Fiesta!

Well.

I have entered the world of crazy.

But I think we all knew that would happen.

Earlier this week my rose colored glasses were broken.

Luckily for me, the world still holds beauty without them.

...

This weekend I took our little girl to a birthday party.

Which turned out to actually be a giant family reunion of a huge Mexican clan.

I sat the whole time, thankful for Joey and his cute face as a buffer and slightly alarmed to be the only white person in a room full of extremely friendly, but difficult to understand, grandmas and aunts and overly-friendly uncles.

I did get a spontaneous hug from what might have been the oldest looking woman I have ever encountered. She didn't seem to mind in the slightest that I had never met her before. I was standing, so I should be hugged.

The awkwardness I endured for two and a half hours was all worth it to hear that I was part of our five-year old's very first time ever going to a friend's house. As we drove to the party her legs bounced and her ponytail whipped as she tried to look out of all of the van windows at the same time.

She very shyly admitted that she had never been to a friend's house before.

When we arrived she hid behind my legs, even when her friend ran to greet her. Throughout the party she would come find me and ask if she could participate in different activities. By the end of our time her cheeks were pink and her eyes were sparkling.

I was exhausted from smiling and making halting conversation, but she was full and that made me glad.

I am thankful to have had that moment of satisfaction, because the weekend went down-hill from there.

Without all the shocking details (truly, shocking, I mean ... like worthy of an episode of some crime drama), I will sum up the last three days by saying that we have had two boys suspended from school, found drugs in our back yard, called the police three times in as many days, had two children removed from our home by the police and heard more profanity than I have ever heard strung together in my life.

The first night of chaos, I felt battered. I was confused and obsessed with all the things I did wrong that only made things worse. The second day of chaos I thought, I've seen it all before (how quickly I am learning) and the third day, today, I just feel sad.

It is sad to see so much brokenness.

I have begun to learn to pray in new, desperate ways and to invite God into my home at every moment.

I am grateful tonight for my mom and dad. I am thankful for support from friends old and new, and I am amazed that God's word is so alive and so powerful for today.

I was going to end by commending all of the moms and dads I know and emphasizing what an important job it is to parent, even imperfectly - but I realized that inside of me a soapbox is growing in huge-monstrous proportions and standing on a soapbox after three days of no sleep and heightened emotional levels is not wise.

So instead, I will end by saying that Jack and Joey are doing well. Joey is the star of the house and everybody wants to be the one to sit next to him in the van and help carry him into church.

Jack is finding his place in the house slowly but surely. Most nights I wake up and find he has snuck into my bed at some point in the night. When I discover him I relish the warmth of his wiggly little self next to me and kiss his buzz-cut-head. Then I usually carry him back to bed so I can sleep.

A few times I have actually just gone to sleep in his bed to save the effort of moving him from his comfortable and safe place.

We all are making our adjustments, but we are intact. We have met new friends, Andy and I have laughed and smiled and worked together and I haven't even made him listen to me cry (yet). We are tired and my brain is so full that new bits of information are temporarily being turned away - a problem - yes, but nothing a handy pen and paper can't take care of! Through it all, we are meeting God and meeting each other.

The last days have not been easy, but they have a purpose, and I am content in that.

And how could I not be finding the beauty in my days with these blokes about?

Jack, if when you are older you wonder why there are three pictures of Joey and only one of you - it is because you are miserable to take a picture of. You are too fast and usually are stuffing food in your face. And when you aren't eating, it is probably because you are coloring.

On your face.

In ink that is very hard to wash off.

But I adore you still my funny, sweet, clever and artsy boy!

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

On Monday night I sat around a long, beautiful table with my new kids.

After a chaotic afternoon, we all found ourselves sitting down to pot roast, mashed potatoes, and asparagus wrapped with bacon - my favorite thing to serve kids.

I am now the proud foster mom to three teenage boys, two elementary school boys and the sweetest little slip of a girl you could find (Ellery no longer falls in the "little slip of a girl" category as she is now nearly seven and reads at a middle school level).

All of the children in our home have been in group home settings before. One of the boys has had 22 different placements and asked me in an equally indifferent and hopeful tone of voice if this would be a permanent placement.

I couldn't tell him yes or no, but I could tell him that I was happy to have him.

And I am!

Yesterday I cheered on a boy at the skate park. Today I listened to him ask every hour when we could go back.

Yesterday on the first attempt to get to the skate park I received a call from one of the schools asking me to pick up one of our kids who was suspected of bringing drugs to school.

Today I assembled a tv stand that had thwarted all of the teen boys - even the ones who "like to put stuff together" and Andy.

Today I also had a mini-meltdown over the minor detail that I haven't figured out where CrossFit fits into this new life.

Tomorrow is Jack's third birthday, and I feel just a tiny bit guilty that I haven't even purchased gifts for him. We will, don't worry, but I am finding myself extremely thankful that he is still just young enough to not be aware of how exciting a birthday could be.

Tomorrow is another day. Another chance to learn and to develop a flow for this new family. To pray. To laugh. To feed. To thank God for his good gifts and ask him again to give me everything I need to let his love flow through me and into the very special and fragile lives that are now living in my home.

Quick Update

Well, we just (seriously, JUST... like five minutes ago - so this will be brief) rolled back in from our second, and apparently last, short-term house stay.

Midway through our week at SPLASH 8 (each of the 10 GAP houses is numbered), we got a call saying there were both a house and kids waiting for us.

So this weekend we will be packing up our daily life and moving it to a new house, for good. Joining us on Monday will be a set of four siblings (3 boys and a girl, all middle-school or younger), a teen boy, and a teen girl.

It has been fun to see how other families order their days and to have an opportunity to test out our skills in a home with lots of chances for immediate feedback. But I can not tell you how excited I am to have my own home.

The house we are moving into is still in the process of being renovated. We did a walk through yesterday and it is far from finished, but with a good team, and some elbow grease it should at least be functioning by Monday for us to bring kids in.

My fingers are crossed!

To be continued...

Trial By Fire

Andy and I have now finished our first week of in-home work. We relieved a couple so that they could have a week off. After a crash-course of how their house worked they handed over their keys and left us to the lions.

I felt a little foolish during training, but I made a special point to ask what I was allowed to talk about on this here blog, in regards to the kids who Andy and I are interacting with.

You will be happy to know that I can still share about this adventure, I just have to be vague in reference to the kids. No names, no ages, no identifying details. I knew, going into this ministry, that I would be working with kid who needed a safe place and a refuge from unhealthy and unsafe families and situations, but until this week I didn't KNOW.

I spent Wednesday night sitting with a young woman as she experienced an intense flashback to the brutal events that brought her to GAP. She was mentally trapped in a memory of abuse. She couldn't hear me, but she gripped my hand as she screamed and moaned. Andy was upstairs with some of the high school boys, and each time they moved or came into view she was terrified.

After a consultation with her therapist I got her a drink of water and lead her, unseeing, to sit outside. As we sat on the porch swing, she calmed down. When she could hear me, I started to tell random stories. Anything that I could think about that was unrelated to the world she knows. I talked about my mom's new paint colors, about moths, about driving to Arizona.

Eventually, she sat limply on the swing, but started to ask me questions. She asked about how Andy and I met, and about school and about why we moved. After a long time of swinging and talking, she said she was ready for bed.

I got her another drink of water and stayed up while she brushed her teeth and put her pajamas on. In the morning she acted like it wasn't a major event and just moved on with her day.

At some points of the week, we felt like we the girlfriend in "The Parent Trap." Kids hid things from us (the phone and remote) they told us tall tales, they frightened us with the realities of bobcats and javelinas (okay, that was just me that they scared)

Javelinas,

in case you are like me and

have never heard of them,

are a sort of wild pig.

Sometimes called, a skunk-pig.

They travel in packs and

are highly aggressive.

They have large, sharp canine teeth

and a gland somewhere on their body

that can produce a stench kin to a skunk.

They eat cactus and small children, so I've been told.

They are blind-ish and as a result travel about at

dusk and dawn.

They terrify me.

They have taken on a mythical quality

of evil and if I see one, I might decide to

scream.

In the course of two days I was told that I was beautiful, and that I was ugly. That I was cool, and that I was mean (said with as much venom as a frustrated elementary school boy could muster). Kids jumped up to help us when we asked, or they jumped up, literally, on counters and couches in an attempt to exactly the opposite of what we asked.

I worked with two elementary schoolers who could barley read and struggled to write.

Andy did impromptu workouts outside and the boys thought it was a treat to do lunges across the driveway.

I prepared food according the the mandatory menu (the menu will have to be a whole other post, or two or three) and I also whipped up food that got rave reviews from the kids. I consider it a personal triumph that in a house of seven kids, from elementary to high school, every child but one ate the asparagus I made and asked for seconds and thirds. And that happened after many cries of dismay when I pulled it out of the grocery bag.

One teen in our care took a special liking to Andy. Though he also like to spin stories and push the boundaries, he seemed to battle within himself - "do I want to help these newbies, or do I want to make it miserable for them?" He did a little bit of both, but when he said, "You guys are weird. I've never met anyone as weird as you." He said it with a hint of admiration and later in the week he casually dropped the suggestion, a few times, that when we have our own SPLASH house we should ask for him to come live with us.

Andy and I both felt like we were able to, by God's grace and strength, to handle each event that came our way. We developed genuine care for the kids we were with and I cherished the moment that the boy who fought with me the most asked me to come read and pray with him before bed.

Both Jack and Joey got fevers while we were there and Andy was attacked by some sort of sickness early in the week. When he went to bed by 8:00, I managed the house by myself and it was fine. I remained healthy until we left and as soon as I was in the car I was struck by what I think was my first-ever migraine. I sat motionless in the van as we drove home. Then I went straight upstairs to throw-up and fall hard-asleep for a few hours. Andy, the champion of all husbands, took the boys to the park and left the house silent for me to rest. When I woke up I felt a million times better and ate a little dinner before turning in early.

At the beginning of this venture I wasn't sure I was going to be able to say that it would be "fun," but after this week, I can say that it will be. I loved almost every minute of this week. I love the kids and I love the staff of this ministry. I love my husband and was amazed again by him as I watched him interact with the kids.

Yesterday afternoon we learned that we may be in our own house very quickly. We toured it and Andy and I both agreed that we could make it our home. It is in the process of being cleaned and stocked with furniture, and though it is not ready our program director said that if she received a call today with a sibling set of six kids, she would send them to that house and tell us to get there ASAP.

Andy and I still are working out how we will make sure to give our boys the individual time and attention that we want them to have, but we feel like we have time to make those discoveries.

Last night, as we both sat with Jack and told stories and prayed, Jack wrapped his arms around our necks and said, in the tone of voice that belongs only to sleepy preschoolers, "I love you guys."

We love you too Jack.

We love you too!

We have today and tomorrow to rest and do laundry and then on Monday we walk into another house. A new set of kids and a new routine.

If you had asked me four months ago what I though of someone who did this job, I would have immediately thought of all of the hard parts. But today, I see the hard parts only in light of the miracle of being able to, even for just a few days, communicate to a child that they are safe and cared for and important.

And that Jesus loves them.

Today, I am amazed.

One Year

Happy Birthday Joey Boy!





You have added so much joy to our family.

We love you dearly!

Point of Vulnerability

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

James 1:27

I had been spending some time with this verse prior to knowing anything about GAP Ministries or ever having considered foster-parenting. What had caught my attention was the last part, "keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

I was coming at it from the perspective of someone who wasn't working with "widows and orphans." I appreciated the third "option" for genuine religion. My thought was, "Well, if I'm not working with the "homeless and loveless," as the Message translates it, at least I can make great efforts to keep from being polluted by the world."

But now that I am in the midst of preparing to host children who are temporary orphans, I see the verse in yet another light.

I love that God's word is living and active.

This week Andy and I spent two very, very long days finishing our initial training and testing. We will be required to have on-going training (all house-parents are) over the year, but we have now passed all the hurdles to get us going.

Training was extremely difficult for me.

In part, because I realized that I am, in fact, "working" again. After nearly three years of being at home, I am jumping back into schedules, meetings, paper-work, deadlines, and a myriad of other work-related words that I haven't had to think about for a very long time.

It took me many months to get OUT of work mode, I'm sure it will take a similar amount of time to transition back IN.

But, it is tricky. I don't want to look at the lives in my care as "work." I have decided that for me, I will think about anything on paper as my job. The logs and forms and information that I have to keep daily to report to the state of Arizona about how I am providing care, those things are what I get paid for. The children that come under my roof, the conversations that I have, the discipline that will inevitably be required - those things are a privilege. Each life I encounter is valuable to God, I want to treat it as such.

The other aspect of training that was difficult was the array of horrible, horrible scenarios that we were trained for. At some point during each of our training sessions I had to struggle against tears. And on a couple of occasions, Andy and I both were fighting to remain composed.

I learned everything from how to supervise phone calls between children and their estranged parents, to how to handle children who run away from our care, to how to identify and report signs of sexual, emotional or physical abuse.

Oh, my heart breaks.

So yesterday, when I read, "and keep yourself from being polluted by the world," I had a whole new perspective. If I am not careful, things that now sound unimaginable to me, will become common place: the anger and difficult behavior I encounter will become a nuisance instead of a sign of deep hurt, the paperwork will seem like the priority over people, the wickedness of man will cease to cause sorrow in my heart.

I don't want to be dulled or polluted by this world.

I am about to encounter more of the "world" then I ever have. I have always had a family that loves me, a sense of security, a safety net. My world has been small, because I have had that luxury. But now, by my own choosing, I am opening my home to the world. I am welcoming people in who are covered with the world's pollution, either by their choices, or by misfortune. My options are to try and stay away, so that I don't get dirty in the first place, or to draw close, and let the Holy Spirit daily cleanse me, so that the pollution doesn't stick.

I hope that I live the latter.

When I went to get my physical and drug test (a very bizarre experience) the doctor who was helping me was completely baffled by what Andy and I are doing. She kept saying over and over, "Ten kids! Ten kids?!" She was very friendly and curious, but she just couldn't fathom it. After a little bit of conversation she said, "You should be on reality tv!"

Now, I confess, the though had crossed my mind. There is a certain element of the process that has seemed very detached from reality (making it perfect for "Reality TV") and like prime fodder for mass media.

Yet as I was reading, "and keep yourself from being polluted by the world," I realized that my other point of vulnerability, and entrance-point for pollution, will be my pride.

I know this venture sounds either miserable or marvelous, depending on your own personal risk-aversion. Either way, there is a sense of wonder that accompanies doing something out of the ordinary.

I am a person that loves praise. I love to put on a good show (not on a stage, that would be horrible, but I like to make things look good and easy) and have people notice all the little details I have paid attention to. I know this about myself.

I know about myself that I like to do well. Prepare yourself for a disclosure that reveals my true sin-nature, but whenever I start a new job, I always, always think, "I am going to be the best they have ever hired." There is something in me that just wants to make people love me and need me.

So, I would lie if I said wasn't walking into this venture thinking, "Andy and I are going to be the best!"

And I would lie if I said I didn't think telling people about it makes me sound oh-so-awesome.

But...

Knowing this about myself, I make it my aim to stay in step with the Holy Spirit. If I can genuinely walk with him, and surrender my ambitions to be the very best, to his goals, then I feel in a safe place. Being humble, doesn't mean not being incredible. Jesus was humble on this earth, and we all know how awesome that turned out! I firmly believe that God wants big things for the kids who come into GAP's care, and if I am a part of that, I will be so grateful! The danger comes when I see successes, and claim those victories as my own, rather than evidence of God's goodness and greatness.

So, in addition to the challenge to keep my heart soft, I need to keep my heart humble.

Easier said than done.

But with God, all things are possible.

Oh Lord, please help me as I give you my life!

...

I had hoped to give you a little more factual information to answer questions, but right now, my heart and head are so full of the process that I can't quite nail down details. Bear with me, we will get there.

Thank you for joining me on this journey!

FAQ: What is a "houseparent"?

Andy has officially resigned from his job.

We are now officially "all in."

His company paid for us to move to AZ, and Andy had agreed to at least a year here. With that in mind, we offered to pay back the moving expenses. Andy's boss, while sad to lose an incredible employee, was very supportive and told us to keep it and leave with his well-wishes. So, now we are jumping through all the hoops and signing stacks and stacks of paper to get us ready for our new adventure.

Yesterday I had to go get fingerprinted. That was exciting!

Actually, it was very boring.

And I went to the wrong place... twice.

But my boys were troopers and stayed polite and pleasant for all three stops. Jack was slightly distressed that my hands got so dirty and for several minutes after we got back in the van he asked me to retell the event, spending extra time and details on the part where I washed all the dirt off.

I realize that I haven't give lots of specific details about our upcoming life.

You may be wondering, "What does that mean, 'houseparenting'?"

You might be wondering, "Who will feed all those kids?"

You are probably wondering, "What about Jack and Joey?"

Well, I will tell you.

Probably not all right at this very moment, because frankly, that might make a really boring post, and honestly, I still am not sure that I am completely clear about what I have signed myself up for.

But I can tell you, in this very post, what Andy and I *think we* have signed on for.

Our eventual goal, after training, is to be the resident parent-couple at one of the ten houses owned and operated by GAP Ministries. We would live there and treat it as if it were our own home. We would have 8 available beds and would probably see a pretty regular turnover in kids.

In Arizona, once a child has been removed from a home by CPS, the parents or guardians have one year to remedy whatever the situation is that caused their children to be removed. When the state removes the child, they call GAP to see if there are any beds available. When there are, a child that comes into one of our houses could be there just for the weekend, while a family member steps up to take the child, or they could stay the full year and later be placed with a permanent foster family.

Andy and I will be responsible for welcoming each child and integrating them into a "home" setting. For some this could be teaching them proper hygiene, it could be modeling a healthy husband-wife relationship, it will probably be teaching them how to live at peace with those in the home, it will mean developing and maintaining a routine for the home - including chores, financial management and solid study habits, and for all of them it will involve managing a lot of appointments (case workers, parent-visits, court hearings, school, after school activities, doctor, dentist, etc.).

The goal of our role really is to create a home and invite children who need a safe place, to participate in the home experience. The ministry we are working with encourages outings and celebrations that contribute to the family vibe. If Andy and I wanted to budget and do the leg work, we could drive our whole house to Disneyland. We can take them swimming and hiking and to the art museum... whatever we feel like coordinating. We can take the kids for pajama rides to get ice cream on a school night if we feel like it! I love that about this ministry, that they put so much emphasis on creating a home and facilitating family.

Before surrendering myself to this transition, I spent some time going over all of the pages I have written in the past of what I want to define our family and our home. What I want us to major on. The things that I feel are critical expressions of who Andy and I are and what we want to teach our children.

I wanted to make sure that those things, that I also feel are God-given, would not be violated by this new undertaking.

Over the last three years I have kept random pages of thoughts and ambitions for my family, my marriage, my parenting... I have kept them all in one place, but haven't actually ever put them all on the same page, or read over them as a whole. As I did so, I discovered two major themes: peace and hospitality.

Those are the words that over and over and over again call to me. They embody what I want of my home and what I pray daily:

Lord, please fill this house with your peace.

Lord, please use our home as a sanctuary for those who need rest.

When I was growing up, my mom painted our front door. It was beautiful. A bright, shiny red frame with the following sentiment artfully written:

Peace to those who enter here.
Courage to those who go forth.
Let those who go and those who stay
Forget not God

Over the last year especially, as Andy and I have transitioned through three different houses, those words have filled my brain. That is what I want my offering to this world to be. A home of peace. Peace that speaks not of my hostessing skills or my cooking or my decor, but peace that seeps into spirits and invites my guests and my family to know God, the Prince of Peace.

With those two words, I feel such invitation to this new ministry. During a short part of our decision process I wanted to run away and say, "not right now." But when I saw those two ideas, in my own handwriting, alive on page after page, I knew that this was right.

What I want for my own children, I want to offer to orphans.

Peace.

Hospitality.

And as I talked to my own mom, and was refreshed and encouraged by HER enthusiasm and confidence in me, I thought, "the kids I am about to meet will probably never hear their mom say what I get to hear from my own mother." If there is a mom who is not able to speak comfort and encouragement, or who chooses not to celebrate her child, I want to do it. I am discovering that mothering, for me, is not just about Jack and Joey. It is becoming about every child who needs a woman to speak gentle words and to offer fresh food and to cheer for all of the little victories.

So for me, that is what I have signed up for.

To mother.

To promote peace and offer hospitality.

Of course there will be all the details of living and of managing and of learning. I expect hurt. I expect frustration. I expect challenge. But I don't fear it. Because over all of those things I know that God is able to do more than I can ask or imagine. And when I ask for his peace to fill my new home and to bring rest to those who need it, I know that I am praying HIS heart and can expect to see his hand and meet him face to face.