The Agony of Defeat

Since Maureen's death, I have been an emotional mess.  I feel lost and easily confused.  I have become forgetful as well.  Its a strange place to be.  I know the sun rises and sets in the same places every day but that seems to be the only thing I am sure of lately.  Even my faith seems to wane.  I believe in God but I wonder if He hears me.  Has He forgotten me?  Has He turned his back on me?  Has He heard me call out to Him?  I wish I could be certain of my life but I am not certain of much right now.

Today, I drove down to Seattle with my friend Susan, leaving my car at her house.   We were meeting mutual friends who are also her neighbors at Safeco field for a Mariner's game.  I would ride home with them as she was planning to spend the rest of the weekend in Seattle with her new love interest.  After the game and half way home, I thought to look for my car keys.  They were nowhere to be found.  My heart sank as I realize I did not have my only set of keys and hoped they were in Susan's car.  To make matters worse, I didn't have a way into my own house.  Thankfully, my neighbors have a spare key so I can at least be in my comfort zone.

Its Saturday night and I am home, watching Kung Fu Panda and beating myself up for this current predicament.  There is no grace or mercy for me right now.  And I add this to the running list of issues that bring me down: close friends moving away, single friends meeting their matches, other friends having babies.  It feels as if there is little hope left for me.  Nothing to look forward to.  So many issues, so much sadness.  I think I've taken up residence in the state of Depression.  Whereas, things like these never seemed to bother me before, they are affecting me now. 

It's times like this when my only option is to admit defeat.  To fall on my knees, lift up my hands and shout, "I surrender!"  I am not sure how much more I can take and going it alone has gotten me nowhere.  But the idea of surrender makes me feel weak and helpless.  That despite my best efforts, I have lost the battle and failed miserably.   

One of the greatest lines in Kung Fu Panda belongs to the very wise Oogwey:  "The panda will never fulfill his destiny nor you yours until you let go of the illusion of control." It speaks to me because I  try hard to control so many aspects in my life.   But the truth is I am not in control, He is.  And my job is to submit to Him.  To believe otherwise is an illusion.  I tell myself these lies to bring comfort or security.  In the end, however, it only makes things worse.  I know that surrender is not weakness.  Admitting defeat is not the same as failing.  And I am not alone.  No matter how hard times may get, no matter how dark the days become, this is a season in my life and I do not walk thru it alone.

"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall not fear.  For you are with me."  This I know.

I'm Fine. How are you?

Everyone has pet peeves.  My latest one is when you ask someone "How are you?" and their immediate response is, "I'm fine!  How are you?" without even taking the time to think about the question.  Yes, I'm guilty of it too but I'm working on it.  Why do we do that?  Is it too hard to be honest and say "I'm not doing so good today."?  Have we as a society gotten to the point where we're too busy to care about each other?  Or do we try really, really hard to keep others at arm's length?

In the beginning, God created man and woman.  He created them to bond with Him and with each other.  But sin shattered that bond and relationships have never been the same.  Its probably safe to assume that since that time, people have searched for a way to bond with each other and with God.
Why is bonding so hard?  Revealing your inner most self to a person can't be that bad, can it?

Actually, the idea of being completely vulnerable to another is scary.  I have a good friend who is being pursued by a Christian man.  Not pursued in the stalking sense but in the way that is right - with time, honesty and transparency.  And rather than throwing herself into this one, she is allowing her heart to be pursued.  And it scares the stuffing out of her.  Like me, she has done all of the work in her relationships, doing what it takes to keep them going.  She is learning, however, to let him take the reins and it is a good thing.

Being vulnerable means allowing someone to see all of you, not just the happy face we paint on our masks then hide behind.  Not just the "I'm fine" mentality.  Vulnerability is real, raw, honest.  Its about showing the one person who loves and accepts us who we really are, without make up or masks.  If its done in a healthy way, its possible to show sadness, anger, frustration and disappointment.  Its the kind of relationship God wants to have with us.

I am surprised at the way grief has taken over me recently.  It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing, when I need to cry there is no stopping it, no matter how hard I try.  Last night, I was in yoga class when I was overcome with sadness.  I was in a pose when I started to cry and couldn't stop.  I cleaned up my spot and apologized to my wonderful teacher who comforted me with a hug.  Later, I met a friend for wine and chat time and was able to share my grief experience with her.  My friend said it was good that I felt comfortable enough to let my emotions flow.  I hadn't considered that but it was true.  Yoga teacher Katie is among the most compassionate, caring people I know and I allowed myself to be vulnerable in front of her.  I like that.

I believe life is about seasons and each of us must pass through winter to get to spring.  I believe God uses events in our lives to teach us how to feel with an open heart, to love like Him, forgive unconditionally and give grace and mercy to those who need it.  I believe we were created to feel in the same way our Lord felt every emotion during His short time on earth.  These are the things that make us human, that bring us together and allow us to relate to each other.  If we can put down our guards and be real with each other, the sky will still be blue (unless you're in L.A), babies laughter will still be among the most beautiful sounds and flowers will bloom in their time.  In other words, what do we have to lose?  The only thing that will change will be us and it would be a very good thing.

In the meantime, I will continue to sit in this valley of darkness, with Jesus beside me, knowing that it serves a purpose and that spring is only a few months away.  And I will be fine.  

Healing a child - part 2

Last Thursday, I was asked if I would take a 7year old boy for two weeks respite.  Unfortunately, issues at work wouldn't allow that but I did agree to take him for 4 days.  So, he came to live with me thru Monday.  What I thought would be an innocent time turned out to be a series of triggers and lessons learned.
When this little boy showed up at my house, he had the biggest smile on his face and talked non-stop.  I was a little overwhelmed as he made himself at home.  But it was ok because he seemed good with being here.  I have to admit that I am always apprehensive when I get a child.  Mostly, I fear they won't like me (the people pleaser in me) or something will go horribly wrong and I won't know what to do (the controller in me).  But as the hours passed, I found I could relax around him and just be what he needed - a caring, responsible adult.  And the fact that he was in bed at 8pm made it so much easier.
Sleeping almost 12 hours does something to a kid, especially one that consumes a bottle of apple juice before going to bed.  Yep, he had had an accident.  I could tell he was nervous about telling me but I assured him it was ok, stripped the bed and washed the sheets.  We hung out with friends for a little while in the morning then went to the fair in the evening.  Him, being 7, he wanted everything in sight.  Me, being a single "parent", said "No" a whole lot.  But he rode the rides he wanted and got the food he liked so it was a good day.
Saturday was a  lazy day and we didn't do much.  One thing I try to do consistently with the kids I get is bake then take our baked goods into my work so the kids have some positive exposure to police officers.  Being an emergency placement parent means receiving kids that have just been removed from their homes and taken from their parents.  The officers that have this responsibility endure anger/drama by the parents and fear/tears from the kids.  Its a hard position to be in.  By taking in cookies, the kids see the human side of the officers and not the law enforcement side.  So, we baked cookies then took them in to a very appreciative crowd.  He beamed with pride as he passed out cookies like they were $100 bills, receiving a lot of praise along the way.  We then hit the park, got groceries then headed back home to watch Cars, play board games and have dinner.  This was a good day.
Sunday started out with church.   Well, I went to church and he went to the play area of church where he got to hang out with other kids and be a kid just like them.  It was later that evening when things started to fall apart with this little guy and he wasn't able to keep up his charade anymore.  He suffers from encopresis = soiling.  Unfortunately, I didn't do any research ahead of time and was unprepared for his accident.  I'm afraid I reacted in a way that brought out the worst in  him.  I didn't yell but I was frustrated that he gave no indication that he needed to go, not realizing he isn't capable of knowing.  My reaction made him very angry, to the point of yelling.  That shook me.  I felt like I was no longer in control and I didn't know what to do so I left him in his room and walked away, trying to calm myself down.  It was a horrible feeling and I didn't like it at all.  After just about a minute, he came out and apologized.  I explained that it wasn't ok to yell and that his behavior wasn't appropriate.  I also told him I was angry with him because of it and needed time to get over it.  The rest of the night was strained and he went to bed, leaving me alone to process.
Its funny the things that come up when a trigger is hit.  After he went to sleep, I remembered being in first grade and having an accident while in church.  I remember being embarrassed in front of my classmates and being teased.  I also remember getting into trouble for it when I got home and the whole thing made me feel small.  I was 7 years old.  I don't think I will ever forget mom's reaction or how bad it made me feel.  As I crawled into bed Sunday night, I asked God to forgive me for being so angry with him and to help him, too.  There is no reason why a 7 year old should react so strongly even when bearing such perceived shame.
Monday, I returned him to his social worker only to find out later that evening that they had no place for him.  I can't imagine being 7 and knowing no one wants you which is something he does know.  He is in his 3rd placement because the last one "didn't want me because I pooped my pants".  I am ashamed to admit I am among them.  Having come from a very abusive home where his accidents were shoved in his face and he was called names, he is deeply scarred and troubled.  My heart aches for him as I know he will spend his life feeling lost and angry, lashing out at anyone who gets close to him, never fully trusting anyone.  For so long, I was him and for similar reasons (not encopresis).  Rather than stepping up and taking him back, I ran from him, knowing I couldn't take any more.  It was too close to home, too familiar.
Tonight, as I write this, I wonder where he is and if he is ok.  I pray he will find parents who will love him when he is placed for permanent adoption.  I hope he will go back to school and just be a kid who plays and makes friends and lives life.  But the reality is he will struggle, probably be a loner and have much sadness in his life.  I know this scenario all too well.  I feel like I failed him.  Perhaps I had a chance to redeem my younger self by saving him but reality doesn't work that way and all I can do is ask for forgiveness and pray...

Healing a child within

I am a single foster parent.  Its something I fell into 6 years ago that ended up being a very good thing for me.  I was really apprehensive at first because it meant bringing into my home kids who come from the worst possible situations.  When its put that way, how could I not do it, right?  Well, not doing was easier to justify than doing.
When a child comes into my home, they are usually confused, lost, scared or angry.  At one time or another in my healing process, I have experienced those same feelings.  That is to say, I am an adult experiencing them as a child.  I've learned so much over the past few years about trauma and how it affects a child.  Trauma can cause a child to cease developing emotionally and even begin to disconnect the heart from the head, metaphorically, of course.  Until that rift is healed, both parts remain separate.  The head takes over the life process, compartmentalizing and numbing events that can bring fear, sadness or anger.  In the meantime, the heart becomes secluded, away from anything or anyone that could hurt it.  Its ability to feel withers as it hides behind the more rational mind.
Interesting stuff, really.  Pretty complex yet so simple.  Every child that I care for is in this position, having the realities of their world shattered as they are removed from everything they have ever known.  Initially, when I became a foster parent, I would receive a child and just go through the motions.  Their basic needs were met but I didn't know how to go beyond that.  My actions were almost robotic - time to eat, time to bathe, time for bed.  The interaction was limited.  The affects on my heart were nil.  And, at the time, that was ok.  It was how I survived.  But all of that changed when I began my healing process.
I never considered how reconnecting my heart to my head would affect specific areas of my life.  Yes, I was able to feel more deeply and relate more wholly but these were taken to a whole new level by one child in particular.
His name was Christopher and he was 2 years old.  His mom had trouble with alcohol and mom's boyfriend was bad news.  Mom would leave Christopher with a friend for days on end while she went out drinking and partying.  Thankfully, her friend had had enough and reported her to CPS.  Christopher came to me soon after and stayed for two weeks.  During that time, I was able to feel love for this little guy.  Not because he was cute and sweet but because I was able to connect with him in a way that I had never experienced with anyone else.  The way he would look to me for things or hold my hand stirred something inside.  I came to understand why Jesus loved little children so much.  Until this time, that concept had escaped me.
We had a routine.   He realized that I would put him to bed at night and be there the next morning.  And every morning brought the sweetest smile.  What a gift.  Christopher didn't say much when he first arrived.  He would get angry and scream if I didn't understand him.  With little effort, however, we were able to communicate.  His first word was "you" which was the result of sitting in front of the mirror and pointing to him in it.  "You", I'd say.  I'll never forget how much pleasure he got when he sat in the bath tub and played with wind up toys.  His hands would shake with excitement, his eyes were wide with wonder.  I looked forward to that almost as much as I did getting him ready for bed.  Every night, I would sit on the couch with the lights off.  He would fall asleep at the other end of it and I would carry him to his bed, safe and sound.  He could sleep when I was near. And that felt pretty good.
When the decision was made to place Christopher long term, I knew I couldn't continue to care for him so another home was arranged.  That was devastating.  I couldn't give him up.  He was mine and I would take him to Mexico if I needed.  But the reality of it was that he would eventually go back to his mom, who loved her son enough to get the help she needed.  So, I would always be temporary.  My supervisor reasoned with me - it would be easier to give him back now than in a year.  Reason aside, it would be hard no matter what.  I think I spent most of my last days with him in tears, praying to God to remove my heart from my chest so that I could give him up.  No dice.  My heart was being reconnected and I was feeling pain.  It was a very sad time for me, selfishly.  I don't know if he knew it, but Christopher surprised me that night during his bedtime routine and left me with the sweetest memory.  After I turned the lights off, I laid across the opposite end of the couch from him.  He looked ready to fight sleep at all possible costs but I would wait him out.  Within a few minutes, he crawled over to me and laid on my chest where he stayed until he fell asleep.  My arms were wrapped around him as I cried, praying over and over again that he would grow up to know God and feel His protection around him.  I don't know how long I stayed on the couch but I wish I could have stopped time for I had found a peace within myself that I hadn't known before.     
I've had foster kids since then but none affected me the way Christopher did.  But what that experience left me with was a genuine concern for these kids and a strong desire to love them, protect them and care for them in much the same way I wish I had been.  Whatever trauma I suffered as a child, whatever events forced a change in my emotional growth no longer has a hold on me.  God used a child to help heal this child.  Praise God!

   

Friends

Today, I was able to spend a small but precious amount of time with two dear friends, one who lives locally and one who recently moved to Texas after getting married.  My time with those two women reminded me of the special gift of friendship.

Do we ever really consider friendship a gift?  Or do we see it more as a right or obligation?  And how close do we allow ourselves to get with our friends?  I can answer that one by saying, for me, there are different levels of friendships.   There are the friends who I happily answer their "How are you?" with "I'm fine" whether or not I mean it.  Then there are those who ask the same question and I can tell them "I'm a little mental today" and they step up to the plate and offer a shoulder to cry on or Kleenex.  And for those who have truly been blessed, there is the chosen one or two who are allowed into the inner sanctums of our hearts.  The ones who don't even need to ask how we are, they already know.

I have a friend like that.  She is my best friend.  She is the one I laugh and cry with and expose my soul to.  She knows my hopes and dreams, my desires and heart breaks.  She lifts me up when I'm down and reminds me that God is in control, not me.  Yes, she is honest enough to tell me when I am being hormonal and does so with the confidence that I will continue to love her for it.  And even though we live in different states, every October, we meet at a Starbucks and talk on our cell phones over a pumpkin spice latte.

This best friend of mine is the reason I have a deeper relationship with Jesus.  She is my inspiration, in fact.  Short of Job, I don't think anyone in this world has endured all that she has yet still kept her faith.  Over 10 years ago, she lost her oldest son to cancer - Non-Hodgkins lymphoma- yet she never stopped praising God for the gift of her son and the 7 years she was allowed to have him.  Shortly after her son passed, she became involved in raising funds for cancer research to the point of going to Washington DC and addressing Congress.  She organized Relay for Life events for several years.  What amazing faith.  What incredible love.  That was Maureen.  And I loved her.

On July 9th, after a very short battle with lung cancer, God called her home.  She is survived by her parents, her 9 year old son, her brothers and sister... and me, among others.  Sometimes, when I think about her, I believe God brought her into my life to teach me things like unconditional love, living a non-judgmental life, vulnerability, grace and forgiveness.  I don't think I've fully grasped those concepts yet so He has to bring her back, right?  Unfortunately, life doesn't work out that way and I am struggling to accept the idea that I will never see or hear from her again while I am on this earth.
But while there is some truth in that, I believe she is still with me.  Times when I am not being the most gracious toward someone , I hear her say, "Susie, Jesus loves everyone."  Days when all I want to do is cry, I see her dancing with her son in heaven and making others smile.  And even though I am sad to know she won't be at my "one day" wedding, I can just see her sitting in a great, big, comfy chair next to God, playing matchmaker and offering to give up chocolate forever if He will finally send George Clooney over to me.  That's my best friend, all right.

I can't understand how someone like Maureen who truly loved and praised her God could be taken from this world.  Her life was a bright light that shone through even the darkest times.  She was a disciple who went out to bring others to Christ.  She touched so many lives in the process, especially mine.  And I will never be the same.

Rest in peace, Maureen.

Day one - An Introduction

The idea to blog came from my two good friends, Autumn and Katie.  I love reading what they write because its so honest and beautiful.  That got me to thinking that blogging is just another form of journaling. Even though I'm a horrible journalist, I thought I'd give this a shot.  Being transparent doesn't come easily for me but I will at least try.
First, about the title.  I actually considered something else - The Misadventures of Living Single - but thought that sounded kinda pathetic. And I haven't had that many misadventures to keep this interesting, so  I decided on Growing a Grown Up because that seems to be the process I'm in right now.  I am a 42 year old female who recently reached puberty.  Obviously, I'm being facetious but not really.  I think I've reached puberty emotionally as all I seem to do lately is cry or listen to my heart break.  There are reasons for that.  I've been in a healing process the past few years, allowing God to work in my life and letting His will be done over mine.  That has lead to a flood of emotions that have needed to work themselves out, ones that I have held back for far too many years.  I was raised to believe that nothing was worth crying over.  If I fell down and got hurt, if my boyfriend dumped me, if I was scared or whatever, it didn't matter, I shouldn't cry.  Fast forward 30 years and I'm finally learning its ok to cry.  Its natural.  Its normal.  Its healthy.  Its strange feeling my heart break as a result of this process.  I know I've never experienced it before.  And while I hope to never experience it again, I know its part of growing up.     

So, here I am.  An emotionally stunted single female trying to make sense of this world.  Fun, right?

I work full time.  I like my job a lot and work with some good people.  I like the outdoors although lately all I seem to do is hibernate.  I don't have any kids so I am a foster parent.  What's nice about that is that each kid I get stays for a little while them gets placed in permanent care or returned to parent/s.  The down side of it is the same.  I've had some kids that I really wanted to keep and others that I counted down the minutes until they left.  It gives me my kid fix for a time, anyhow.  I have a flower and vegetable garden.  I like gardening, especially on nice days but not too hot.  Summers around here can be amazing, rainy or hot.  I like amazing because its a nice mixture of hot and cool as opposed to hot all day and night.    

I have a dog, Missy.  She is my constant companion.  We've been together for 9 years 'tho she was already 6 years old when she came to me.  She is an old girl at 15.  I'm blessed that she is very healthy minus this annoying breathing issue of hers.  She can't help it but most days its hard to deal with, especially at night on hot days.  There's a flap of some sort in her throat that  is failing so when she breathes, she has to force air thru.  Basically, she is a walking obscene phone caller.  There is a vet in Seattle who can operate on her but it will cost $2500.00 which I don't have.  The reason I don't have it because the past 9 months has been about buying big ticket items, namely a furnace and a roof. 

I'm craving a nap so I will end my very first blog here.  Welcome to the random rantings of this slightly goofy but optimistic woman!