Category Archives: prayer

Breaking Through

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The One who breaks open the way will go up before them;
they will break through the gate and go out.
Their King will pass through before them,
the Lord at their head.   Micah 2:13

In January my pastor names the year for our congregation. 2013 focused on the Lord of the breakthrough depicted in Micah 2:13. As encouraged by this past Sunday’s message I’m taking a moment to reflect on the breakthroughs this past year.

January 2013 – received adoption finalization from the court. The adoption worker was quite tardy in filing the paperwork. The expected date was March or April 2013. But when the court received the file it flew through the necessary chains.

February 2013 – I met with Sloane* & Elise’s* birth mom. She blessed me beyond belief. At a second meeting, Sloane saw her one last time and received a blessing to move forward (see We Belong Together).

August 2013 – After a message at church reminding us of this year’s theme, I went home to hear Mike Bickle’s call to fasting for breakthrough. I wholeheartedly support fasting but have never exerted much effort in the area. It was high time I did. There were so many things requiring breakthrough in my life. When Sabrina* turned 18 in July I left the private fostering agency to work directly with Children’s Aid (see Ready? Set? Go!). The change came with a significant pay cut which is fine because I’ve never been in it for the money. After several weeks of waiting there were no calls. I fasted not to force the hand of God, but to better hear Him by clearing away the clutter in my own life.

The fast didn’t bring the marked breakthrough I was hoping. In it came a gentle nudge towards homeschooling for Sloane.

September 2013 – Elise began Junior Kindergarten at the public school down the street. Sloane stayed home with me for Senior Kindergarten (see Back to School). Since starting school the previously year, Sloane gradually stopped using the toilet. Come December 2012 she was back in diapers/pull ups all the time. Had the adoption been finalized in September, I would have pulled her out of school. But it wasn’t. So we muddled through. I tried everything. Nothing worked. Being home in the summer didn’t make a difference. But a few weeks into September she was back on track with toileting! It sounds like a small thing, but it was really big. Her anger and defiance was driving a wedge between us.

Homeschooling Sloane has helped us establish a deeper bond. Things really derailed when the adoption

Putting my curlers in her hair, "so I can look like momma!"

Putting my curlers in her hair, “so I can look like momma!”

got underway. It’s been a trying time with and for Sloane. But we’re coming through. Being home together has brought a huge breakthrough. She is becoming secure in our connection.

November 2013 – Sloane is discovered to already be a Canadian citizen!!!!! There were many delays caused by the adoption worker in securing Sloane’s citizenship. Born in the US to American parents, Sloane required citizenship in Canada where we reside. March 2013 I found out the adoption worker had done nothing despite having repeatedly told me the process was nearly complete. At that point it looked like it would be well over 3 years before completion. I was furious. Contact with the immigration lawyer was “graciously turned over” to me by the adoption worker’s supervisor. I remained frustrated. Despite having legal custody of my daughter, I couldn’t leave the country with her. There have been many technical difficulties in this adoption. The immigration is the best example. I started working directly with the lawyer. More complications arose. More time past. I grew weary in waiting. The 3 year process wouldn’t begin until the paperwork was accepted by the government. When it finally was, the reply came: Sloane is already a Canadian citizen. A name change needs to be completed, but it shouldn’t take long – certainly not 3 years!

Like me, Sloane is passionate about traveling. Neither of us like limitations. In this area the Lord has certainly broken open a way!

December 2013 – Despite significant gains in emotional health and, as a result, behviour Sloane still struggled with huge amounts of anger (see My Legs are Tired, These Days). After seeing a minor display, my mom recommended meeting with a friend of hers for some prayer. The result has been thrilling. Sloane’s guard is down and she’s enjoying life for the first time. This is the most significant breakthrough of all – the answer to a great many prayers.

It would be unrealistic to think that we might come into a season of life where breakthrough means it’s all rainbows and gum drops and there’s not a problem at all. I don’t think that is possible…one of the keys to our advancing in God is learning what a previous generation would have called “counting your blessings”…There’s something about what we carry with us that prophesies to where we’re going. ~ Matt Tapley (from the message, Preserving Breakthrough)

This year has not been all rainbows and gum drops. But the Lord has been breaking through. In the midst of my failures and shortcomings, He is faithful. That’s what I’m taking with me into this new year.

* name changed

The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.  1 Thessalonians 5:24

Counting my blessings….naming them one by one…….

Sloane (photo courtesy of Shannon Guiler)

Sloane* (photo courtesy of Shannon Guiler)

DSC_7078

Elise* (photo courtesy of Shannon Guiler)

Blessed

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Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished. Luke 1:45

believe

Years ago in the Christmas season this verse came to me. I’d read it countless times. But that year it dove deep into my heart. I was struggling to believe. Days later at work, I picked up the phone to find a woman on the other end asking if I’d like to adopt a foster child in her care. Why she ended up calling me remains a mystery. She was looking for someone else in the office but mentioned my name to the receptionist. At that point, not too many people knew about my dream to adopt. Of course the Lord was aware. He’s the one who spoke the idea into existence (see Adoption). That call came to nothing for me or the other married couple seeking a child. But it did remind me that the Lord would accomplish all He said. That year I made cards for everyone in my office featuring this verse. A few years later I tattooed believe my right arm, an ever present reminder as I continued to wait.

tattoo on right arm as a reminder to believe

tattoo on right arm as a reminder to believe

This year the wait is over. At the end of January 2013, Sloane* and Elise* legally became my daughters. The long anticipated dream of adopting came to pass. It’s been a roller coaster of emotion and experience. After some amazing prayer for Sloane a few weeks ago, I feel like we’re finally on stable ground. Today she made up a song about two babies who grew in one mom’s stomach. Because that mom couldn’t take care of them, those babies came to a new mom who adopted them. “And it’s good!” she exclaimed.

I often think of Mary, blessed with the words of Luke 1:45. Did she know everything that would transpire? As she and Joseph set out for Bethlehem, did she understand the Scriptures naming this as the Messiah’s birthplace? Or did she see it as a horrible detour? Were there moments in the journey when she struggled to believe? In my own journey there have been many times doubt crept in. Despite the tattoo, many gifts from friends with the word believe, and naming my company Believe bistro (www.believebistro.com) there have been times I’ve struggled to believe.

Long ago, in the midst of waiting, I came across the Christmas musical “Child of the Promise”. So often I sang along with the words written for Elizabeth, “it must be God when the dream never dies.” With all the trials, disappointments, and discouragement my dream never died. I continued to believe.

This year, I’m moved by the song written for Joseph. “The way I thought that it would be is that God would make our pathway smooth. Our steps together would be easy. I wanted that for you. The way I thought that it would be is God would take all pain away, our lives would happen perfectly. I wanted that for you. I wanted all that for you.”

There’s so much I want for my daughters. I have these perfect ideals. Still their past is something I can’t change. Both were born addicted to pain killers. They spent weeks in the hospital being weaned off those drugs. In praying for Sloane a few weeks ago, the Lord showed me a picture of her newly born in the hospital. He whispered to her, “It’s ok. I have a new mom waiting for you.” Somehow, through prayer, the Lord has eased the distress Sloane’s been living in. For the first time in her short life, she’s at peace. Her song is absolutely beautiful.

The Lord accomplished what He said to me. He’s given me, as a single woman, two children through adoption. I’m living in the blessing of believing.

This Christmas our family of three will be together on our own. It looks like our foster child, Joseph (see Love is Important) will be with his father. I’m rejoicing in the blessings afforded to me because of my tenacity to believe. The Lord has accomplished what He said. I know God will continue to bring beauty for ashes. I continue to believe. I am blessed. My children are blessed.

*name changed

photo courtesy of RAD Photography - Rebekah Dalgleish

photo courtesy of RAD Photography – Rebekah Dalgleish

The End

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7wks after arriving, it was time for the boys to go. Their maternal grandmother came forward to claim them. Normally when a family member is able to take foster children the process is quick – much faster than seven weeks. For whatever reason, there was a delay in this situation.

The fear of heartbreak when children leave is something that keeps many people from fostering. At first I was like that. And there were some heartbreaks along the way. This time it wasn’t too bad. In their short time with me, Deshawn* and Tyson* made great strides. I did what I could in the time that I had. Sloane* fully committed herself to their spiritual education. At home with only Tyson on week days she made up songs for him about the imminent return of Christ. Despite her constant fighting with Deshawn she burst into tears when they drove away. Elise*, who got along wonderfully with both boys, didn’t seem to care much. Being the more sensitive of the two, I expected her to shed some tears.

Foster care really is a terrible place for children. Even the most loving situation is unnatural and confusing for kids. The driver who transported the boys weekly to their visits was crushed when I told her they would likely be leaving. “But they’re so loved here with you,” she exclaimed. I pray that’s the impression they take with them.

Just before the move, the boys’ grandmother wrote me a heartfelt note. “We are truly grateful to have such a thoughtful, attentive care giver to watch the kids. Sometimes foster care isn’t the best situation but we couldn’t have asked for a better family in the situation present.” I know not all birth families will be able to respond likewise. Foster care is wildly challenging for everyone involved – birth families, kids, foster families, social workers, judges, etc.

When the boys came, I knew they were expected to go to grandma’s. Maybe that’s why the departure didn’t devastate me. Maybe there’s an extra grace on me for this season.

In the time since they’ve left (this blog was delayed due to a broken computer), I’ve painted and rearranged my entry way. I went on a crazy spree and completed all my Christmas shopping (minus any new foster children, though I do have a variety of extra gifts for boys/girls of any age should kids arrive at the last minute).

The time with Deshawn & Tyson was hectic. My body is thankful for the end of that chapter. (Tyson, a typical baby, wanted to be carried most of the time. However his weight and size in no way mirrored a typical 16mth old. Not able to refuse him, my arms grew weary to a degree I never imagined possible.) It was a good chapter in my life as a foster mom, but I’m ok with the ending. And, having caught my breath, I’m ready for the next adventure.

*names changed

 

These Days

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Please don’t confront me with my failures,

I had not forgotten them.

These Days by Nico

I’m part of a prayer ministry at my church. Most Mondays I listen to people pour out their hearts. My job is to facilitate dialogue between them and God. It’s incredibly exciting. I love partnering with Holy Spirit. In conjunction with a conference at church ministry appointments were being offered this past Friday. We had a trusted team visiting to help cover all the requests. Two people who’d booked appointments didn’t show up. That led to myself and another team member receiving ministry from one of the visitors.

Sloane - November 2011

Sloane – November 2011

The struggles with Sloane* were my focus. Sometimes it seems like we’re making progress then it all comes apart again. Our prayer model took a back seat. “The fact is you’ve purchased damaged goods,” said the woman ministering. Strange as it sounds, relief washed over me. I’ve been falling into the trap of comparing my child to other 5yr olds. Children who weren’t exposed to high doses of prescription drugs in the womb, didn’t spend the first 6wks of life in hospital being weaned off drugs, weren’t neglected, mistreated, abandoned, or any of the other things Sloane’s experienced are much more well adjusted. Sloane is struggling. She is damaged.

Though not biologically connected, Sloane and I are immensely similar. In school work, she won’t even attempt writing a word or letter unless sure she can master it. Anything she might fail at is avoided. It’s been disheartening having my perceived failure on display every time Sloane tantrums, speaks harshly, or acts inappropriately. I read other adoption blogs and hear about how well kids are doing.

Stores used to have a damaged rack (not sure if any still do, I don’t get out much these days). Being crafty and a bargain shopper, I used to peruse these spots. The range of damage went from a small water spot easily removed in the wash to massive unraveled holes in sweaters. Seems Sloane’s on the far end of the continuum.

“Because of all that’s happened, her heart is hard,” the woman went on. “All the love you pour on her isn’t going to get through.” We discussed the necessity of healing for Sloane’s heart. I’ve tried applying some of the strategies I know. “You’re not the one to do it,” was the insight given. “It’s not going to work when you try.”

We prayed through a few things. That night, with the other kids asleep, I prayed with Sloane.

The next, a rainy Saturday, had all the kids out of sorts. After some early morning shopping, we were home. I was trying to dish out cheesies (a terrible impulse buy while out). Sloane had been stirring up trouble over the treat. After several warnings I gave her rice crackers instead.

“You idiot!” she screamed her new favourite word. “I’m not having this!” Slamming down the bowl some crackers tumbled to the floor. Sloane jumped up, ran from the table to the counter and deposited the bowl with the remaining crackers. On her run back to the table, amidst ongoing screaming – things like, “You better get me what I want right now!” – her foot landed on a shard of cracker. It lodged in the bottom of her foot. In slow motion I watched as blood began shooting out. Mildly distracted from her rant, as though a fly had landed on her, Sloane looked down at the floor speckled with blood. I rushed over, trying to pick her up. Her body went stiff. Remembering her rage, she resisted. Pushing and kicking she vehemently told me to, “Get away!”

Not my shining moment as mother, I said, “Fine. Handle this on your own. I really want to help you, but if you don’t want me to I won’t.” Looking away, I got the first aid kit. She sat on a kitchen chair trying to scoop up the falling blood with her hands. Wailing, eventually she admitted her inadequacy. I pulled the cracker out and will spare you the gory details. As I worked, we remained at an impasse. Sloane’s body was rigid and her tone harsh. I must admit, she wears me down. Too often there’s an edge in my voice. As her mom, I want to pull her close. She’ll have none of it, so I point out the fact that she wouldn’t have cut her foot on a cracker if she hadn’t been freaking out.

The other children ate their bowls of cheesies, watching the show. I let them have more and more to keep them quiet and settled. They ate Sloane’s rejected crackers. They begged for more food. Snack was shut down when the blood was cleaned off the floor (they weren’t really hungry but trying to cope in their own way).

Her foot is fine, though she brings it up when I ask her to do something she’d rather not. This is not the result I was expecting after my ministry time and the prayers I prayed with Sloane. As always, I’m confronted by my own failures. After such ordeals I spend senseless energy thinking of how I should have done better. Still I keep failing to be the demure, compassionate mother I want to be.

"All mommy's necklaces!" July 2011

“All mommy’s necklaces!” July 2011

All the children in bed, I’m lamenting with the song, These Days. I’d like these days to end. I bring my inadequacies to the Lord. He’s the only one who can break through and repair the damage.

Though currently true, damaged is not Sloane’s permanent state. My daughter is one who overcomes. There’s a new name for her. No longer damaged or out of control. These days will give way to the glory God has planned for her.

 “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes I will give some of the hidden manna to eat. And I will give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name written which no one knows except him who receives it.”’

Revelation 2:17 (NKJV)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

determination - July 2011

June 2011 – Determination! Sloane believed the only place to be was on top of her play house. Despite my discouragement, she scaled the plastic walls.

My Act of Worship

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Life with four children under the age of 6 is challenging. (For more info on how that happened see From 2 to 4.) Adding to my own obligations, I’m using cloth diapers and continually baking since Sloane* can’t have wheat. Store bought items are pricey and often unimpressive. I’ve also decided to take up sewing again. The foster children’s clothing allowance is meager. I like all the kids in my care to look their best. At a clothing exchange in August I picked up ample girl’s clothing without any idea I’d soon have boys. Recently more girls’ clothing came my way from lady at church. It seems a little girl is in the future. But for now I’m making cute plaid jumpers in blue and green. I’m exhausted.

A few days into this adventure, baby Tyson* stopped sleeping through the night. His cry – resembling a furious roar – began just as I climbed into bed. Fearing he’d wake his brother, Deshawn* (the two share a room), I hurried to get him. 4hrs later we were still up. Tyson would slip into sleep while I held him. Whenever I tried lowering him into the crib, he’d start and let out an ear piercing howl. Back we’d go to my room and try it all again. Finally I got him to settle in the crib. There are two things I need to function – three to do well. 1. A good night’s sleep. 2. A shower first thing in the morning. 3. A creative outlet. Tyson robbed me of all three. After a fitful night, he’d be up for good by 5am. And there was no convincing him to keep quiet while I showered. Exhausted all day he’d want to be held continually. Completely depleted myself, I wasn’t doing anything beyond the bare minimal to keep us going – which included 3 meals and 2 snacks a day, at least 2 loads of laundry a day (one of diapers, the other clothing because it’s a given that at least one child will soil themselves any given day), dishes, sweeping/moping the floor, coaxing children to tidy up, getting 2 kids to school 5 days a week, getting the foster children ready for visits 2 days a week, buying groceries, and trying to stretch my clothing allowance to get everything the boys need.

In the midst of my exhaustion, I’ve been dealing with increasing hostility between the three older children – one 5yr old and two 4yr olds. Deshawn is quick to tell my girls, “I’m telling my mom on you,” when they do anything at all he dislikes. For instance if they won’t give him something they’re using. While using their toys, he says, “I’m taking this home with me when I go.” This results in an explosion from Sloane* and Elise*. “You can’t do that! It’s not yours!” There are limits to their generosity especially since they’re both battling their own sense of loss. Being adopted does that to kids. Being a foster kid is hard. I feel for Deshawn. There’s so much turmoil and confusion for him. While struggling to complete necessary daily tasks, I’ve been dealing with continual arguments.

A dear friend – and former foster parent – stopped by the other night with her husband and their son. During our brief visit, I lamented Tyson not sleeping. While leaving, she put her hands on his head. The prayer was simple, “Peace. We pray peace for you.” Since then there’s not been a sleepless night!

Yesterday I was with another friend and mentioned the conflict with the three kids. She prayed peace into my home. When my herd assembled after school, there was no hostility. We made it through the evening with very few incidents. All three were much more subdued. At dinner Deshawn said, “This is a good house!” (Instead of using the word family I tend to say things like, “At this house we…..”) And this morning he commented, “Your girls are really beautiful.” These compliments weren’t rolling off his tongue previously.

Prayer. It really does change things. I’m ashamed to admit it isn’t always my first response. Before I started fostering I’d spend hours in prayer – often for the children the Lord would one day bless me with. Now that I have them, everyday care seems to overshadow that communion. I used to despair at my lack of prayer. Then the Lord assured me, He understands. I’m a single mom. I don’t have hours to spend in worship or prayer. For now taking care of these children is my act of worship. The Lord faithfully causes others to pray for me. In addition to the two friends already mentioned, often someone from the church – a friend or acquaintance – will say, “You and your kids have really been on my heart this week. I’ve been praying for you.” At times the Lord has woken people in the night to intercede for my kids. I’ve not always been able to track the results of those prayers, like I can with the two recent declarations of peace, but there’s so much more than what I can see. To everyone one of you who pray when the Lord prompts – thank you. Your prayers make my worship possible.

*name changed

from a fellow single adoptive/foster mom (check out her blog: www.seeingjoy.com

from a fellow single adoptive/foster mom. Check out her blog: www.seeingjoy.com