I have a lot to write about the Tapestry conference last Saturday, but to be honest, I am just too tired to process through it all coherently right now.
In the meantime, here is a video of an adoption story in the works. I love so much about this story--the joy of a family together, the powerful articulation of the gospel, the parallels with our own adoption in Christ. But I hate a lot about it too. I hate knowing that this little boy has to live separated from his family for possibly years while the paperwork machine grinds slowly. I hate thinking of the emotional fallout of tri-fold trauma: living in an orphanage, seeing parents once every three months, watching them leave again.
I hate the many obstacles in the world of orphan care that leave children lonely, bruised, wary. I know there are excellent reasons for some of these obstacles, reasons meant to safeguard the children. But I also know there is no way to explain that to a child's heart.
The world is broken. And all those who are trying to fix it are broken.
All we can do is cling to a God who is whole, who is holy, who restores.
Hear the word of the LORD, you nations;
proclaim it in distant coastlands:
‘He who scattered Israel will gather them
and will watch over his flock like a shepherd.’
For the LORD will deliver Jacob
and redeem them from the hand of those stronger than they.
They will come and shout for joy on the heights of Zion;
they will rejoice in the bounty of the LORD—
the grain, the new wine, and the olive oil,
the young of the flocks and herds.
They will be like a well-watered garden,
and they will sorrow no more.
Then young women will dance and be glad,
young men and old as well.
I will turn their mourning into gladness;
I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.
Jeremiah 31:10-13
October 31, 2011
October 28, 2011
Ha ha ha
Walked into my hotel room in Irving (I'm here for the Tapestry conference tomorrow) to find a bowl of Hershey's chocolates on the desk. It's like they read yesterday's post. I'm no chocolate fiend, but a bowl in my hotel room? A for effort, enemy.
October 27, 2011
What's Really Scary About Halloween
You know how vegans are so passionate about animal rights that they go far beyond not eating meat to not ever wearing or paying for anything that even remotely harms an animal? They will spend more money on fake leather than most carnivores will spend on real leather. All for a cow. Now personally, I don't really care a lot about cows. (I know, I'm awful). Cows are not the brightest animal ever to walk the planet. They smell. They do bad things to our environment when they are gathered in large groups (methane, anyone?). Some of them will gore rodeo clowns (I've seen it; it's traumatic. And not for the cows.) Yet, for the protection of this pathetic, probably-would-be-extinct-if-they-hadn't-been-domesticated species, vegans will spend extra money, shop in hard to find places, and forgo the pleasures of eating things like steak and cheeseburgers. For cows.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not hating on vegans. I applaud their commitment, and have occasionally been one (though for selfish reasons, alas). It's just important to keep in mind how much these folks are willing to change their lives, to sacrifice, to ensure the safety of these dumb, stinky animals.
Now what if you were faced with similar (though I would argue much easier to bear) sacrifices in order to safeguard children? I'm not talking veal here either, I'm talking human children. What if something you were buying and eating was causing serious, jaw-dropping harm to young children? Wouldn't you want to one-up the vegans on this? Wouldn't you want to change what you buy, write to Congress, maybe even give unsolicited lectures in grocery stores?
A couple of days ago, I discovered (thanks to some awesome bloggers) that chocolate (seriously, chocolate) runs on child labor, child slavery, child prostitution. WHAT???!!! As my mom so adroitly put it, "Hershey's? In Pennsylvania???" Stunned doesn't even begin to describe my reaction. Turns out that the majority (overwhelming majority) of the chocolate that is sold in America is sourced from horrific conditions. And the companies (and consumers) don't seem to care. Ouch.
Now I'll be honest, I'm not a chocolate fiend. I can take it or leave it. I've never had a chocolate craving. I don't like chocolate cake. I don't like chocolate ice cream. [I know my girl-card is now in serious danger of being revoked.] I don't buy chocolate Halloween candy. [I buy sour candy, because I hate sour candy, and therefore am safe from the temptation to eat it all by October 31st.] But even if chocolate were my favorite thing in the whole world, I don't think [I hope, anyway] that I would eat it once I knew what making it meant for the children involved. I'm certainly not going to buy it now. And I hope you won't either.
For a passionate picture of what is going on, read more here. I didn't even make it halfway through the first portion of the BBC video before bursting into tears. If you just want the facts, read here.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not hating on vegans. I applaud their commitment, and have occasionally been one (though for selfish reasons, alas). It's just important to keep in mind how much these folks are willing to change their lives, to sacrifice, to ensure the safety of these dumb, stinky animals.
Now what if you were faced with similar (though I would argue much easier to bear) sacrifices in order to safeguard children? I'm not talking veal here either, I'm talking human children. What if something you were buying and eating was causing serious, jaw-dropping harm to young children? Wouldn't you want to one-up the vegans on this? Wouldn't you want to change what you buy, write to Congress, maybe even give unsolicited lectures in grocery stores?
A couple of days ago, I discovered (thanks to some awesome bloggers) that chocolate (seriously, chocolate) runs on child labor, child slavery, child prostitution. WHAT???!!! As my mom so adroitly put it, "Hershey's? In Pennsylvania???" Stunned doesn't even begin to describe my reaction. Turns out that the majority (overwhelming majority) of the chocolate that is sold in America is sourced from horrific conditions. And the companies (and consumers) don't seem to care. Ouch.
Now I'll be honest, I'm not a chocolate fiend. I can take it or leave it. I've never had a chocolate craving. I don't like chocolate cake. I don't like chocolate ice cream. [I know my girl-card is now in serious danger of being revoked.] I don't buy chocolate Halloween candy. [I buy sour candy, because I hate sour candy, and therefore am safe from the temptation to eat it all by October 31st.] But even if chocolate were my favorite thing in the whole world, I don't think [I hope, anyway] that I would eat it once I knew what making it meant for the children involved. I'm certainly not going to buy it now. And I hope you won't either.
For a passionate picture of what is going on, read more here. I didn't even make it halfway through the first portion of the BBC video before bursting into tears. If you just want the facts, read here.
October 26, 2011
Trauma and Recovery
Yesterday in a foster parent training I watched a documentary entitled "Healing Neen." It chronicles the life of a woman, Tonier Cain, who suffered extensive abuse, trauma, and neglect as a child. As an adult, her life was marked by drugs, prostitution, homelessness, and repeated incarceration. Miraculously, after nineteen years of this life, she entered a program of what is called trauma-informed care which transformed her life beyond all recognition.
It is both a deeply disturbing and profoundly inspiring story. You can find out more, and download a shorter version, at the website www.healingneen.com. It is a pretty graphic film (mom, don't watch it), but it shows the extent to which trauma, especially early trauma, shapes behavior. To my surprise, watching it gave me a much greater sense of compassion for the parents whose children are removed by the foster care system. Tonier's life shows how that system can fail disastrously on both ends of the spectrum. It sounds trite to say it makes you think, but it really does. Beyond the limitations of the system, however, Tonier's story shows how the cycle of abuse, neglect, and trauma can seem inescapable. It gives testament to the saying "hurt people hurt people." But her story also reveals that redemption is possible, drastic reinvention can happen.
Watch it if you can (except mom, seriously, don't watch it).
It is both a deeply disturbing and profoundly inspiring story. You can find out more, and download a shorter version, at the website www.healingneen.com. It is a pretty graphic film (mom, don't watch it), but it shows the extent to which trauma, especially early trauma, shapes behavior. To my surprise, watching it gave me a much greater sense of compassion for the parents whose children are removed by the foster care system. Tonier's life shows how that system can fail disastrously on both ends of the spectrum. It sounds trite to say it makes you think, but it really does. Beyond the limitations of the system, however, Tonier's story shows how the cycle of abuse, neglect, and trauma can seem inescapable. It gives testament to the saying "hurt people hurt people." But her story also reveals that redemption is possible, drastic reinvention can happen.
Watch it if you can (except mom, seriously, don't watch it).
October 24, 2011
Fabulous Fidgets
During my TBRI training this past summer, one of the things that I found most world-rocking was the idea of “fidgets.” Quite simply, these are toy-like objects that you hold and fidget with while you’re listening to a presentation or lecture.
Now, I have always prided myself on my ability to pay attention (not exactly an Olympic skill, but I worked with what I had). Teachers all throughout my childhood loved me for my constant, interested eye contact. I take fantastic lecture notes. I can sit for hours listening to people talk and be able to parrot their phrases back to you at the end (which is no guarantee that I actually understood, mind you).
Before TBRI, my response to the whole idea that someone couldn’t sit still and pay attention would have been “well, they’ve just never learned how.” I would have said the thing to do to correct their behavior would be to make them sit and pay attention, and practice until they could.
Do we need to teach children how to sit and pay attention? Yes, of course. It’s not an innate skill, and it’s certainly not one that our world of incessant distractions helps teach. But, if you just try and make a four year old boy sit still and pay attention for five, ten, fifteen minutes at a stretch, you will fail. You will be frustrated. It won’t be fun for anyone.
And if you think about it, our demands that kids sit still and pay attention are rarely for as manageable a time as five minutes. How long is a school day? How long is a Sunday school class? How long are you sitting at a restaurant trying to have a nice meal? Good grief, I have yet to make it through even a short car ride with a small tyke without having to say the words “just sit still!”
Now imagine there were something simple (and in no way dangerous or narcotic) out there that you could put into a child’s hands that would make it a lot easier for him to sit still. And imagine it helped him concentrate so that he actually paid better attention and retained more information. What if it were something ridiculously simple, like a ball of 39 cent silly putty?
That’s a “fidget.” It’s an uncomplicated toy that occupies the hands, freeing up the rest of the body to be still and the brain to be attentive. I know, I didn’t believe it either. Until around day two of the TBRI training when I started ‘playing’ with one of the fidgets on our table. It was a simple loop of plastic called a tangle that moves around. I had that thing going nonstop throughout all the lectures. I had picked it up out of curiosity, never believing for a second that a toy could possibly improve my stellar concentration. Boy was I wrong. I had a much easier time sitting through the long days (8 hours of lecture is rough on even the most quiescent adult), and I found my mind wandering much less than it had without the tangle. I was astounded.
But wait, you’re thinking, you can’t just let rowdy kids play with toys in the middle of the classroom! I had the same reaction, but then thought, why not? Would you rather spend your day saying, with increasing sharpness, “sit still!” or would you rather have the eyes and ears of your classroom, even if their hands are holding toys?
I have heard feedback from teachers who have used fidgets in their school classrooms, and they explain that the whole room is a bit bonkers for the first week or two. Every kid grabs a fidget and plays with it, and you just have to kind of ride that out. Over time, the kids who don’t need them quit picking them up, and the ones who do need them settle into the routine.
I will tell you that I used the concept yesterday in my children’s ministry classroom of energetic four year olds (mostly boys, several of whom have already been there for two and a half hours by the time I arrive). I offered the kids the chance to bring a small ball of play-doh with them into the main teaching time. About 70% of the kids brought the play-doh. Of those, about 50% just held the play-doh quietly in their hands. The rest actively ‘played’ with it, most rolling it into smaller balls that they then arranged. All of the kids listened more attentively and sat more quietly than they ever had before. Next week we’re going to try silly putty (it's less of a hazard in a carpeted area). But I also found this website that has a whole section of ‘fidgets’ and other small toys that are great.
Some tips to make it work:
1. I’ve found that fidgets that don’t actually look like toys work best. You want to keep their hands busy so their minds can focus elsewhere—if the toy is too interesting, their mind (and the minds of their neighbors) will be on the toy.
2. Give out the toys at the beginning of your time with the children. Those who don’t really need the fidgets will lose interest in them by the time you’re trying to get everyone to sit and listen.
3. I explained that they could bring the play-doh in with them if it helped them sit and listen quietly. This way it is both a fidget and an incentive.
4. Try and pick a range of fidgets: some tactilely interesting, some requiring repetitive movement, some akin to stress balls (for hard squeezes). Kids will gravitate toward what soothes them.
5. Things that bounce or pop up suddenly are great for one-on-one playtime, but make lousy fidgets. They are super distracting for everyone.
6. Magnets are dangerous for kids (they can swallow them). Keep in mind basic toy safety issues, especially if you are buying them from an adult-oriented company (many great fidgets are sold as office toys).
7. Try one yourself! Bring a tangle to fidget with under the table at your next board meeting or conference call. You might be surprised at the results, and it will certainly help you help the children you serve!
Now, I have always prided myself on my ability to pay attention (not exactly an Olympic skill, but I worked with what I had). Teachers all throughout my childhood loved me for my constant, interested eye contact. I take fantastic lecture notes. I can sit for hours listening to people talk and be able to parrot their phrases back to you at the end (which is no guarantee that I actually understood, mind you).
Before TBRI, my response to the whole idea that someone couldn’t sit still and pay attention would have been “well, they’ve just never learned how.” I would have said the thing to do to correct their behavior would be to make them sit and pay attention, and practice until they could.
Do we need to teach children how to sit and pay attention? Yes, of course. It’s not an innate skill, and it’s certainly not one that our world of incessant distractions helps teach. But, if you just try and make a four year old boy sit still and pay attention for five, ten, fifteen minutes at a stretch, you will fail. You will be frustrated. It won’t be fun for anyone.
And if you think about it, our demands that kids sit still and pay attention are rarely for as manageable a time as five minutes. How long is a school day? How long is a Sunday school class? How long are you sitting at a restaurant trying to have a nice meal? Good grief, I have yet to make it through even a short car ride with a small tyke without having to say the words “just sit still!”
Now imagine there were something simple (and in no way dangerous or narcotic) out there that you could put into a child’s hands that would make it a lot easier for him to sit still. And imagine it helped him concentrate so that he actually paid better attention and retained more information. What if it were something ridiculously simple, like a ball of 39 cent silly putty?
That’s a “fidget.” It’s an uncomplicated toy that occupies the hands, freeing up the rest of the body to be still and the brain to be attentive. I know, I didn’t believe it either. Until around day two of the TBRI training when I started ‘playing’ with one of the fidgets on our table. It was a simple loop of plastic called a tangle that moves around. I had that thing going nonstop throughout all the lectures. I had picked it up out of curiosity, never believing for a second that a toy could possibly improve my stellar concentration. Boy was I wrong. I had a much easier time sitting through the long days (8 hours of lecture is rough on even the most quiescent adult), and I found my mind wandering much less than it had without the tangle. I was astounded.
But wait, you’re thinking, you can’t just let rowdy kids play with toys in the middle of the classroom! I had the same reaction, but then thought, why not? Would you rather spend your day saying, with increasing sharpness, “sit still!” or would you rather have the eyes and ears of your classroom, even if their hands are holding toys?
I have heard feedback from teachers who have used fidgets in their school classrooms, and they explain that the whole room is a bit bonkers for the first week or two. Every kid grabs a fidget and plays with it, and you just have to kind of ride that out. Over time, the kids who don’t need them quit picking them up, and the ones who do need them settle into the routine.
I will tell you that I used the concept yesterday in my children’s ministry classroom of energetic four year olds (mostly boys, several of whom have already been there for two and a half hours by the time I arrive). I offered the kids the chance to bring a small ball of play-doh with them into the main teaching time. About 70% of the kids brought the play-doh. Of those, about 50% just held the play-doh quietly in their hands. The rest actively ‘played’ with it, most rolling it into smaller balls that they then arranged. All of the kids listened more attentively and sat more quietly than they ever had before. Next week we’re going to try silly putty (it's less of a hazard in a carpeted area). But I also found this website that has a whole section of ‘fidgets’ and other small toys that are great.
Some tips to make it work:
1. I’ve found that fidgets that don’t actually look like toys work best. You want to keep their hands busy so their minds can focus elsewhere—if the toy is too interesting, their mind (and the minds of their neighbors) will be on the toy.
2. Give out the toys at the beginning of your time with the children. Those who don’t really need the fidgets will lose interest in them by the time you’re trying to get everyone to sit and listen.
3. I explained that they could bring the play-doh in with them if it helped them sit and listen quietly. This way it is both a fidget and an incentive.
4. Try and pick a range of fidgets: some tactilely interesting, some requiring repetitive movement, some akin to stress balls (for hard squeezes). Kids will gravitate toward what soothes them.
5. Things that bounce or pop up suddenly are great for one-on-one playtime, but make lousy fidgets. They are super distracting for everyone.
6. Magnets are dangerous for kids (they can swallow them). Keep in mind basic toy safety issues, especially if you are buying them from an adult-oriented company (many great fidgets are sold as office toys).
7. Try one yourself! Bring a tangle to fidget with under the table at your next board meeting or conference call. You might be surprised at the results, and it will certainly help you help the children you serve!
October 23, 2011
Inspiration with Wheels On
It is all too easy to attend an amazing conference, feel fired up, and then fizzle out as the tyranny of the immediate hits you when you walk in the door. This blog post is a great stance on preventing that. Even if you didn't attend the Together for Adoption conference this past weekend, it's still a great read and a great route to actually doing something about a problem often feels paralyzingly massive.
Read it, pray about it, do it!
Read it, pray about it, do it!
But prove yourselves doers of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks at his natural face in a mirror; for once he has looked at himself and gone away, he has immediately forgotten what kind of person he was. But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having become a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man will be blessed in what he does. ~James 1:22-25
October 21, 2011
Songs in the Night He Giveth
I love praise and worship songs, when they are written with sound theology and sung by sincere hearts. At their best, there is no matching their outpouring of joy and worship. But as a soprano raised in traditional churches, I have a deep and abiding love for the old, old hymns. They manage to say more; there is an entire seminary class packed into some of those reworked pub songs. Selfishly, I am drawn to them because many of them have lovely, soaring ranges that our often alto-centered modern songs lack. And most of all, I love the way God uses them to comfort me--running them through my head at unexpected moments.
Today has been a day of feeling downtrodden by the enormity of the bureaucratic hurdles I have to jump through. So as I was driving home from one such errand, I turned off my radio and just started singing. And the more I sang, the more perspective I got. All of which reminded me of one of my favorite hymns of all time:
Today has been a day of feeling downtrodden by the enormity of the bureaucratic hurdles I have to jump through. So as I was driving home from one such errand, I turned off my radio and just started singing. And the more I sang, the more perspective I got. All of which reminded me of one of my favorite hymns of all time:
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?
What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—
How can I keep from singing?
I can't say it any better than that.
October 20, 2011
Thank God for God
In the world of foster care and foster adoption, the only thing that is certain is uncertainty. You take a step forward and hope there will be ground beneath your feet. Sometimes there is; sometimes there isn't.
So much of what will happen next is completely out of my control. And so much of how will I get through it is beyond my comprehension.
It is overwhelming, all the time, and I haven't even really started yet. And that reminds me just how grateful I am that God is massive, sovereign, omniscient. There is nothing about this that surprises Him. There is nothing about this that He will not sustain me through. That is the deep breath that calms me down on nights like tonight, that smooths my frowning forehead and makes me smile.
O God Most High, Most Glorious,
The thought of thine infinite serenity cheers me,
For I am toiling and moiling, troubled and distressed,
but thou art ever at perfect peace.
Thy designs cause thee no fear or care of unfulfillment,
they stand fast as the eternal hills.
Thy power knows no bond, thy goodness no stint.
Thou bringest order out of confusion,
and my defeats are thy victories:
The Lord God omnipotent reigneth.
I come to thee as a sinner with cares and sorrows,
to leave every concern entirely to thee,
every sin calling for Christ's precious blood;
Revive deep spirituality in my heart;
Let me live near to the great Shepherd,
hear his voice, know its tones, follow its calls.
Keep me from deception by causing me to abide in the truth,
from harm by helping me to walk in the power of the Spirit.
Give me intenser faith in the eternal verities,
burning into me by experience the things I know;
Let me never be ashamed of the truth of the gospel,
that I may bear its reproach, vindicate it, see Jesus as its essence,
know it in the power of the Spirit.
Lord, help me, for I am often lukewarm and chill;
unbelief mars my confidence, sin makes me forget thee.
Let the weeds that grow in my soul be cut at their roots;
Grant me to know that I truly live only when I live to thee,
that all else is trifling.
Thy presence alone can make me holy, devout, strong, and happy.
Abide in me, gracious God.
From The Valley of Vision.
So much of what will happen next is completely out of my control. And so much of how will I get through it is beyond my comprehension.
It is overwhelming, all the time, and I haven't even really started yet. And that reminds me just how grateful I am that God is massive, sovereign, omniscient. There is nothing about this that surprises Him. There is nothing about this that He will not sustain me through. That is the deep breath that calms me down on nights like tonight, that smooths my frowning forehead and makes me smile.
O God Most High, Most Glorious,
The thought of thine infinite serenity cheers me,
For I am toiling and moiling, troubled and distressed,
but thou art ever at perfect peace.
Thy designs cause thee no fear or care of unfulfillment,
they stand fast as the eternal hills.
Thy power knows no bond, thy goodness no stint.
Thou bringest order out of confusion,
and my defeats are thy victories:
The Lord God omnipotent reigneth.
I come to thee as a sinner with cares and sorrows,
to leave every concern entirely to thee,
every sin calling for Christ's precious blood;
Revive deep spirituality in my heart;
Let me live near to the great Shepherd,
hear his voice, know its tones, follow its calls.
Keep me from deception by causing me to abide in the truth,
from harm by helping me to walk in the power of the Spirit.
Give me intenser faith in the eternal verities,
burning into me by experience the things I know;
Let me never be ashamed of the truth of the gospel,
that I may bear its reproach, vindicate it, see Jesus as its essence,
know it in the power of the Spirit.
Lord, help me, for I am often lukewarm and chill;
unbelief mars my confidence, sin makes me forget thee.
Let the weeds that grow in my soul be cut at their roots;
Grant me to know that I truly live only when I live to thee,
that all else is trifling.
Thy presence alone can make me holy, devout, strong, and happy.
Abide in me, gracious God.
From The Valley of Vision.
October 19, 2011
That's So Exciting!
I was talking with one of my supervisors this morning, and told her I was close to getting my foster license. She responded with what most people say: “That’s so exciting!” I agreed quickly and with enthusiasm, but as I have thought about it since, I realize that it is many, many things, but it is not exciting.
In several areas of life, I am a quick thinker. My brain is agile, intelligent, and creative. But when it comes to emotions, I am slow. At least half a dozen times in my life, someone has said to me, “You seem (fill in emotion here)” and I have vehemently contradicted them, only to realize (days or weeks later) that they were absolutely right. You know that saying, “still waters run deep”? Well sometimes these waters run so deep I have no idea what’s going on in them until I sit and think it over for a while. And fostering/adopting has been something I have been thinking over and thinking over for every minute of every day of the past 383 days [since the Together for Adoption conference in 2010, if you’re curious].
As I check off the items on my massive check list of paperwork and get closer to bringing a child/children into my home, I feel several different emotions with varying degrees of intensity. Excitement is not one of them. And that is not because I’m not looking forward to this next stage. I think it is more that excitement is not a hefty enough emotion for the situation. I get excited when a new book comes out in a favorite series. I get excited when I show up at my favorite restaurant and realize my favorite dish is $2 off during happy hour. I get excited at movie previews. It is not a complicated or lasting emotion for me. And in fact (English-major nerd alert), I just looked it up in the dictionary, and excite comes from the Latin word excitare: to rouse. There have been times during this preparation phase when I have been “roused,” mostly to anger or sadness at the plight of these children. But I am not excited about what is ahead.
So what am I feeling? Fear is probably the biggest contender in this fight (and it totally is a fight in here). It is not a fear of the child(ren) at all, though I am aware that I probably ought to be frightened of these unnamed strangers and the behaviors their trauma will bring. God is carrying me through that—my lack of fear of them is completely through His power, and I know it.
The fear I feel right now is complex, a mix of several fears:
1. I will fail these children. (Duh, obviously I will, every parent does. But it is still scary to contemplate, especially because they will come from such trauma, and so every failure of mine feels more weighty.)
2. I won’t be as good at handling my own mess as I think I will be. This may not make sense, but there is a massive sanctifying aspect to fostering/adopting. Even just reading and thinking about it over the past year has brought a ton of my own wickedness and sinfulness into the light. I’m assuming the real experience will put this process in hyper drive. And while I would love to be the most understanding, patient, self-sacrificing example of Christ’s love on the planet, I know I am super far off from that ideal. And interacting with these kids tends to bring to light the blackness of our own souls. I’m a little terrified of looking at that mess.
3. I will break. I say that I am willing and ready to love those who do not love me back. But there is a fear that, in the trenches, with the daily battles of parenthood pitched moment after moment, the protective hostility of these kiddos will break me. I want them to love me. Kids usually love me. It’s such a part of who I am that it has garnered me nicknames like “the baby whisperer” and “the pied piper.” Like everyone, I love to be loved. And I love kids. It is going to be really hard on my selfish little heart to hear “I hate you” and “you’re not my real mom.” I know these phrases are coming. I worry that I will crumple under them.
So there is fear. There is also an emotion I don’t have a word for…it’s a combination of certainty and contentment. It’s not really a human emotion—there is a huge supernatural element to it. I can tell because it is more secure than my usual emotions. It’s kind of like a righteous assurance, if that makes sense. It has a soldierly feel, as if I were heading out to fight Hitler, knowing the extent of his atrocities. It is not excitement, or joy, or even hopeful expectation. It is a dogged preparedness for grappling, if that makes sense. I know that I am heading into something that has the potential to kill me. But I know it must be done, and that I do not fight alone. I praise God for this feeling, but it is difficult to explain. I’m guessing missionaries feel it, a sense of calling that is firm and sees the worst of what is ahead and faces it unblinking. Again, it is clearly a spiritually empowered emotion—I’m a total chicken without it.
And then, beneath these two, there is something that is similar to joy but doesn’t yet dare call itself that. It bubbles deep below, and it is barely contained by the other two emotions. I think it is the ferocity of love. I am going to love these children like I have never loved anything else on this earth. It’s going to be immense. So immense that it cannot be allowed to rise to the surface yet.
I am not careful with my love. I never have been. This has caused me some rough times in the past, but I have never regretted it. If I love you, I love you fiercely and forever, even if my mouth never manages to say it properly. And these boys, whoever they are, are going to be wholly, painfully, sacrificially adored to an extent that is almost too overwhelming for me to contemplate. And this love is waiting—terrified, certain, and unfocused.
Calling all of this excitement? It’s like calling a massive, city-decimating earthquake a hiccup.
And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary His mother, “Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed—and a sword will pierce even your own soul—to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed. –Luke 2:34
In several areas of life, I am a quick thinker. My brain is agile, intelligent, and creative. But when it comes to emotions, I am slow. At least half a dozen times in my life, someone has said to me, “You seem (fill in emotion here)” and I have vehemently contradicted them, only to realize (days or weeks later) that they were absolutely right. You know that saying, “still waters run deep”? Well sometimes these waters run so deep I have no idea what’s going on in them until I sit and think it over for a while. And fostering/adopting has been something I have been thinking over and thinking over for every minute of every day of the past 383 days [since the Together for Adoption conference in 2010, if you’re curious].
As I check off the items on my massive check list of paperwork and get closer to bringing a child/children into my home, I feel several different emotions with varying degrees of intensity. Excitement is not one of them. And that is not because I’m not looking forward to this next stage. I think it is more that excitement is not a hefty enough emotion for the situation. I get excited when a new book comes out in a favorite series. I get excited when I show up at my favorite restaurant and realize my favorite dish is $2 off during happy hour. I get excited at movie previews. It is not a complicated or lasting emotion for me. And in fact (English-major nerd alert), I just looked it up in the dictionary, and excite comes from the Latin word excitare: to rouse. There have been times during this preparation phase when I have been “roused,” mostly to anger or sadness at the plight of these children. But I am not excited about what is ahead.
So what am I feeling? Fear is probably the biggest contender in this fight (and it totally is a fight in here). It is not a fear of the child(ren) at all, though I am aware that I probably ought to be frightened of these unnamed strangers and the behaviors their trauma will bring. God is carrying me through that—my lack of fear of them is completely through His power, and I know it.
The fear I feel right now is complex, a mix of several fears:
1. I will fail these children. (Duh, obviously I will, every parent does. But it is still scary to contemplate, especially because they will come from such trauma, and so every failure of mine feels more weighty.)
2. I won’t be as good at handling my own mess as I think I will be. This may not make sense, but there is a massive sanctifying aspect to fostering/adopting. Even just reading and thinking about it over the past year has brought a ton of my own wickedness and sinfulness into the light. I’m assuming the real experience will put this process in hyper drive. And while I would love to be the most understanding, patient, self-sacrificing example of Christ’s love on the planet, I know I am super far off from that ideal. And interacting with these kids tends to bring to light the blackness of our own souls. I’m a little terrified of looking at that mess.
3. I will break. I say that I am willing and ready to love those who do not love me back. But there is a fear that, in the trenches, with the daily battles of parenthood pitched moment after moment, the protective hostility of these kiddos will break me. I want them to love me. Kids usually love me. It’s such a part of who I am that it has garnered me nicknames like “the baby whisperer” and “the pied piper.” Like everyone, I love to be loved. And I love kids. It is going to be really hard on my selfish little heart to hear “I hate you” and “you’re not my real mom.” I know these phrases are coming. I worry that I will crumple under them.
So there is fear. There is also an emotion I don’t have a word for…it’s a combination of certainty and contentment. It’s not really a human emotion—there is a huge supernatural element to it. I can tell because it is more secure than my usual emotions. It’s kind of like a righteous assurance, if that makes sense. It has a soldierly feel, as if I were heading out to fight Hitler, knowing the extent of his atrocities. It is not excitement, or joy, or even hopeful expectation. It is a dogged preparedness for grappling, if that makes sense. I know that I am heading into something that has the potential to kill me. But I know it must be done, and that I do not fight alone. I praise God for this feeling, but it is difficult to explain. I’m guessing missionaries feel it, a sense of calling that is firm and sees the worst of what is ahead and faces it unblinking. Again, it is clearly a spiritually empowered emotion—I’m a total chicken without it.
And then, beneath these two, there is something that is similar to joy but doesn’t yet dare call itself that. It bubbles deep below, and it is barely contained by the other two emotions. I think it is the ferocity of love. I am going to love these children like I have never loved anything else on this earth. It’s going to be immense. So immense that it cannot be allowed to rise to the surface yet.
I am not careful with my love. I never have been. This has caused me some rough times in the past, but I have never regretted it. If I love you, I love you fiercely and forever, even if my mouth never manages to say it properly. And these boys, whoever they are, are going to be wholly, painfully, sacrificially adored to an extent that is almost too overwhelming for me to contemplate. And this love is waiting—terrified, certain, and unfocused.
Calling all of this excitement? It’s like calling a massive, city-decimating earthquake a hiccup.
And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary His mother, “Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed—and a sword will pierce even your own soul—to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed. –Luke 2:34
October 18, 2011
A Strange Conversation
I am not, by nature, someone who loves dusting (or even necessarily notices when something needs dusting). But because I was raised by a woman who finds things to clean in a room I have spent two hours cleaning, I know how to clean a house. But with all the inspections and potential strangers who will wander randomly through my home that foster care entails, I decided to treat myself to a professional deep cleaning. Late this afternoon, a woman from the agency I had found (thanks to a recommendation from my resourceful, thorough, and discriminating sister, Beth) arrived to tour my house and give me an estimate. All of which is an overly long preamble to the following conversation(s).
Lady, upon entering the space-themed upstairs bedroom: "So is this a guest room or a children's room?"
Me, slightly flustered from the awkwardness of giving a tour of my house to a stranger: "Um, right now it's a guest room. But it will be a children's room."
Lady: look of utter bewilderment, politely masked.
Lady, downstairs now and still clearly puzzled: "So how many adults live in the home?"
Me, unsure of how to fit the correct answers to the not-quite-asking-that questions: "Just one."
Lady, after a confused pause: "And children...?"
Me, still flummoxed, as introverts are, at how to talk to this excessively polite stranger touring my home: "None. But in a few weeks there may be some. Do I need to keep you guys updated on that?"
Lady's face says clearly: "She's not pregnant, no ring, no other adults in the house...????"
Lady's mouth politely responds: "Oh no... we just try to gauge usage, wear and tear..." her voice fades out as she fails to find a polite way of saying "we need to know how much mess there will be to clean."
Me: "How much mess there'll be?" Awkward giggle.
Finally, we walk through the 'dining room' and into the kitchen. She passes the clearly labeled "Foster Parent Training Manual" that sits near the dining room table. Her expression clears and the rest of our conversation is conducted amicably and without confusion though still accompanied by excessive politeness on her end and failed attempts at chumminess on mine.
******************************
Could I have avoided this whole thing by simply explaining up front? Of course. Is it in my nature to self-disclose so many personal details to a stranger? Not so much, no.
Honestly, I hadn't even anticipated the conversation. The boys' room (I can't help thinking of it like that) is so clearly a room for kids that it is weird to call it a guest room (it's obviously not a guest room). [I have a whole other post to write about that room and what has happened to it, but I'm waiting til I have pictures.] But to me it all makes sense, and I hadn't thought how weird it would look to a stranger. It looked kind of weird before (there were fairies hanging in the windows), so I guess it's more that I don't really show strangers around my house ever.
Anyway. I wasn't fazed by the conversation, just kind of bemused and helpless to clarify as it unfolded. I found it all pretty funny, and I'm hoping I didn't discomfit the agency woman too much. It's not a common scenario, after all, though I wish it were!
Lady, upon entering the space-themed upstairs bedroom: "So is this a guest room or a children's room?"
Me, slightly flustered from the awkwardness of giving a tour of my house to a stranger: "Um, right now it's a guest room. But it will be a children's room."
Lady: look of utter bewilderment, politely masked.
Lady, downstairs now and still clearly puzzled: "So how many adults live in the home?"
Me, unsure of how to fit the correct answers to the not-quite-asking-that questions: "Just one."
Lady, after a confused pause: "And children...?"
Me, still flummoxed, as introverts are, at how to talk to this excessively polite stranger touring my home: "None. But in a few weeks there may be some. Do I need to keep you guys updated on that?"
Lady's face says clearly: "She's not pregnant, no ring, no other adults in the house...????"
Lady's mouth politely responds: "Oh no... we just try to gauge usage, wear and tear..." her voice fades out as she fails to find a polite way of saying "we need to know how much mess there will be to clean."
Me: "How much mess there'll be?" Awkward giggle.
Finally, we walk through the 'dining room' and into the kitchen. She passes the clearly labeled "Foster Parent Training Manual" that sits near the dining room table. Her expression clears and the rest of our conversation is conducted amicably and without confusion though still accompanied by excessive politeness on her end and failed attempts at chumminess on mine.
******************************
Could I have avoided this whole thing by simply explaining up front? Of course. Is it in my nature to self-disclose so many personal details to a stranger? Not so much, no.
Honestly, I hadn't even anticipated the conversation. The boys' room (I can't help thinking of it like that) is so clearly a room for kids that it is weird to call it a guest room (it's obviously not a guest room). [I have a whole other post to write about that room and what has happened to it, but I'm waiting til I have pictures.] But to me it all makes sense, and I hadn't thought how weird it would look to a stranger. It looked kind of weird before (there were fairies hanging in the windows), so I guess it's more that I don't really show strangers around my house ever.
Anyway. I wasn't fazed by the conversation, just kind of bemused and helpless to clarify as it unfolded. I found it all pretty funny, and I'm hoping I didn't discomfit the agency woman too much. It's not a common scenario, after all, though I wish it were!
October 17, 2011
Austinites: An Awesome Event in November
Mark your calendars for the next Adoption Community Group (ACG) meeting on Saturday, November 12th, from 3:00PM - 5:00PM. The meeting will feature a Foster Care Panel of both foster parents and foster-to-adopt parents. To help us best prepare, we would love to hear from you with questions you would like addressed by the panel. Please submit questions, along with your RSVP, to ACGAustin@gmail.com.
Everyone likes FREE childcare, right? Thanks to our gracious host, The Austin Stone Community Church, free childcare is available with RSVP to ACGAustin@gmail.com. Please include child's name and age. Deadline to register for childcare is October 29. Check-in will begin at 2:45PM.
Saturday, November 12th, 3:00PM - 5:00PM
For the City Center
500 E. St. John's Ave
Austin, TX 78752
RSVP to ACGAustin@gmail.com
We hope you can join us!
Everyone likes FREE childcare, right? Thanks to our gracious host, The Austin Stone Community Church, free childcare is available with RSVP to ACGAustin@gmail.com. Please include child's name and age. Deadline to register for childcare is October 29. Check-in will begin at 2:45PM.
Saturday, November 12th, 3:00PM - 5:00PM
For the City Center
500 E. St. John's Ave
Austin, TX 78752
RSVP to ACGAustin@gmail.com
We hope you can join us!
October 15, 2011
To my Fellow People-Pleasers
First of all, why can't everyone just get along? Am I right?
Secondly, I would like to share some advice. Never get involved in event planning. If asked, "will you research some information and prepare materials?" you can say yes. If begged, "could you come early and help set up/scrub toilets/assemble tables?" go right ahead. But if you are sitting in a meeting and someone asks "So who would be willing to organize this event?" hold your breath, count to five hundred, run for the door. As a people-pleaser, that growing silence will begin to crush you where you sit until you raise your hand and volunteer just because no one else is doing it. I'm begging you, refrain.
Event planning, for people-pleasers, is kind of like zookeeping for control freaks. That is if the zoos have no cages and the control freaks have OCD. It is unrelenting, illogical, excruciating torture, before, during, and after the event.
We had an event today that I've been working on since early June. It was a two hour picnic. For the past three nights, I have woken with nightmares about the potential disruptions or disasters that could occur at the event. The latest involved (and I kid you not) nuclear warfare. I agonized for days over whether to print particular brochures in color (wow! fabulous design!) or in grayscale (wow! fabulous budgeting!). And don't even get me started on the bounce house saga, which I highly suspect has taken years off my life. ["I've just sucked one year of your life away. I might one day go as high as five, but I really don't know what that would do to you. So, let's just start with what we have. What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity so be honest. How do you feel?]*
People-pleasers, you are awesome. I'm betting there are a lot of you who are interested/active in orphan care. Because the root of people-pleasing is an inability to bear the sight of other people in pain (or, at our worst, in even slightly less-than-enthusiastic happiness). There are so many gifts that you bring to the table: empathy, compassion, tireless diligence, unrelenting support for the underdog, a fierce hatred of injustice, and probably some stellar baking skills. And when you volunteer for the jobs no one else seems to want, you do it with the best intentions. But it just might kill you, and it's not really fair to everyone else.
So I have this to say to everyone out there (and even louder to myself): find the people who love to do the things that you hate to do. Find the ones who do them well, who delight in them. Be good friends to those people, and call them up the next time someone asks you to do something you absolutely hate. God has gifted all of us uniquely. Remember that when you volunteer to do something that is not your gift, you are robbing someone else of exercising their gift.
Of course, there are jobs that everyone hates, and those you just have to do (cleaning gutters, picking up dog poo, ironing, etc). But there are probably fewer of those than you think, especially if you're in the habit of volunteering for everything you assume everyone else would hate to do. Many of the times I have had the most fun serving have been the seemingly most meaningless jobs: scrubbing toilets, serving cafeteria food, changing diapers. I think if we all paid more attention to hearing what tasks and kinds of tasks delight the various people in our lives, we might all work a bit more symbiotically.
Wouldn't it be cool if, instead of asking the people we meet "what do you do?" we asked, "what do you love to do?" And then we put that to work...for the Kingdom...?
*Anyone know which movie this came from? Hint: it turned twenty this year...
Secondly, I would like to share some advice. Never get involved in event planning. If asked, "will you research some information and prepare materials?" you can say yes. If begged, "could you come early and help set up/scrub toilets/assemble tables?" go right ahead. But if you are sitting in a meeting and someone asks "So who would be willing to organize this event?" hold your breath, count to five hundred, run for the door. As a people-pleaser, that growing silence will begin to crush you where you sit until you raise your hand and volunteer just because no one else is doing it. I'm begging you, refrain.
Event planning, for people-pleasers, is kind of like zookeeping for control freaks. That is if the zoos have no cages and the control freaks have OCD. It is unrelenting, illogical, excruciating torture, before, during, and after the event.
We had an event today that I've been working on since early June. It was a two hour picnic. For the past three nights, I have woken with nightmares about the potential disruptions or disasters that could occur at the event. The latest involved (and I kid you not) nuclear warfare. I agonized for days over whether to print particular brochures in color (wow! fabulous design!) or in grayscale (wow! fabulous budgeting!). And don't even get me started on the bounce house saga, which I highly suspect has taken years off my life. ["I've just sucked one year of your life away. I might one day go as high as five, but I really don't know what that would do to you. So, let's just start with what we have. What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity so be honest. How do you feel?]*
People-pleasers, you are awesome. I'm betting there are a lot of you who are interested/active in orphan care. Because the root of people-pleasing is an inability to bear the sight of other people in pain (or, at our worst, in even slightly less-than-enthusiastic happiness). There are so many gifts that you bring to the table: empathy, compassion, tireless diligence, unrelenting support for the underdog, a fierce hatred of injustice, and probably some stellar baking skills. And when you volunteer for the jobs no one else seems to want, you do it with the best intentions. But it just might kill you, and it's not really fair to everyone else.
So I have this to say to everyone out there (and even louder to myself): find the people who love to do the things that you hate to do. Find the ones who do them well, who delight in them. Be good friends to those people, and call them up the next time someone asks you to do something you absolutely hate. God has gifted all of us uniquely. Remember that when you volunteer to do something that is not your gift, you are robbing someone else of exercising their gift.
Of course, there are jobs that everyone hates, and those you just have to do (cleaning gutters, picking up dog poo, ironing, etc). But there are probably fewer of those than you think, especially if you're in the habit of volunteering for everything you assume everyone else would hate to do. Many of the times I have had the most fun serving have been the seemingly most meaningless jobs: scrubbing toilets, serving cafeteria food, changing diapers. I think if we all paid more attention to hearing what tasks and kinds of tasks delight the various people in our lives, we might all work a bit more symbiotically.
Wouldn't it be cool if, instead of asking the people we meet "what do you do?" we asked, "what do you love to do?" And then we put that to work...for the Kingdom...?
For the body is not one member, but many. If the foot says, “Because I am not a hand, I am not a part of the body,” it is not for this reason any the less a part of the body. And if the ear says, “Because I am not an eye, I am not a part of the body,” it is not for this reason any the less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired. If they were all one member, where would the body be? But now there are many members, but one body. And the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you”; or again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, it is much truer that the members of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary; and those members of the body which we deem less honorable, on these we bestow more abundant honor, and our less presentable members become much more presentable, whereas our more presentable members have no need of it. But God has so composed the body, giving more abundant honor to that member which lacked, so that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it. 1 Corinthians 12:14-26
*Anyone know which movie this came from? Hint: it turned twenty this year...
October 14, 2011
Fostering versus Adopting
I am not, by any means, an expert, but here is what I have learned in training about the differences between fostering and adopting from foster care. I had a hard time finding this information all in one place, so I thought others might find it helpful.
This is Texas-specific.
Foster care:
How the child comes to you: Referrals are sent from CPS to your licensing agency. Your home study is submitted by your licensing agency to CPS for children matching the criteria you’ve discussed with your agency. Children arrive in your home, usually with no pre-placement visit.
Care for the child: Daily documentation is required, including medical logs if applicable. Weekly phone calls with your agency caseworker are the norm, but may vary by agency. Expect weekly, biweekly, or monthly visits with the child’s biological parents; most often they take place at the CPS office. There will also be therapist visits, probably weekly or biweekly, as well as doctor and dentist visits. Your licensing agency will be in your house at least once a month to check that you are complying with all the standards of safety; CPS has the right to arrive at any time. The child must be enrolled in public school (if over the age of three) within three days of placement. If the child is younger than three, you have to enroll them in an Early Childhood Intervention program or provide a written argument why that is not in the child’s best interest. The length of each placement is unknown; CPS’s primary goal is reunification with the biological family. You could house the child for several years and he may still be returned to his parents or another relative.
Reimbursement: The child comes with full Medicaid (Star Health). There is a basic reimbursement amount of around $600 per month per child (higher for certain populations/needs).
Keep in mind that being in foster care is, in itself, traumatizing to the child. The circumstances of their removal were traumatizing, and their life is now unpredictable, scary, and filled with strangers. The visits with bio parents can be emotionally excruciating, and waiting to see if parents will follow their service plan, will relinquish rights, or will have rights terminated is extremely difficult on the child.
Adoption:
There are three routes to adopting from foster care: foster-to-adopt; legal risk; or straight adoption. Foster-to-adopt means that you are open to adopting the children you foster if their parental rights are terminated. Legal risk means you ask for placements where CPS is about 85% sure that parental rights will be terminated. Straight adoption means you only express interest in children whose parental rights have already been terminated and who are therefore available for adoption. The information below applies to straight adoption in terms of how the child comes to you, but applies to all three kinds in terms of the process once rights are terminated.
How the child comes to you: Referrals are sent from CPS to your licensing agency or you can find a waiting child or children (you can search available children here) and ask your agency to submit your home study for that child. CPS narrows the home studies to 3-4 families, then everyone involved in the child’s case (agency caseworker, CPS case worker, CPS supervisor, guardian ad litem, CASA, therapist, and current foster parents) meets to select a family. After about a week, you are notified if you have been selected. There is then another meeting of the entire team; this time you attend as well. You get more information about the child at this meeting. You are not allowed to officially “accept” the possibility of adopting the child until 24 hours have passed. Once you accept, several pre-placement visits are set up for you and the child to get to know one another. You meet several times over the course of a month or two for gradually longer visits. Then the child is placed with you as an adoptive placement.
Care for the child: As an adoptive placement, you are not required to keep the same level of documentation (though I think the medical logs are the same). You still have weekly calls with your agency caseworker, and monthly visits from your caseworker (and potentially the child’s). The child lives with you for at least six months before the adoption can move forward. Then it usually takes another 3-4 months to finalize the adoption paperwork. So by the time you officially adopt the child, you have been with him for about a year. Once the child is officially adopted, you no longer interact with CPS and you don’t have to interact with your licensing agency. The child is yours and you can make whatever educational, medical, etc. decisions without state intervention (obviously keeping the child’s safety and wellbeing as the foremost priority).
Reimbursement: Children are eligible for a subsidy if they meet one of the following four criteria: 1. Older than six, any race 2. Older than two and a member of a minority group 3. Part of a sibling group (and you’re adopting the group) 4. Special medical needs (this is case by case, and usually only severe, lifelong issues). The subsidy includes traditional Medicaid until the child turns 18. It also includes a basic reimbursement amount of around $400 per month per child (higher for certain populations), again, until he turns 18. There are also substantial tax credits for the year of adoption. The child’s college tuition is paid in full for any public university in Texas.
Keep in mind that an adoptable child has also been traumatized, both through whatever situation brought him into care and through the process of having parental rights terminated and then waiting in foster care for a family.
Dr. Karyn Purvis estimates that it takes a month of investment parenting (using her methods) per year of the child's age in order to effect healing. Read more about her trust-based-relational-intervention method here.
This is Texas-specific.
Foster care:
How the child comes to you: Referrals are sent from CPS to your licensing agency. Your home study is submitted by your licensing agency to CPS for children matching the criteria you’ve discussed with your agency. Children arrive in your home, usually with no pre-placement visit.
Care for the child: Daily documentation is required, including medical logs if applicable. Weekly phone calls with your agency caseworker are the norm, but may vary by agency. Expect weekly, biweekly, or monthly visits with the child’s biological parents; most often they take place at the CPS office. There will also be therapist visits, probably weekly or biweekly, as well as doctor and dentist visits. Your licensing agency will be in your house at least once a month to check that you are complying with all the standards of safety; CPS has the right to arrive at any time. The child must be enrolled in public school (if over the age of three) within three days of placement. If the child is younger than three, you have to enroll them in an Early Childhood Intervention program or provide a written argument why that is not in the child’s best interest. The length of each placement is unknown; CPS’s primary goal is reunification with the biological family. You could house the child for several years and he may still be returned to his parents or another relative.
Reimbursement: The child comes with full Medicaid (Star Health). There is a basic reimbursement amount of around $600 per month per child (higher for certain populations/needs).
Keep in mind that being in foster care is, in itself, traumatizing to the child. The circumstances of their removal were traumatizing, and their life is now unpredictable, scary, and filled with strangers. The visits with bio parents can be emotionally excruciating, and waiting to see if parents will follow their service plan, will relinquish rights, or will have rights terminated is extremely difficult on the child.
Adoption:
There are three routes to adopting from foster care: foster-to-adopt; legal risk; or straight adoption. Foster-to-adopt means that you are open to adopting the children you foster if their parental rights are terminated. Legal risk means you ask for placements where CPS is about 85% sure that parental rights will be terminated. Straight adoption means you only express interest in children whose parental rights have already been terminated and who are therefore available for adoption. The information below applies to straight adoption in terms of how the child comes to you, but applies to all three kinds in terms of the process once rights are terminated.
How the child comes to you: Referrals are sent from CPS to your licensing agency or you can find a waiting child or children (you can search available children here) and ask your agency to submit your home study for that child. CPS narrows the home studies to 3-4 families, then everyone involved in the child’s case (agency caseworker, CPS case worker, CPS supervisor, guardian ad litem, CASA, therapist, and current foster parents) meets to select a family. After about a week, you are notified if you have been selected. There is then another meeting of the entire team; this time you attend as well. You get more information about the child at this meeting. You are not allowed to officially “accept” the possibility of adopting the child until 24 hours have passed. Once you accept, several pre-placement visits are set up for you and the child to get to know one another. You meet several times over the course of a month or two for gradually longer visits. Then the child is placed with you as an adoptive placement.
Care for the child: As an adoptive placement, you are not required to keep the same level of documentation (though I think the medical logs are the same). You still have weekly calls with your agency caseworker, and monthly visits from your caseworker (and potentially the child’s). The child lives with you for at least six months before the adoption can move forward. Then it usually takes another 3-4 months to finalize the adoption paperwork. So by the time you officially adopt the child, you have been with him for about a year. Once the child is officially adopted, you no longer interact with CPS and you don’t have to interact with your licensing agency. The child is yours and you can make whatever educational, medical, etc. decisions without state intervention (obviously keeping the child’s safety and wellbeing as the foremost priority).
Reimbursement: Children are eligible for a subsidy if they meet one of the following four criteria: 1. Older than six, any race 2. Older than two and a member of a minority group 3. Part of a sibling group (and you’re adopting the group) 4. Special medical needs (this is case by case, and usually only severe, lifelong issues). The subsidy includes traditional Medicaid until the child turns 18. It also includes a basic reimbursement amount of around $400 per month per child (higher for certain populations), again, until he turns 18. There are also substantial tax credits for the year of adoption. The child’s college tuition is paid in full for any public university in Texas.
Keep in mind that an adoptable child has also been traumatized, both through whatever situation brought him into care and through the process of having parental rights terminated and then waiting in foster care for a family.
Dr. Karyn Purvis estimates that it takes a month of investment parenting (using her methods) per year of the child's age in order to effect healing. Read more about her trust-based-relational-intervention method here.
October 13, 2011
Austin Match Party and Recruitment Event
· Are you in the process of or interested in learning more about adoption?
· Have you seen the individual profiles and photos of the wonderful children in Central Texas waiting for a Forever Family?
· Would you like the opportunity to meet and talk with the CPS caseworkers from our region (Austin area, Waco, & Bryan)?
If you said Yes to any of the above, then mark your calendar for Thursday, October 20th, and come to the Austin Match/Recruitment Event at For the City Center Auditorium between 4:00 - 7:00pm.
Who Can Come: Anyone interested in or already in the process of adopting. All families--from anywhere--are welcome to attend. Children are welcome, too.
Purpose: To bring families and CPS caseworkers together to talk about children waiting for adoption and to provide information to potential families on the adoption process. In addition to child caseworkers being present, the Adoption Coalition partner agencies will be available to discuss the adoption process with interested individuals or families. You can be anywhere in the adoption process—Please come!
Food: You bet! Snacks, pizza, and drinks provided.
Where: For the City Center Auditorium
500 E St. John’s Avenue, Austin, TX 78752 (512) 961-5587 www.forthecity.org/center
The Center is located on the corner of St. John's Avenue and Duval in Austin.
RSVP: To help ensure we have enough child profile packets and refreshments available, please RSVP by Friday, October 14th to Amanda Wintenburg at the Adoption Coalition of Texas, amanda@adopttexas.org or 512-301-2825.
Notes:
-- Handicapped parking is available and the room is wheelchair accessible.
-- If you have any questions, don't hesitate to call us at (512) 301-2825 or email Amanda at amanda@adopttexas.org.
· Have you seen the individual profiles and photos of the wonderful children in Central Texas waiting for a Forever Family?
· Would you like the opportunity to meet and talk with the CPS caseworkers from our region (Austin area, Waco, & Bryan)?
If you said Yes to any of the above, then mark your calendar for Thursday, October 20th, and come to the Austin Match/Recruitment Event at For the City Center Auditorium between 4:00 - 7:00pm.
Who Can Come: Anyone interested in or already in the process of adopting. All families--from anywhere--are welcome to attend. Children are welcome, too.
Purpose: To bring families and CPS caseworkers together to talk about children waiting for adoption and to provide information to potential families on the adoption process. In addition to child caseworkers being present, the Adoption Coalition partner agencies will be available to discuss the adoption process with interested individuals or families. You can be anywhere in the adoption process—Please come!
Food: You bet! Snacks, pizza, and drinks provided.
Where: For the City Center Auditorium
500 E St. John’s Avenue, Austin, TX 78752 (512) 961-5587 www.forthecity.org/center
The Center is located on the corner of St. John's Avenue and Duval in Austin.
RSVP: To help ensure we have enough child profile packets and refreshments available, please RSVP by Friday, October 14th to Amanda Wintenburg at the Adoption Coalition of Texas, amanda@adopttexas.org or 512-301-2825.
Notes:
-- Handicapped parking is available and the room is wheelchair accessible.
-- If you have any questions, don't hesitate to call us at (512) 301-2825 or email Amanda at amanda@adopttexas.org.
October 12, 2011
I heard a story the other day about a woman who had been adopted from Korea as a small child. Her adoptive mother, when they first met, reached out her arms to hug the child. And the child, desperately wanting to hug the woman, spit in her face instead.
Trauma builds walls. Christ-like love can disassemble those walls, brick by brick. But it is hard, and it is painful, and you may get spit upon.
Every time I hear this song, by Christina Perri, I think of foster kids. I'm sure it's meant to be about people in love. But to me it speaks of the wounded, the wall builders, the ones who are terrified that they will one day do something that will kill our love for them. To them I say, we are here, forever, and we love you.
"I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start
You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
You put your arms around me and I'm home
How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around
I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
The world is coming down on me and I can't find a reason to be loved
I never wanna leave you but I can't make you bleed if I'm alone
You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth
And I've never opened up
I've never truly loved 'Till you put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
You put your arms around me and I'm home."
Trauma builds walls. Christ-like love can disassemble those walls, brick by brick. But it is hard, and it is painful, and you may get spit upon.
Every time I hear this song, by Christina Perri, I think of foster kids. I'm sure it's meant to be about people in love. But to me it speaks of the wounded, the wall builders, the ones who are terrified that they will one day do something that will kill our love for them. To them I say, we are here, forever, and we love you.
"I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start
You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
You put your arms around me and I'm home
How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around
I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
The world is coming down on me and I can't find a reason to be loved
I never wanna leave you but I can't make you bleed if I'm alone
You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth
And I've never opened up
I've never truly loved 'Till you put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
You put your arms around me and I'm home."
October 11, 2011
Humbling Numbers
Did you know?
According to the Office of Children's Issues, total number of adoptions worldwide has dropped by nearly 50% since 2004. 2010 has marked an all-time low since the agency began tracking statistics in 1999.
On average, there are nearly 130,000 children available for adoption in the United States. If only 25% of all the churches in America had one family adopt a child from foster care, there would be no more waiting children.
It is estimated that there are close to 163 million orphans worldwide. If less than 8% of Christians worldwide adopted an orphan, orphanages would be empty!!
The numbers are big, but the solutions are possible.
According to the Office of Children's Issues, total number of adoptions worldwide has dropped by nearly 50% since 2004. 2010 has marked an all-time low since the agency began tracking statistics in 1999.
On average, there are nearly 130,000 children available for adoption in the United States. If only 25% of all the churches in America had one family adopt a child from foster care, there would be no more waiting children.
It is estimated that there are close to 163 million orphans worldwide. If less than 8% of Christians worldwide adopted an orphan, orphanages would be empty!!
The numbers are big, but the solutions are possible.
So when they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?” He said to Him, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.” He said to him, “Tend My lambs.” He said to him again a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me?” He said to Him, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.” He said to him, “Shepherd My sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me?” Peter was grieved because He said to him the third time, “Do you love Me?” And he said to Him, “Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You.” Jesus said to him, “Tend My sheep.”
John 21:15-17
October 10, 2011
A Puritan Prayer
O Father of Jesus,
Help me to approach thee with deepest reverence,
Not with presumption,
Not with servile fear, but with holy boldness.
Thou art beyond the grasp of my understanding,
But not beyond that of my love.
Thou knowest that I love thee supremely,
For thou art supremely adorable, good, perfect.
My heart melts at the love of Jesus,
My brother, bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh,
Married to me, dead for me, risen for me;
He is mine and I am His,
Given to me as well as for me;
I am never so much mine as when I am His,
Or so much lost to myself until lost in Him;
Then I find my true self.
But my love is frost and cold, ice and snow;
Let His love warm me,
Lighten my burden,
Be my heaven;
May it be more revealed to me in all its influences
That my love to Him may be more fervent
And glowing;
Let the mighty tide of His everlasting love
Cover the rocks of my sin and care;
Then let my spirit float above those things
Which else had wrecked my life.
Make me fruitful by living to that love;
My character becoming more beautiful every day.
If traces of Christ’s love-artistry be upon me,
May He work on with His divine brush
Until the complete image be obtained
And I be made a perfect copy of Him,
My Master.
O Lord Jesus, come to me,
O Divine Spirit, rest upon me,
O Holy Father, look on me in mercy,
For the sake of the well-beloved.
From The Valley of Vision, a book of Puritan prayers.
Help me to approach thee with deepest reverence,
Not with presumption,
Not with servile fear, but with holy boldness.
Thou art beyond the grasp of my understanding,
But not beyond that of my love.
Thou knowest that I love thee supremely,
For thou art supremely adorable, good, perfect.
My heart melts at the love of Jesus,
My brother, bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh,
Married to me, dead for me, risen for me;
He is mine and I am His,
Given to me as well as for me;
I am never so much mine as when I am His,
Or so much lost to myself until lost in Him;
Then I find my true self.
But my love is frost and cold, ice and snow;
Let His love warm me,
Lighten my burden,
Be my heaven;
May it be more revealed to me in all its influences
That my love to Him may be more fervent
And glowing;
Let the mighty tide of His everlasting love
Cover the rocks of my sin and care;
Then let my spirit float above those things
Which else had wrecked my life.
Make me fruitful by living to that love;
My character becoming more beautiful every day.
If traces of Christ’s love-artistry be upon me,
May He work on with His divine brush
Until the complete image be obtained
And I be made a perfect copy of Him,
My Master.
O Lord Jesus, come to me,
O Divine Spirit, rest upon me,
O Holy Father, look on me in mercy,
For the sake of the well-beloved.
From The Valley of Vision, a book of Puritan prayers.
October 6, 2011
I wish...
I wish I could write even half as well as Jen Hatmaker. Honestly, I have a full-on writer's crush on this amazing lady. We love the same things, I love her church (from afar), I not-so-secretly want to be her full-time free babysitter... She's awesome.
Anyway, here is an amazing post that will make you tear up a bit and should make you take action.
To quote her too-adorable-to-be-real daughter, Remy, "Texas America is I love you forever."
Amen sister, amen.
Anyway, here is an amazing post that will make you tear up a bit and should make you take action.
To quote her too-adorable-to-be-real daughter, Remy, "Texas America is I love you forever."
Amen sister, amen.
October 5, 2011
A Poem for Caroline
I'm still half-dead from all the traveling yesterday, so my brain is not really up for creative thought. Instead, I thought I'd post a poem I wrote for my niece Caroline when I was on the plane headed to visit my sister and her family. Caroline and I have a special bond in that we're both middle children of three. We also have the same love language, physical contact. We gauge our respective "snuggle meters" and stock up on hugs whenever we see each other. I wrote my niece Abby a poem a while back, and now here's one for Caroline. I'm all about finding silly ways to say I love you!
Dear Caroline,
you're joy divine--
our games, our laughs, our hugs
Oh Caroline,
sweet niece of mine,
you've got a lovely mug
My Caroline,
for you I pine
whenever we're apart
For Caroline,
with you I find,
new pieces of my heart.
Love you cutie!!
Dear Caroline,
you're joy divine--
our games, our laughs, our hugs
Oh Caroline,
sweet niece of mine,
you've got a lovely mug
My Caroline,
for you I pine
whenever we're apart
For Caroline,
with you I find,
new pieces of my heart.
Love you cutie!!
October 4, 2011
Minor Suffering, Major Selfishness
My pastor, Matt Carter, once preached that “suffering stirs up the sediment of sin,” meaning that suffering reveals sin in us that has gone unnoticed in calmer times. He was talking about cancer, and I don’t mean to belittle great suffering in any way, but I think this applies equally to smaller, slighter suffering. Even the most inconsequential annoyances can be used by God to reveal the dark patches in our hearts.
I’m sure there are people in whom travel evokes all that is noble, adventurous, friendly, and patient. In me, it brings out all that is peevish, selfish, childish, and petulant. There are few experiences which so clearly point out to me the prevalence of my comfort idol.
A week ago, as I tried to get from Austin to a tiny town in Vermont, I endured a fairly hellish travel day of delays and anxieties and claustrophobia. Today I am hoping the return trip is a smoother endeavor.
As I have been praying about this, I’ve realized just how ugly and selfish these prayers are. I don’t have any justifiable reason for wanting my travel arrangements to move forward as planned; there’s no child or board meeting or humanitarian cause that suffers by my absence or delay. And yet the wicked, whiny two-year-old within me is desperate to get home tonight, to sleep in my own bed, to jump back into the arms of my beloved Austin.
And while this selfishness appalls me, my awareness of the selfishness of my desire does not in fact diminish that desire in the least. It’s pretty humbling.
Also, as I bemoan the selfishness of these particular prayers, I am faced with another spiritual conundrum. Do I think my other prayers are not selfish? Have I been playing PR games with God, couching prayer requests in some sort of spin language, asking for things only because they will benefit Him in some way? And do I really think that I am doing Him favors by asking for these things? Or is the enemy just using this travel peevishness as a chance to build guilt into my prayer life?
Well at least I have the next twelve to who knows hours to wrestle through it all…
Have I mentioned I hate traveling? =)
I love the King James version of this verse, as the second sentence has a great way of staying in your head and stopping the anxiety spiral. There’s also a great passivity implied in the language, reminding us how little control over these things we truly have. “Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Matthew 6:34
I’m sure there are people in whom travel evokes all that is noble, adventurous, friendly, and patient. In me, it brings out all that is peevish, selfish, childish, and petulant. There are few experiences which so clearly point out to me the prevalence of my comfort idol.
A week ago, as I tried to get from Austin to a tiny town in Vermont, I endured a fairly hellish travel day of delays and anxieties and claustrophobia. Today I am hoping the return trip is a smoother endeavor.
As I have been praying about this, I’ve realized just how ugly and selfish these prayers are. I don’t have any justifiable reason for wanting my travel arrangements to move forward as planned; there’s no child or board meeting or humanitarian cause that suffers by my absence or delay. And yet the wicked, whiny two-year-old within me is desperate to get home tonight, to sleep in my own bed, to jump back into the arms of my beloved Austin.
And while this selfishness appalls me, my awareness of the selfishness of my desire does not in fact diminish that desire in the least. It’s pretty humbling.
Also, as I bemoan the selfishness of these particular prayers, I am faced with another spiritual conundrum. Do I think my other prayers are not selfish? Have I been playing PR games with God, couching prayer requests in some sort of spin language, asking for things only because they will benefit Him in some way? And do I really think that I am doing Him favors by asking for these things? Or is the enemy just using this travel peevishness as a chance to build guilt into my prayer life?
Well at least I have the next twelve to who knows hours to wrestle through it all…
Have I mentioned I hate traveling? =)
I love the King James version of this verse, as the second sentence has a great way of staying in your head and stopping the anxiety spiral. There’s also a great passivity implied in the language, reminding us how little control over these things we truly have. “Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Matthew 6:34
October 3, 2011
A Great FREE Conference!
I'm frantically writing a paper that is due tomorrow, so my typing skills are otherwise engaged. I therefore thought I'd take the opportunity to highlight a great, free, conference that is coming up in a few weeks. I attended last year, and am hoping to go again this year. It's a great gathering of resources, with lots of practical information, and small enough that it's not overwhelming. If you can go, you definitely should!
"The 2011 Tapestry Conference will be held on Saturday, October 29th, at Irving Bible Church. Registration is now open, and you are invited to join us for this free conference.
With more than twenty breakout sessions to choose from, this year’s Tapestry Conference promises to be the most informative yet. We are also delighted to welcome Jayne Schooler as the general session speaker for the 2011 Tapestry Conference. Jayne is the author of several well-known books for adoptive and foster parents, including The Whole Life Adoption Book, Telling the Truth to Your Adopted or Foster Child, and Wounded Children, Healing Homes.
There are many great reasons to attend the 2011 Tapestry Conference. Here is a list of some of the best reasons to join us.
1. Jayne Schooler is speaking!
2. You can choose from over 20 different breakout sessions covering a wide range of topics and issues that matter to adoptive and foster families.
3. Great information and insights will be presented to help prepare those who are still considering adoption or foster care (what we call “kicking the tires”) or in the waiting process.
4. Training certificates will be available at the conclusion of the Tapestry Conference for adoptive and foster parents needing continuing education credit.
5. You can meet other adoptive and foster parents from all over the North Texas area and from all over the country.
6. Adult adoptees can attend a dedicated track of sessions focused on questions and issues uniquely relevant to them.
7. We’ve lined up some great speakers and panelists to share their insights, wisdom, and experience in order to help us become better parents.
8. The Tapestry Conference Bookstore will be open during the conference with a wide range of helpful books and resources, all available at very affordable prices.
9. Licensed social workers can receive CEUs for attending the Tapestry Conference.
10. Did we mention that the Tapestry Conference it’s completely free!"
You can read more about the fantastic Tapestry ministry here.
"The 2011 Tapestry Conference will be held on Saturday, October 29th, at Irving Bible Church. Registration is now open, and you are invited to join us for this free conference.
With more than twenty breakout sessions to choose from, this year’s Tapestry Conference promises to be the most informative yet. We are also delighted to welcome Jayne Schooler as the general session speaker for the 2011 Tapestry Conference. Jayne is the author of several well-known books for adoptive and foster parents, including The Whole Life Adoption Book, Telling the Truth to Your Adopted or Foster Child, and Wounded Children, Healing Homes.
There are many great reasons to attend the 2011 Tapestry Conference. Here is a list of some of the best reasons to join us.
1. Jayne Schooler is speaking!
2. You can choose from over 20 different breakout sessions covering a wide range of topics and issues that matter to adoptive and foster families.
3. Great information and insights will be presented to help prepare those who are still considering adoption or foster care (what we call “kicking the tires”) or in the waiting process.
4. Training certificates will be available at the conclusion of the Tapestry Conference for adoptive and foster parents needing continuing education credit.
5. You can meet other adoptive and foster parents from all over the North Texas area and from all over the country.
6. Adult adoptees can attend a dedicated track of sessions focused on questions and issues uniquely relevant to them.
7. We’ve lined up some great speakers and panelists to share their insights, wisdom, and experience in order to help us become better parents.
8. The Tapestry Conference Bookstore will be open during the conference with a wide range of helpful books and resources, all available at very affordable prices.
9. Licensed social workers can receive CEUs for attending the Tapestry Conference.
10. Did we mention that the Tapestry Conference it’s completely free!"
You can read more about the fantastic Tapestry ministry here.
October 2, 2011
Goodnight, I Love You
"Goodnight, I love you!"
"I love you too, Carly."
"Thank you sweetie."
Because these words are precious, and I am grateful.
But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart. Luke 2:19
"I love you too, Carly."
"Thank you sweetie."
Because these words are precious, and I am grateful.
But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart. Luke 2:19
October 1, 2011
Connecting, Correcting, and Crying
Today I got to babysit my nieces and nephew for a few hours. My nephew Will loves to jump on the furniture, which he’s not allowed to do. So I made a “rule” that any time he jumped on the furniture, he had to do ten pushups. This playful punishment had two benefits: it gave him an immediate consequence when he disobeyed a rule and it helped work off some of his energy (it poured rain all day, so we were cooped up inside).
My two nieces, Abby and Caroline, soon joined us (we were playing imaginary soccer), and Caroline jumped on the sofa (I believe she was dive-catching the imaginary ball). I laughed and said “10 pushups!” But she staunchly refused to do them, even after much light-hearted cajoling. Of course, if you let one kid outright buck a rule, then chaos enters soon after, so I said (again, with a light hearted tone) “well if you’re not going to do the pushups then you’ll have to go to your room.” She did, erupting into much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
A bit later, as she hadn’t emerged, I went down to check on her. She was on her bed, crying with her head wrapped in her covers. She wouldn’t talk to me at first, so I just laid down beside her for a while. I spoke occasionally, asking her to tell me what was wrong. Her level of upset was way more intense than the simple circumstances warranted, and eventually, with much gentle probing, I got her to start talking. She rehashed some details of the situation where she had “gotten in trouble,” but still seemed much more upset than would be expected. I said, “it seems like there is something bigger that is upsetting you.” Again, after much gentleness, reminders to take some deep breaths, and some basic guesswork, I got to the bottom of the issue. Turns out she was upset because she feels like she gets in trouble more than her siblings, often when it isn’t her fault or she hasn’t done anything wrong.
Now, is that true? I have no idea. What’s more, it doesn’t actually matter in terms of how I handled her sadness/frustration/pain. The important thing was that she feels like she is always getting in trouble. I could have explained, with reasoned logic, that she was not actually in trouble. The whole “pushups” consequence had been a playful interaction, and I sent her to her room cheerfully, sensing that she just needed a minute to collect herself. Her refusal to do the pushups had not seemed defiant; it had been expressed with a kind of confused indignation, and I thought she just needed a moment by herself to realize the pushup rule was just part of a fun game. There was nothing punitive in my attitude or voice or in the environment, and her two siblings had to do pushups right there in front of her while she was refusing. [I did actually go through all of that before she started talking, just to reassure her that I wasn’t mad at her and she wasn’t ‘in trouble’] Her reaction to first the pushups and then the time in her room was illogical and uncalled for, and I could have explained that to her and been perfectly right. BUT, if I had done that, she would have heard the message that her feelings were wrong, that not only her behavior, but also her reaction to it, was wrong, and that I was not sympathetic with her or interested in hearing her side of the story.
Instead, I scooped her up into my arms, helped her again to take deep breaths (honestly, it is amazing how calming a few deep breaths can be!), and listened to her talk about her frustration. I told her I often felt the same way when I was a kid. We are both middle children of three, and that’s a tough road. I told her the truth, that I think she has a harder time than I did, because Will, love him though we do, is a real handful, especially to his closest-in-age sister. My younger sister Anne was all sweetness and snuggles growing up, whereas Will can be a bit of a Tasmanian devil.
As I snuggled her close, we swapped stories of how we’d both gotten in trouble in school for talking, even when it wasn’t our fault—I once got in trouble for telling someone to be quiet, and she once got in trouble just for giggling, and neither of the people we were reacting to ever got in trouble! We shared the indignation of the wrongfully accused. I told her that it was hard now, but that it would make her a stronger adult. I told her that someday God might use this anger toward injustice that she feels—He might even empower her to help people who have been treated unjustly. But mostly I held her, and heard her, and even cried with her.
A year ago, I would have hidden those tears and pretended I wasn’t crying. Today I didn’t hide them, and I think they were a sign to her that I heard her pain and hurt for her. We ended not with a problem solved, but with a pain shared, and I think that means a lot to anyone, child or adult.
Was this a perfect interaction? Not even close. I’m pretty sure the whole thing could have been avoided if I had realized earlier that she probably didn’t hear the introduction and explanation of the pushup rule. It’s not fair to expect a kid to follow a rule he doesn’t know exists, and the fault lies with me on that one. But I do think our conversation was valuable, if only to show her that I love her and am always willing to listen to her, even when I can’t offer a solution. I wouldn’t have known how to do that ten years ago. I still often don’t know how to best handle similar meltdowns from my older niece Abby. But I am learning. And I am listening.
My two nieces, Abby and Caroline, soon joined us (we were playing imaginary soccer), and Caroline jumped on the sofa (I believe she was dive-catching the imaginary ball). I laughed and said “10 pushups!” But she staunchly refused to do them, even after much light-hearted cajoling. Of course, if you let one kid outright buck a rule, then chaos enters soon after, so I said (again, with a light hearted tone) “well if you’re not going to do the pushups then you’ll have to go to your room.” She did, erupting into much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
A bit later, as she hadn’t emerged, I went down to check on her. She was on her bed, crying with her head wrapped in her covers. She wouldn’t talk to me at first, so I just laid down beside her for a while. I spoke occasionally, asking her to tell me what was wrong. Her level of upset was way more intense than the simple circumstances warranted, and eventually, with much gentle probing, I got her to start talking. She rehashed some details of the situation where she had “gotten in trouble,” but still seemed much more upset than would be expected. I said, “it seems like there is something bigger that is upsetting you.” Again, after much gentleness, reminders to take some deep breaths, and some basic guesswork, I got to the bottom of the issue. Turns out she was upset because she feels like she gets in trouble more than her siblings, often when it isn’t her fault or she hasn’t done anything wrong.
Now, is that true? I have no idea. What’s more, it doesn’t actually matter in terms of how I handled her sadness/frustration/pain. The important thing was that she feels like she is always getting in trouble. I could have explained, with reasoned logic, that she was not actually in trouble. The whole “pushups” consequence had been a playful interaction, and I sent her to her room cheerfully, sensing that she just needed a minute to collect herself. Her refusal to do the pushups had not seemed defiant; it had been expressed with a kind of confused indignation, and I thought she just needed a moment by herself to realize the pushup rule was just part of a fun game. There was nothing punitive in my attitude or voice or in the environment, and her two siblings had to do pushups right there in front of her while she was refusing. [I did actually go through all of that before she started talking, just to reassure her that I wasn’t mad at her and she wasn’t ‘in trouble’] Her reaction to first the pushups and then the time in her room was illogical and uncalled for, and I could have explained that to her and been perfectly right. BUT, if I had done that, she would have heard the message that her feelings were wrong, that not only her behavior, but also her reaction to it, was wrong, and that I was not sympathetic with her or interested in hearing her side of the story.
Instead, I scooped her up into my arms, helped her again to take deep breaths (honestly, it is amazing how calming a few deep breaths can be!), and listened to her talk about her frustration. I told her I often felt the same way when I was a kid. We are both middle children of three, and that’s a tough road. I told her the truth, that I think she has a harder time than I did, because Will, love him though we do, is a real handful, especially to his closest-in-age sister. My younger sister Anne was all sweetness and snuggles growing up, whereas Will can be a bit of a Tasmanian devil.
As I snuggled her close, we swapped stories of how we’d both gotten in trouble in school for talking, even when it wasn’t our fault—I once got in trouble for telling someone to be quiet, and she once got in trouble just for giggling, and neither of the people we were reacting to ever got in trouble! We shared the indignation of the wrongfully accused. I told her that it was hard now, but that it would make her a stronger adult. I told her that someday God might use this anger toward injustice that she feels—He might even empower her to help people who have been treated unjustly. But mostly I held her, and heard her, and even cried with her.
A year ago, I would have hidden those tears and pretended I wasn’t crying. Today I didn’t hide them, and I think they were a sign to her that I heard her pain and hurt for her. We ended not with a problem solved, but with a pain shared, and I think that means a lot to anyone, child or adult.
Was this a perfect interaction? Not even close. I’m pretty sure the whole thing could have been avoided if I had realized earlier that she probably didn’t hear the introduction and explanation of the pushup rule. It’s not fair to expect a kid to follow a rule he doesn’t know exists, and the fault lies with me on that one. But I do think our conversation was valuable, if only to show her that I love her and am always willing to listen to her, even when I can’t offer a solution. I wouldn’t have known how to do that ten years ago. I still often don’t know how to best handle similar meltdowns from my older niece Abby. But I am learning. And I am listening.
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