Waiting For "Soon"

...and "soon" cannot get here soon enough!

The last twenty four months of our lives have been filled with waiting, frustration, anticipation, impatience, waiting, excitement, anxiety, waiting, sadness, excitement, waiting, grieving, celebrating and finally... waiting.

It's been a season of waiting and a season of wondering...

Two years ago we were waiting for the call. We knew it would be coming and we knew it would be soon, we knew without a doubt that God was calling us to foster care, and we wondered when... and we waited. We met with a social worker and expressed our desires and the boundaries we would set when we decided that it was time, that the Lord was leading us to re-certify our home and our family for foster care. We were frustrated and we wondered how the information we received that day could be accurate. We prayed and we waited.

Eighteen months ago we were waiting for the call. We knew it would be very soon, we had been certified for several weeks and kept our phones by our side and the volume loud. We had to say no to two boys in the first couple of weeks... We just couldn't take them in the time frame they needed care. We grieved for those boys and wondered where they would end up. We prayed for them and we prayed for whoever the precious child would be who would end up in our care... we waited in anticipation and excitement until the call came... And we said yes!

Over the next fifteen months we waited for phone calls, for judgements, for visits... we formed bonds and fell in love, not only with a sweet baby boy, but with an entire family. We celebrated victories and grieved losses, we took thousands of pictures and snuggled as much as possible, we cherished each and every moment as if it were our last. We faced our own ugliness and sought healing for our hearts that were angry and hurting, we begged God for healing in every aspect of these two families that were now intertwined through this precious baby. We waited.. and waited... and waited.......

About four months ago we were waiting for the call. We hoped it would be soon... over the last fifteen months we had learned in a great way that this boy's mama loved him so very much and wanted the very best for him. She hoped so much that she could be that, but recently had expressed the desire for him to be our son, and that she knew being an Ellzey is what would be best for him. We grieved and we celebrated simultaneously as we waited for her call and wondered what the next few days would look like for her precious heart and our future with our foster son.

She did call, we met, she hugged my neck and begged me to take care of her son. We both cried and since then, we've been waiting...

You guessed it, waiting for the call. We knew it would be soon, and yet "soon" just didn't seem soon enough. "Soon" has turned into four months. The agony of waiting for "soon" and desiring for this child to be mine today, this child who has essentially been an orphan, without legal father or mother for four months... this waiting and wondering when "soon" will be is astonishingly and unreasonably too long. It is completely absurd. This should be the easy part, but the impatience is almost too much to bear, I have sat here for months waiting in confusion, frustration, unrest and downright anger over this specific wait.. This has affected me in ways that I didn't expect. Even now, as we quickly approach the adoption of our son, God is showing me the ugliness hiding in the deepest parts of my heart. These days that I should be celebrating and counting down and enjoying who he is right now, I have wasted in frustration and anger at a system that is over-worked and under-budgeted. I have not trusted the one who set this child in our family, I have rushed Him, and He's given me nothing but grace upon grace... and I'm still learning.

Ahhh waiting... waiting has proven to be an obnoxiously purposeful part of my life's journey. Every hard, frustrating wait has been used in a beautiful way.

While I waited impatiently twenty-four months ago, God was growing a beautiful baby boy in his sweet mama's belly, and trying to get a message across to my stubborn hurry-up mentality to  s l o w  d o w n, wait, because very soon I would hold in my arms a greater gift of chunky-baby-boy than I could ever have imagined or rushed myself into.

And how very grateful I am for all the "not yet's" God threw in my path that led me to this specific boy at this specific time in my life. And soon, when he becomes my son, that date I've waited so impatiently for will be completely perfect, beautifully ordained... and perhaps it will teach me to wait with a bit more grace and trust next time.

So here I am repeating this word to myself over and over, giving it to the One who sets dates and the One who creates families, begging Him to work on my heart in a new way, on this new part of our journey... "Soon..." One day, one morning very soon. A morning that will change everything in this child's life and our lives. The date that this boy will become an Ellzey... our son. "Soon" cannot get here soon enough, friends.

To the mama who made the greatest sacrifice...

Dear Mama,

I remember the first time I hugged your neck like it was yesterday. It was a little over a year ago, the first time you met the strangers who were taking care of your son. Chris and I waited anxiously at the agency for your arrival, not knowing how you would respond to us or the situation. I remember these moments so well because they were so very impactful. You met us with grace that day. You thanked us for taking care of your precious boy and you showed gratitude that we were hand chosen by God to be your son's foster parents.

Over the last year, your love toward us, your son's foster parents, has reshaped and molded how we view foster care. In the ups and down, you have loved us. In all of this, you have loved us so well. And you have loved your son in ways that have not gone unnoticed or unappreciated.

Long before he existed, his Creator chose us to be part of your son's story, He heard our prayers and placed us in his future. About 430 days ago a social worker picked us from a list to be your son's foster parents for an undetermined amount of time... and today you, YOU Mama, from the depths of love stored in your heart for this boy, you chose us to be his forever family. You made the ultimate sacrifice as you took the steps that would begin the process of making your son my son.

I hope you know that the gravity of your actions this morning will be felt forever, your choice to love so very sacrificially has changed this mama's heart.

I will never forget the tears that fell today as you hugged my neck in that same office where we first met. No longer strangers, but family, connected by this precious boy, our son. I will remember these moments so well because they were so very impactful. You met me with grace today, you showed immense gratitude that we were the ones handpicked by God to be your son's mommy and daddy, and through tears, you asked us to take good care of him before you walked out of the door.

...and I wept. Oh, how I wept.

Mama,

Thank you. Thank you for pouring out love and grace on our family. Thank you for trusting us to raise your son, I know that doesn't come easy. Thank you for believing our hearts for your family. Thank you for bringing this boy into the world, thank you for his face, you know he got it from you! Thank you for not only letting us love him, but for letting us love you, too.. and we always will. Out of your great loss, you have given us a great gift. We are so grateful.

About a year ago I wrote you these words, and they stand true still today:

"I have come to love that this baby boy has your face. When I look at him, I see you. When I pray for him, I'm praying for you. When I celebrate his milestones, I'm also celebrating yours. When I'm filled with pride for him, I am so very proud of you. And when I love him, I'm loving you, too.

Today you told me that you love us.

I cried.

We love you too, Mama."

I am not cut out for this

Some days I'm jealous.

Our foster son has been in our home and our hearts for 365 days. He was 17 days old when we picked him up, and I would be lying if I said these past 17 days haven't been sopping in jealousy.

Reflecting on the days of his life before I knew him has been uniquely joyful and grievous. I wish I could have been there on his birthday, I wish I could have held him close in his first moments and watched him take his first breath. I wish I could have gotten to know him as a brand new baby, and I wish I could have seen the joy on his siblings faces the first time they met him. I know those days were sweet. I know there were a lot of unanswered questions amidst the celebration, but I know the joy stood tall and mighty over the questions and the unknowns. I wish I had been there to celebrate. I'll never have those moments for myself, and the jealousy is sometimes consuming.

Some days I'm frustrated.

Frustrated that it would take so long to provide such a precious child with some type of permanency. Frustrated with a system that still surprises me after so many months of trying to figure it out. Frustrated that so many questions remain unanswered.

Some days I'm fearful.

Because even after being this boy's mommy for a year, I know things could still change at the drop of a hat. I've become what all who utter the words "foster care" fear the most... I've become too attached.

Some days I'm angry. Some days I'm bitter. Some days I'm sad.

Those are the days that I know I'm not cut out for this.

But God...

Melissa Breedlove Photography

God in His grace has called me to this boy and his family. Oh, His love for us in doing just that is incomprehensible.

In His grace and His love He has shown me how I need Him.

How could I be jealous? In my jealousy of baby boy's first 17 days of his life, God has reminded me of the 365 days his mommy has missed. This day holds great joy for our family, but we know that it holds great devastation for his family. That has knocked me on the ground today. The tears have flowed as I've thought about the events that transpired one year ago today to bring him to our home, the emotion and fear that was felt when one mommy walked into a hospital to visit her son, but he wasn't there... How she must envy the year I have spent with him and how much love and grace she has shown me over these twelve months. God, give me that kind of grace toward others.

HOW could I be frustrated? In my frustration, He has reminded me that one year is such a blip in the years ahead for this child. He has reminded me that over this past year I have built friendships that will last a lifetime. I have gotten to know and love this boy's birth family and I have been shown so many times why it's important that this process is not quick. He is not my son, he has a mommy who loves him so very much. She gave birth to him, he has her genes and she deserves time.

How could I be fearful? Too attached?? Can there be such a thing? I've battled those two words every day of this journey. Of course not. You could never become too attached. That's absurd. This baby boy needs attachment, he needs as many people as possible to go all in for him. And for us, going all in means going all in with his birth family as well. How could I fear losing him when I know that these wonderful people I'm blessed to call friends will never be far from my heart or my life. No matter what happens, we are part of this child's life forever.

Angry... Bitter... Sad... yes. Some days I am all of these things. I cry, I rage, I over think....

Melissa Breedlove Photography

...and I praise.
Every day I'm thankful. So thankful that even while I was not cut out for this, He cut me out for this. He shaped my life just so that this precious boy would spend his first night in our home one year ago today. Every day I'm joyful. How could I not be with the smiles and laughter this child has brightened my life with! Every day I'm blessed, so blessed that I was given the opportunity to love this child with all of my heart, to the deepest part of my being, forever and ever.

And what a blessing even the trials have been. They have shaped me, molded me more and more into the image of Christ I was made to bear. I have been shown my sin on a deeper level and been brought to repentance, to love, to grace. I have been shown love on a deeper level, grace on a deeper level. I have been shown Christ through this child and this journey we were given with him.

I hope you will not let fear keep you from taking this journey of growth and grace. If you have ever considered foster care, please, please contact me or someone you know who is a foster parent. You may not be cut out for this, but I can assure you, HE. IS. And with God all things are possible. (Matthew 19:26). You will not regret loving sacrificially, your life will change, you will know God's grace in a way you never have before.

Happy anniversary, Baby Boy. Thank you for loving us, for changing us, for your smile and the laughter you have filled our home with. Thank you for your cheeks, for peekaboo, for sloppy wet kisses. Thank you for your adventurous spirit. Oh, you keep us on our toes, constantly reminding us of the adventure we are on with you, an adventure that has left us awestruck by the grace of an amazing God, that He would choose us to be loved by you for this season. YOU are a true blessing.

Heather.

May I share a story with you?

You know when I get emotional I have to write... and today, I have to write about Heather.

I met Heather when I was the Program Coordinator at a food bank in Mandeville. She happened to come in on my first day of work while I was training for my position with the previous Program Coordinator.

I was told that Heather had suffered multiple strokes and was very hard to understand. Not very many people in the office could communicate with her. In fact, my friend who I was replacing was just about the only one.

Amazingly, that day as I sat with these two women, I understood just about every word that came from Heather's mouth. Over the course of the next two years I got to know Heather more and more. She rarely came in, but when she did she met me with a sweet embrace and was always SUCH a breath of fresh air, sweet medicine for my heart.

"Your hair looks pretty!"
That was her top compliment. She never complained, only complimented, asked about my family, showed me pictures of her three beautiful children, and asked for prayer.

She had such a heart for prayer. I'll never forget the sweet moments that were spent holding Heather's hands and praying to Jesus for her health, her children and for peace in her circumstances.

The more I got to know Heather, the more I learned about her illness. Over the course of the 12 years before I met her she had suffered nine strokes and many seizures. She struggled financially but rarely asked for help. She raised three children who have been successful in school, one will graduate college soon!

Despite her very severe illness and very desperate financial situation, Heather's smile NEVER faded, her gratitude never ceased. I think that's why she so rarely came in, she truly understood that she lacked very little, her selflessness was amazing. She only wanted for her children and she was so very proud of each one of them.

When Mercy's little life began in my belly, Heather was so excited. She and I both knew that this would mean my time at the food bank was coming to an end, but we also knew this didn't mean our relationship would end. Several times after Mercy came, I was able to coordinate our visits, and even got to introduce Mercy to Heather.

Recently I received news that Heather had another stroke and was not doing well. It had probably been close to a year since I had seen her and I was so blessed with the opportunity to visit her in her home with some friends from the food bank.

We walked in and I wept. She was lying on the couch and looked so very frail. She smiled at me and I hugged her and kissed her forehead. She complimented each of us and smiled from ear to ear as I showed her photos of my kids and told her all about them... and then she locked eyes with me and uttered something I could barely understand. She repeated and I knew, I saw a familiar look in her beautiful eyes. She was asking me to pray with her.

What an honor, to sit on the floor by this beautiful soul, grasp her hands in mine, and pray that Jesus would hold her, hold her children. To sit there next to her and praise Him for allowing me to be part of her life and for the work He did on my heart by showing me her precious heart.

Heather died this morning. Her sweet daughter called me minutes after she took her last breath and we wept on the phone together. She has been released from years of suffering into the glory of her Savior, standing as upright as can be and singing His praises clearly and beautifully. Sixteen years of suffering that led to this glorious day of her new life, sixteen years that to her were not seen as years of suffering, but blessed moments that she was able to spend with her loved ones. Sweet moments to share her heart and the love and grace that Jesus offers.

We are grieving, friends, but not as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Heather has shown me what it looks like to find joy and contentment no matter how dyer our circumstances (Philippians 4:12-13) and how to have hope when life looks terribly hopeless. Will you join me in praying for this sweet family today? Will you join me in praying that we may each have a heart like Heather's? A heart that desires to bring joy and love to others no matter what our personal circumstances may look like?

nine months in

This week marks nine months of caring for our foster son.

Nine. Months.

...and it just occurred to me: we have cared for him for as long as she carried him.

Maybe that's why she called this week after so long. Maybe she's grieving, maybe she's missing him a little extra as she sits on the gravity of what happened nine months ago.

Half of his life he was with her more intimately than he will ever be with me. I'll never feel his kicks and hiccups or see my body growing as he grows inside of me. He was perfectly knit together in her womb, life moving through his body with every beat of his heart, each day becoming more and more of who he is today. I'll never see him take his first breath, see the world for the first time or hold him close in those intimate precious moments immediately after his birth. Those moments were reserved for her. She loved him, no, loves him so very much. That has never been in question and never will be. He is perfectly who he is because she is his mom.

Half of his life he's been with me in a way that he will never be with her. He will never be as little tomorrow as he is today. He will never again need to be rocked to sleep as a newborn after his 3am feeding. She will never soothe him and wipe his tears as he cuts his first tooth, or crawl on the floor next to him on his first crawling adventure... the many firsts we've celebrated this year will never be firsts again. He is growing and changing so fast, each day he's becoming more and more of the little boy and man he will be one day.

...and while I'm sitting here wishing he wasn't growing up so fast, how I'll miss these sweet baby days... she is grieving because she has missed all of this. She is grieving because she has missed half of his life and she misses him still.

Nine months ago this precious boy's mommy showed up to the hospital to visit him on his 16th day in this world... and he wasn't there. He was here, with me. And she wept.

This. Is. Devastating.
This is LOSS in its greatest form and it's tragic, friends.

Please remember birth parents in your prayers over foster care. Please remember that foster parents and the children we care for are not the only ones affected by this process and that despite the events and choices that led to these circumstances, there is often deep heartache, remorse and fear. Please pray for healing... for redemption, grace and mercy.

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.
Philippians 1:9-11