It has been said that grief is not a line, but a circle. It is never "over," even though the pain may lesson over time...unless there is a trigger that knocks you to the ground, takes your breath away, and wracks you with sobs.
A year ago, (according to my facebook, "on this day"), I posted that our family would be +1. Within a few weeks, it actually became +2. I didn't even ask for the second, their mom just told me she would stay because it was best for the girls to be together. For twelve months, I did laundry for 9-an unbelievable amount of work! I did dishes for 9-we don't have a dishwasher. (Richard does do those a lot, though, so perhaps I kinda have a dishwasher.) I did meals for 9. When they first moved in, the younger ate more that I did. A 25 pound little girl was so malnourished, she ate more than a 5'11" woman who works out everyday.
Over the next few months, we rearranged our entire home. We gave up the master bedroom to move the kids into it, since it is quite a bit larger than the other room. Oh, yes. We live in a 2-bedroom condo...we aren't exactly the "Fritz" here. We bought furniture, clothes, toys, school supplies, every single thing they needed. We trained and trained our 5 to love them-they were "different" and it was a struggle. We had to change our vehicles, and ended up driving two vans every single time we were all together. I joked we were the Grand Caravan caravan each Sunday morning. They became our family, and we started to think long term.
My heart was always "long term." I loved them before I even met them, and begged God to make it happen. For the first time in my adult life, I talked to people who terrified me. Social Services ended up being called by an outside person, and I had to talk to them. In the end, they literally told me it was me that kept them safe. I started making other phone calls, and found out our +2 were living in our home illegally. Since we are not, nor could we be, an approved foster care home or family of the girls, it was illegal for the girls to live with us. So, we started looking into guardianship. We all talked, and it was agreed upon. We decided to move forward, fully believing it would all work out. We found a lawyer, and got the paperwork we needed to start. All we needed was a signature...
There are a few more details, but needless to say, the bottom fell out of our plan. I was a signature away from being #2 momma, and it all stopped. One thing Richard and I were deeply convicted of was that we would not "fight." We fully believed the Lord had called us to this process in peace. We knew we could do a "contested guardianship," but for the sake of the girls, and based on our convictions, we refused to go that route. One of the things I am struggling with, is that I told her how much I love her girls, and how afraid I was that she would take them away. As her circumstances increased, she decided to use my fear against me. When I would not cave to her threats or ultimatums, the decision was up to her. After sixteen months of having the girls as often as needed, almost without warning, they were gone.
Little did I realize, but I had begun to wrap my identity around having them in our home. It was always work, and honestly I was more of a referee most days than anything, but I saw myself with them around. And, as the calendar would have it, school was just around the corner. Within the period of three weeks, we went from 7 kids in our home 24 hours/day, to 1. The loss of our +2 was fairly devastating to me. (And I am fully aware that "devastation" is a pretty major thing...) I could not walk past the kiddos room without checking if they were there. I would think I heard their voices as our kids played together. I thought I heard the ringtone of their mom a few times. When your identity slowly wades away from where it should be into something or someone, the loss of that item will probably knock you out. It did for me. As a side note, I did not stop reading my Bible. I did not stop praying. I did not stop my routine of fasting. I had "simply" added to who I am in Christ, and the removal sent me into a tailspin of near depression. As my four olders headed back to school, my sadness was deep and overwhelming. My poor husband... I was "losing" my entire identity.
With every passing hour, day, and week, God's Truth that has been poured into me did not return void. Godly preaching, an incredibly loving and godly husband, and the daily clinging to His Word did was it is all supposed to do. It revealed my sin and grew me (at least a little bit, I hope!). Did it take the pain away? Not so much. Because loss is just that, loss. It changed the pain, though. There was a quiet revelation of what God needs me to do now...and by "now", I mean today. I have no idea what tomorrow may bring, just like I had no idea a simple phone call would lead to 2 little girls entering our home (the same day!) for 16 months, and forever changing my heart.
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