Sharing the Load -- (Exodus 17:12; Matthew 11:28; Ecc 4:9-10)

A couple of weeks ago, I posted about trauma and the impact it has on our family. The impact it continues to have. I have shared on social media some details of our continuing story. It's a tricky balance between telling OUR story as it impacts me, and honoring the girls' privacy and right to control THEIR story. I'm by nature pretty open. The girls, however, are not yet at the place where they are ready to let everyone into their messy world. I do respect that. 

This is a challenging season for my family. And while I cannot always explain exactly why or what is going on, I can say that we are so thankful for the support of our family, friends, and community. Every day.

I am also thankful for my faith. And maybe this is the time to share a bit more of my own story.

I grew up around the Catholic church. My folks always believed in the ideals of religion. They believed in God, Jesus, and the 10-Commandments. They believed in truth, love, neighborliness. They taught me to honor those things, and laid a good foundation.

Awww...I was so cute! Love those shoes!

We didn't go to church every week (more like once a month...ish). I did go to mid-week classes, and I had my first communion. I did VBS, and knew about felt-story boards. I read children's bible stories. I learned to ask the interesting questions (get my mom to tell you about Father Murphey!).

When I was 11-ish I spent the summer out of state with my aunt and uncle and cousins. It was my first big trip away from home. I think it was also my first encounter with live-out-loud Christians. The kind of believers that frame everyday decisions around actual discussions about God's will and plan for us here on earth. Family prayer time people. Grace at every meal people. Church is fun people. Memorizing scripture people.

It was there that I first heard about having a "personal relationship with Christ."

In many ways, that phrase has become a trite throw-away - another church code that is off-putting to outsiders. But to me, it has been my life-line. Ever since that summer when I came to know the Lord, I've been on a journey of relationships.

There are entire books about the "names of God" or the different facets of God. Our God is multifaceted and awesome. For me, the facet of God that I always return to is the ever faithful friend.

So now, as my family navigates some very challenging times it is that faithful friend I turn to most.

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

- Matthew 11:28

And some of the rest He has given me is in the fellowship of wonderful people. Family and friends. People sharing their own struggles and triumphs. People reaching out with (virtual) hugs and prayers and compassion and understanding.  People I've known for decades and people I've only known for months. We were made to live in community - and this is exactly why.

Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow.  But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! 

-Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

I struggle. I struggle with my own boogey-men of anxiety and depression (both clinical, and yes, I'm being treated). I struggle with trust. I struggle with confidence.

But I don't struggle with faith. I know that I can count on my Lord and the people he sends me. I know that however dark it gets, He is there for me - and so are those amazing individuals who stand with me, with our family.

Sometimes it's so overwhelming. Sometimes we get worn out.
It's good to have friends to share a cup of tea, a few laughs, and a moment outside the whirlwind!

This is (most of) my ladies grow group from church.
We came together for tea and coloring last week, between storms.

When it comes to practical help, so many of you have asked (wonderfully) what you can do.
If there is something, I promise I will reach out. But for the most part we are dealing with the figurative demons of the healthcare system and the more literal demons of emotional scarring. The only weapons I know with which to fight demons are prayer and persistence. So please, pray with me - pray for us. Don't stop. This is just one part of what will be a very long, weary journey. And reach out. If we can, we will always answer. If we can't, then pray even more.

But Moses' hands grew weary, so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side. So his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. 

-Exodus 17:12

I love you, my friends, my readers. You are truly gifts from God (yes - even those of you who don't believe!). Thank you.

Trauma (Psalm 61:4; Matt 18:21-22; PS139:13-16)

So, friends - you probably noticed that I stopped blogging quite a while back. I'm just not sure this medium is still relevant in the era of facebook headlines and livestreams and video. But for me, it's relevant. Writing is a process, and when I'm writing, it helps me process. So know, then, that I write for myself more than for y'all. But I still appreciate you, dear friends - for your kind words and prayers.

Today's topic is trauma. Or forgiveness. I'm not sure which - because they are so closely related

Doesn't her mouth just say it all? The worries of the world on this one.
And this was a sunny day at the park. 

Matthew 18: 21-22

21 Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”

22 Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times."

Much has been said and written about this verse. It's not hard to get the general idea - we have to forgive more than we ever thought possible. Forgiveness is the cornerstone of lasting relationships.

But what about when the person you have to forgive is not your brother or sister, but someone you've never met? Someone who you are unlikely to ever meet? Someone with whom you don't want a relationship? What if their sin continues to impact your life?

This is my struggle - and the struggle of so many parents who have adopted through the foster system.

No child is placed in the foster system without trauma. That's not how it works. You don't take happy, well-adjusted kids from caring, well-structured homes and put them in the system. Our children, our girls, came from a background of physical and emotional abuse. From food scarcity. From a place without consistency or care. Although I don't know for sure, it's likely the abuse started before they were born. Poor pre-natal care and/or drug & alcohol abuse while they were in the womb may have affected their neurological development. They were born with more obstacles to overcome than most of us will ever face.

And yet... the Bible tells me that God knew.

Psalm 139:13-16

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that well.15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

Curled up in our bed, hiding from a world that's too much.

So maybe it's God I need to forgive? Maybe I need to be mad at the God who saw the days of suffering ahead and allowed them to be "knit together" anyway? The simple fact is, I don't understand. I don't understand why our babies have to go through this. I don't understand what "greater purpose" could be served by the gallons of tears. But I learned a long time ago to trust Him and His plans.

And, I know we live in a fallen world. I believe, I trust, I know, that God did not intend for my babies to suffer. That is a direct result of the prince of this world (the devil) influencing the life of their birth-mother. And who knows what darkness she may have faced. The trauma probably didn't start with her. Still, I have faith that He will bring something good out of this suffering. Something amazing out of the lives of these wounded little birds.

And the ripples. Oh, the ripples.
Every bout of trauma touches so many more people. So many more who wonder why our girls have so much to endure. So many who won't ever understand the whole story.

And... it gets harder and harder to explain to the non-believers around me how I can still believe in an all-powerful God when there is much hurt and pain. I get it. I get their confusion. Right now, I can't answer those questions. I can't. I just trust. I trust and I cry and I move slowly forward through the muck and the pain and the suffering.

So, I keep slogging onward. And praying. Praying and praying and praying. For the girls (to be well, to feel God's love). For their daddy, their momma, and their step-dad (to be strong, to trust God). For their siblings - each other, and the other siblings out there. For their friends, teammates, and teachers. For our broken world and it's ignorant leaders - like the one who said just this week that people with intense medical needs must not have led good lives (my girls are 11 and 13 - what "lives" have they led?!). For other families who are suffering... because my own empathy grows stronger each day we endure.

And I look forward to the eternal rejoicing. The heaven we were promised. Where, after this earthly race is run (and we are completely exhausted with the running), we will get to sit at the feet of the Lord and be amazed at the beauty of the bigger picture. I long for that day.

Psalm 61:4

I long to dwell in your tent forever, and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.

Look at that grin!

Huzzah!