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!