes”.  As much as we loved our new boy, we began to become angry.  When you have other kids in your home, you do not see them like you see your own kids.  Dave and I both felt this anger grasping at our hearts.  It was so depressing.  Here we were….rescuing a poor, helpless baby……and we were angry.  Talk about pathetic.  What kind of parents were we?  We loved on him and cared deeply for him.  But the anger was an indication that we had unresolved crap from our past.  This had nothing to do with our sweet addition.  It had everything to do with our damaged hearts. 

Enter the first, but not the last, birth mom that we would encounter in our 18 years of foster parenting.  Her story is so amazing that I need one blog just for her.  I’ll just give you a little hint….we hated each other!!!