Grief and Relief

 It has been a strange couple of days at the Cash house. 

We miss the girls. I specifically miss the way that the littlest would whisper "Hi. Hi. Hi." through her pacifier when I woke her up from her nap (and how she'd likewise greet EVERY PERSON ON THE PLANET). I miss the way she would melt into my body in the rocking chair, holding my arm with the sweetest little death grip. I miss the way the oldest would flutter upstairs to get dressed in the morning (she never did just walk) with her mermaid hair bouncing behind her. I miss her general excitement about everything - outings, food, information, and new people. All of the mothering energy I'd created for them now has no place to land - I can't direct, soothe, encourage or teach them anymore. The first night, I laid awake wondering if they were sleeping okay in their new beds. Phoenix and Jericho have both, more than once, volunteered that they miss the girls. Our life and home were SO FULL and now there is a void: it's less like a cavernous hole, and more like a wispy cloud of lost experience. We don't really know what to do with ourselves.

BUT, the four of us have been breathing much deeper. I can't even explain the general feeling of health that's fallen on our home ... everyone just seems to be functioning from a place of peace for the first time in months. I know it is partially logistics - no toddlers, no diapers, less laundry, less fighting, fewer attitudes, etc. - but there is something more. Previously, being at home was largely about surviving, just making sure everyone was alive, fed, and occasionally bathed. But for the last few days, I've been enjoying my home and my kids. Slow meals, quiet mornings, lots of snuggles, no appointments or visits or paperwork, long bathtimes and lots of eye contact are small graces that compile into huge joy. I think my kids subconsciously shrank to make space for A&A, and I didn't notice it until this week when I've watched their little souls expand again. They are holding longer conversations, living more freely, asking to read more books, finding themselves more frequently on our laps and in our arms. Being a family of four again has been so deliriously sweet. 

I just keep thinking about the significance of my two hands. I'm sure God has a myriad of reasons for creating our bodies in specific ways, and I certainly don't claim to understand those motivations. But, very practically, having two hands means that I can carry more than one thing. So, when it seems contradictory to feel two very opposite emotions at the same time, my hands seem to mirror my soul's ability to stand decidedly in both joy and pain. It's grounding to look at my physical fingers and imagine them grasped around separate experiences, validating my dichotomous experience of losing 'our' girls.

In those same two metaphorical hands, I hold the truths that (1) the girls were a genuine blessing to our lives and (2) the girls were an exhausting drain on our lives. I was feeling guilty about how much I'm enjoying this new season until my counselor kindly reminded me that fostering puts an amazing amount of strain on even the healthiest, most faithful families. Which is why, for the moment, we won't be accepting any new placements. We are going to give our family soil some time to remineralize before we even discuss re-opening our home. 

We are so grateful for all the people that have carried us through the last eight months - we would not have survived this experience without the support and prayers of friends both near and far. And PLEASE PLEASE continue to pray for the girls! Pray for them to powerfully bond with their new parents, to settle easily into new routines/places/therapies/etc, for a case without major hiccups or delays and for them to trust Jesus as the restorative force for their lives. 

Sustenance for the Journey

Illustration by Jago

I am a weary foster momma.
I think some of that weariness is universal to parenthood, and we are caring for four very small kiddos at one time. Having stair-step siblings in this particular age bracket is an insane undertaking.
But adding two foster kids to our team didn't just mean two more small kids ... the slew of fostering logistics is overwhelming.
For example, our fostering schedule this week involves:
- Monday: a potential birthmom visit, which was up in the air until the last minute
- Today: a speech evaluation at the local school
- Wednesday: a home visit from our private agency
- Thursday: a home visit from CPS
- Friday: play therapy and a home visit from the girls' attorney
Throw in visits from CASA, speech therapy, occupational therapy, preschool and all the paperwork, and it becomes a full-time job.
And, not only does fostering dominate our schedule, but it also dominates my thought-life.
"Am I getting them the interventions they need?"
"Where is their mom? Should I start calling hospitals?"
"How much should I push for their best, and how much should I permit their worst?"
"How do I keep them healthy without constant food battles?"
"How can I help heal them when there is so much unknown?"
"Is this four-year-old behavior, or is this trauma behavior?"
"What is our life going to look like in three months?"

To be honest, I feel like I'm drowning -- I was a confident swimmer until I decided to land myself in the middle of a typhoon. And all arenas of my life are sinking too. I'm less available to my forever kiddos, I'm less prepared as a home school mom, I'm less stable as a wife (ha!), I'm less committed in my ministries, I'm less diligent in other responsibilities, I'm less present in my friendships and I have less bandwidth to love/serve outside our home.

I want to quit.
But God won't let me quit.

As much as I want to be frustrated at God for keeping me in a place that feels so hard and thankless and desperate, God keeps being near and kind.

I've been reading The Chronicles of Narnia out loud to Phoenix at night. A month ago, when we were still in 'The Magician's Nephew,' I could barely finish reading because my eyes and voice were brimming with tears. Digory, the main character, is standing before Aslan, the creator and leader of Narnia. A series of unwise mistakes have caused Digory to bring with him a person of great evil into the fledgling world. Aslan is giving Digory a task to help save/protect the land, but Digory is distracted with worry about his mother, who is dying at home.

"'But please, please -- won't you -- can't you give me something that will cure Mother?' Up till then he had been looking at the Lion's great feet and the huge claws upon them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself."

Aslan doesn't instantly heal Digory's mother, nor does he release him from the task at hand. Digory is expected to carry his own pain forward into obedience. But Aslan is fully present with him in his pain. While our two girlies surely carry the greatest sadness in this season, I have my own legitimate grief. But (wonder of wonders) my roaring lion of a God is bent near to me, shedding tears on my behalf.

Over breakfast, we read a Bible story to our kiddos, and then a page from Thoughts to Make Your Heart Sing. The other morning, I read this (which references the illustration above):

"God's Spirit is called the 'Comforter.' Does it make you think of a nice comfy quilt - all cozy and warm? Oh dear.

In the Bayeux tapestry of 1066, there's a knight on a horse and the caption reads: 'Bishop Odo comforts his troops.'Is Bishop Odo giving them nice fluffy quilts? No. Look! He's prodding them from behind with a stick! NOT comfy.

But Odo is spurring them on, encouraging them, urging them to keep going and not give up. Because comfort in the Bible doesn't mean 'to make comfy.' It means 'to send help.'

When we want to give up, when we are afraid, God sends his spirit - the Comforter - to make us strong, to give us courage, to lift us up."

My latent desires for a predictable, comfortable life are being beaten out of me by the fostering process. God doesn't comfort me with retreat or rest, no matter how much I beg for relief. Instead, God is asking me to lean into the pain, to put aside self-preservation, to trust God with my family and to keep pushing Kingdom lines forward.

I have the wine of divine tears and the bread of divine encouragement as sustenance for the journey. Those traveling mercies are yours too, whether you happen to be on the same road or have your own path of exhausting obedience.

New Job

Guess it's time to update my small blog following on something new in my life ... a job! Well, it's really not all that new anymore ... I accepted the job about 6 weeks ago.

I am working for 12Stone® again, but this time at our Flowery Branch campus. The existing administrative assistant at the campus didn't have the margin in her schedule for all that was being asked of her, so I am taking some stuff off her plate (about 15 hours/week). In other words, I am doing data entry, check requests, corporate card reconciliations, errands, etc. Thrilling? Well, no. Not really.
But I have several reasons to be thankful for this job:

• No matter how menial the task, it is extremely life-giving for me to contribute to the world outside our home. I love being at home with Phoenix and all that entails, but it is good for my spirit to have tasks and accomplishments not related to her. Plus, I get to have adult conversations more often ... thank the Lord!
• I can do most of my work from home ... which means we don't have to put Phoenix in daycare. Translation: I can continue to fight for no TV, lots of quality time, snuggles, healthy food, and all the other things that matter to us at this stage in her development (and working mostly from home means I can go on looking like a hot mess 80% of the time). However, this does mean I have to find around 10 baby-free hours in my week ... which means waking up a couple hours before Phoenix. Maybe when it's all said and done, I will have turned into a morning person.
• It pays money. This may seem like an obvious one, but having this extra income is a game-changer for us. We were pretty much just making it month-to-month, and now we will actually be able to save! This has lifted a lot of financial pressure from our little family, and Josh and I are both breathing much easier.
• I love the people I work with. Obviously, I love being around 12Stone®, but I especially love the Flowery Branch team. Several of them are friends that I see regularly, and everyone that I have more recently met seems awesome! Being on the bottom of the totem pole isn't so bad when you get to serve amazing leaders/ministers.

To check out my HEINOUS staff picture and profile, check out http://12stone.com/staff-member/emily-cash/. And no, I don't have a snaggle tooth ... it just looks like it.