How to Sprint a Marathon

We had another hearing.  The fifth or sixth "last" hearing. (I've lost count.)  We went in knowing the plan.  Bethany Christian Services would argue that because there have been no major substance abuse issues in the past year, the children should go back home ASAP.  "Sink or swim" was the term that was used.  Living situation with mom is admittedly iffy, but the children need to put down roots--somewhere.  No more of this interminable limbo.  

The children's attorney would go in and argue (yet again) for termination.  Termination because of their Mom's terminal non-compliance in everything else besides substance abuse.  "Death by a thousand cuts" was the way he put it.  Again, no more life in the waiting room. 

We were all on the same page.  The uncertainty is killing these children.  It is messing with their ability to bond, to develop trust.  I wrote a letter to the judge. 

 "We feel it is wrong to force a child to wait interminably for a parent to decide if they are important enough to work for.  Kaiden and Keira have been waiting for over two years to find out the answer to that question, and we fear they will carry the pain of that uncertainty in their hearts forever. For the preservation of Kaiden and Keira’s emotional health, and the protection of our own children’s hearts, we pray that these two will not be forced to linger in a state of prolonged uncertainty any longer. "

I testified in front of the judge and saw the clerks nodding their heads as I made each point.  The evidence was laid out cold. Inescapable.

Everyone was on the same page, at least on one point.  "This must end.  One way or the other."

So what happened?

The judge gave her another three months.  And then another month or two after that for transitioning. Bringing us to springtime, and a grand total of two and one half years of parenthood and everything that goes with it.  

All this time.  

Thousands of conversations, countless bedtimes and baths, skills learned, routines developed, prayers prayed, feelings explored, habits formed, traditions laid down, birthdays and holidays celebrated. 

A million tiny awakenings in their beautiful minds while their mother tries to figure out if they are worth the effort, and her son feels more and more rejected and her daughter forgets she ever had a different family than ours.  

And our family forgets what is feels like to function without the state peering through our windows and strangers dropping in for surveillance and "friendly interrogation". 

Three more months?  Like it is just something we drift through?  Like it isn't filled with the death of a thousand tiny dreams for privacy and peace?  And fear of reprisals for comments we have made?  And feelings of helplessness and sadness and exhaustion?  

It was a hard afternoon.  

I had a feeling at one point like I had just run a race--all out--and been told at the end that--SURPRISE! There's another one!  Starting right now! GO!

But then, like petals falling on the surface of my discontent, came remembrances of grace.  

I have teenage daughters who are bright lights in our family.  They are music and grace and patience and love.  

I have young boys who make me laugh every day and amaze me with flashes of forgiveness and their ability to return good for evil.

I have a husband who gives and gives...and then gives more, but never draws attention to the sacrifice.  In 20 years we have never run out of things to talk about.  He adores me and his girls and he is purposeful about teaching his boys how to be men.  So wise.  So good.  

I have friends who pray for me and make me laugh.  Who babysit for free and listen to me talk about my dreams and dramas and give me good advice.  And brownies (thank-you, Nichole:)

I have godly and loving parents who have carried me since I was born and still carry me to this day (albeit in different ways:)

I have my home, mountains of good books by my bed, my popcorn popper, my favorite candle, Christina's chocolate chip cookies (pretty much on demand), Rebekah's blueberry pie, cobalt blue dishes, Jude's hugs, Isaiah's smile, Elijah's valiant heart, pink running shoes, safety where I live, my wonderful church and Bible study group, Keira to play with my hair while I read, Kaiden to teach me about love and forgiveness and the depths of my own need for a Savior.  

And oh!  How grateful I am for that Savior.  Our pastor reminded us last night about what it means to have an omnipresent God.  Not one that just sends his eyes, or his mild interest from afar, or even just his list of instructions and expectations, but one who comes, as Pastor Ford put it "with His entire wardrobe of attributes" to be here with us.  

The God of the universe, fully present in power and holiness, majesty, wisdom, and love.  As real as the desk where I sit.  As close as the air I am breathing.  Always and every minute available to me. 

At this season especially, it is so good to contemplate the reality of Emmanuel--our "God with us." 

My dismay over the task before me needs to be re-framed in the reality of the Strength I have available to me.  It is a matter of setting aside what I feel and even what I see, and resting in what I know.  In what has been proved to me over and over.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

"My strength is made perfect in weakness."

"I will never leave you or forsake you."

" I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you."

It is not something that comes as a divine diagram, or a day by day itinerary for the next month.  It comes in the needful moments--as the power to speak a word softly in an angry instant, in the ability to love someone at an unlovely time.  

I see Emmanuel in timely flashes of other-worldly wisdom, in noble gestures, in sacrifices made and made again through a power I know I do not have.  I have at times had the compulsion to speak when I didn't want to and the strength to be quiet when I wanted to cry out.  Joy in the middle of sadness.  Peace in turmoil.  When I seek it.  When it is required.

It never comes ahead of the need, when I am busy worrying and stewing.  And never after the fact, like a patch over a mistake or a band-aid on an injury.  But rather like a perfectly timed gift.  The Ever-present Present. 

How amazing it is that the promised Messiah didn't just come, show us what it meant to live in perfection, and leave us feeling all the more unable to achieve the standard.  He painted the picture, paid the price, and then provided the Paraclete to carry us through.

When I think of the coming months in a clump--well, I just can't do it.  My mind bounces off the idea.  Rejects it and everything it contains.  

Honestly, my natural self is headed for the door.  And so I will stop again and remember that I have counted myself as "dead to sin" (Romans 6:11), that I am no longer subject to the bondage of fear of what will happen (1 John 4:18) because I know that if my steps are ordered by His word (Psalm 119:133) I will not be overcome by any evil thing (Romans 12:21).  

My faith is not in my ability as a "nice person" to do good things.  Because on my own, I'm not and I won't.

My faith is completely in the promise that if I walk by the Spirit, I will not gratify the desires of my flesh. (Galatians 5:16)  

And so this is the same blog post I have written before.  To myself because I need to read it.  To my children because I hope they will one day have this struggle too and I want them to know they are not alone.  

Yes, I said I HOPE they have this struggle.  Because if they listen, someday they will hear the same call to pick up the sword and be warriors for what is right and good.  And hard.  Pushers against darkness wherever it is found.  Speakers for the voiceless.  Protectors of the weak and lost and unloved.    

And they will need to know where their strength lies.

 *****************************

"For the one who sows to his own flesh, will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.  And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up."  Galatians 6:8-9 

"You were called to freedom, brothers!  Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love, serve one another."  Galatians 5:16