A Year of Miracles

It is General Conference Weekend...Always a time for reflection and respite. I can't help but think back to exactly one year ago when I watched General Conference from a hospital room and I held a frightened, angry, and wheezing little two year old girl in my lap.  She refused to smile or even make eye contact with me. She refused to walk, was unable to talk or eat.  You can read more about that here. Tonight, exactly one year later, we ate dinner at Cafe Rio and she smiled her cheesy grin and announced, "Loook Mommy! I eat my food all gone!" At bed time, I had to pull her sweet, chubby hands from around my neck as she declared, "MY mommy! You MY mommy FOeveh!"  I sang to her and kissed her and she rubbed my cheek.
One year ago, I sang to a precious little five year old and tucked her in bed as tears poured down her cheeks. She looked up at me and asked, "Who will get my parents out of jail?" I didn't know how to answer that question, so I held her as she cried. We tried to calm her fears and help her sleep.  She woke 6-7 times each night: afraid, unsure of us, away from the only family she ever knew. Tonight, one year later, I sang a lullaby to her as I stroked her cheek and she smiled as she nuzzled into my neck.  As I left the room, she called out, "Check on me in a little bit!"; the same words we've said to each other every night for the past year.
What was once a plea called out in fear is now a comforting bedtime ritual. She will sleep peacefully through the night.

Amazing what  a difference a year makes, isn't it?

Although... I have seen too much to call this merely the effect of "progress" or "time."
The truth is that this change is A Miracle.

We have witnessed so many miracles this past year.  When I say miracles, I don't mean "coincidences", or "amazing progress" or "nice things happening".  I mean that God reached down and changed us; changed them; changed our story.  He is writing our story with "mercy's pen" and we are humbled to stand in awe and watch.

I wish so much that I could tell you each and every miracle we have witnessed in these beautiful girls.  So much of that is really their story to tell, though.  I probably haven't always respected that as much as I should.  I went to write this blog post four different times and the words just wouldn't come.  I think God was nudging me to respect their privacy.

I can tell you that I have watched God change our three big kids into truly amazing servants.  We have watched them give their toys, rooms, belongings, love, time and attention to their little sisters.  They have become less self-centered, more aware of the needs of our community, more concerned for the plight of orphans in our world.  They are becoming such amazing little humans and God is using this experience to make them into His servants.

 Please don't get me wrong- they have truly become siblings...  They fight and bicker and compete and tease. Most days, I fall into bed and think that if I have to resolve one more argument I might just spontaneously combust..

But even that is a miracle, really; the fact that these sweet girls have become real sisters to our three big kids.

Many of the miracles I have witnessed aren't really my stories to tell, so I will share with you the miracles that have occurred in me.

As much as I would like to tell you that I have been filled with faith throughout this journey, I have not. I have faltered many times. This year has been a roller coaster of joy and trauma and fear and beauty and peace and faith and turmoil and joy.  It is virtually impossible to describe... for a little more on what it's been like, feel free to read THIS post.

There have been dozens of tender mercy miracles over this year... days when I have felt discouraged or fearful or worried and the Lord sends just the right article or hymn or scripture or devotional or words from a friend. In fact, there have been so many of those little miracles that one would think I could never doubt my future or His goodness and Plan for our family.  In fact, on New Year's Eve, I had one of the most intense spiritual experiences of my life as I sat in prayer at the Ogden Temple. I felt so loved and known by My Father in Heaven.  Despite all those moments,  it soon became evident that our girls would be returning to their bio parents in the coming months.  I'm embarrassed to admit that I spent much of  February angry and lost in fear that I could barely pray about this situation at all.  I relied on others to pray for us and my prayers about this issue became detached or worse... non-existent. I didn't even know what to say to Him... How dare His will not go along with my plan?! Doesn't He know we want to adopt these girls and that they will NEVER be safe with their Bio parents?!  How does He not know this?!
I felt like I was in prison.... my mental anguish was so great. I was ANGRY.  Angry at these bio parents for the neglect and abuse and trauma they had inflicted on these girls.  Angry that after a year of nursing them through the recovery from said trauma, I was now expected to hand them back to the very people who hurt them!! And more than that... I was ANGRY with God for giving them the chance to repent. I honestly felt like I was in jail because my thoughts were so dark. So you'll understand why Jen Hatmaker's post from February 27th caught my eye:

"Well, I have a good news/bad news scenario for you.

The good news is that God absolutely has a plan and path to walk you straight out of the prison of unforgiveness, betrayal, bitterness, and a darkened heart. It will positively work. It is the key that turns the lock. It is foolproof.

The bad news is that here is what it looks like according to Romans 12:14-21 and Luke 6:32-36: you don't get to take revenge. None. And there's more. Actually, it seems like a 2-phase plan according to these verses:

Phase 1: Just don't go psycho.

Do not curse that person.
Do not repay evil for evil.
Do not take revenge.

So basically Phase 1 is meant to just keep you on the rails. You've been hurt, betrayed, harmed. Just be quiet. This is the best you can do during Phase 1. It's okay. Jesus knows. If you can just *not* say a bunch of stuff you can't take back, that is a win. This is a Quiet Game phase. Don't hit back. Don't take your fury to Facebook. Don't slide passive aggressive darts out sideways. Don't rally the troops to stage a coup.

Phase 2: Bless that person.

Bless those that persecute you.
Feed your enemy.
Love your enemy.
Do good to your enemy.
Lend to your enemy and expect nothing in return.
Be merciful to your enemy like God is to awful people.

Phase 2 is a doozy. Jesus was like, "There is nothing really special or holy about loving people that love you. Everyone does that. You want to turn heads? Love your ENEMY. Do good to HIM. Lend to HIM. Bless HIM. Now that is the God-life right there." There is a zero percent chance you want to do anything on that list. Sometimes faith requires us to dig deeper than we ever thought possible.

Back to the good news. These scriptures also tell us what to expect when we approach our enemies like this:

God will handle the justice part.
You will overcome evil with good. YOU WILL OVERCOME.
Your reward will be great.
You will be worthy of the title "son" or "daughter" of God.
You will be emulating your Father.

This is literally how we overcome. This is our path out of the dungeon of bitterness and unforgiveness. This is how we go from tormented minds to living at peace. IT IS WORK. Such work. It will look ridiculous, as Jesus stuff often does. People will tell you to nurture your anger instead; you deserve to, after all. You'll look like a sucker maybe. It might even feel awful somewhere in the middle of it.

But you do this work and you will walk right out of that prison into the fresh, clean air. Do it. Trust God's counsel here. It may feel impossible, but you are strong enough for this."

And all of the sudden, it clicked.  I have to forgive their parents.  I have to let it go. I immediately committed to praying for their bio parents every day.  Did I know I should be praying for them before this?  Of course!  I had even tried before, but it tasted like poison coming out of my mouth.  And yet, here I am, begging for Christ's mercy and grace while refusing it to these people who are actively trying to turn their lives around.  And gradually, the weight began to lift.  

I read Elder Holland's words from his remarkable sermon, Remember Lot's Wife:

Let people repent. Let people grow. Believe that people can change and improve. Is that faith? Yes! Is that hope? Yes! Is it charity? Yes! Above all, it is charity, the pure love of Christ. If something is buried in the past, leave it buried. Don’t keep going back with your little sand pail and beach shovel to dig it up, wave it around, and then throw it at someone, saying, “Hey! Do you remember this?” Splat!

Well, guess what? That is probably going to result in some ugly morsel being dug up out of your landfill with the reply, “Yeah, I remember it. Do you remember this?” Splat.

And soon enough everyone comes out of that exchange dirty and muddy and unhappy and hurt, when what God, our Father in Heaven, pleads for is cleanliness and kindness and happiness and healing.

Such dwelling on past lives, including past mistakes, is just not right! It is not the gospel of Jesus Christ.

When something is over and done with, when it has been repented of as fully as it can be repented of, when life has moved on as it should and a lot of other wonderfully good things have happened since then, it is not right to go back and open up some ancient wound that the Son of God Himself died trying to heal."

Y'all. I don't know if real repentance is taking place with their bio parents.  But it is not my place to know that. I am called to forgive. Period.

It was just as I was emerging from my self-inflicted prison that my amazing husband whisked me away for a surprise Romantic Birthday Weekend in St. George:








How wonderful is he?! I had been a beast of a wife for the past month, but here he stood, loving me faithfully and more than I deserved.  He listened as I moaned and cried and made me laugh.  If ever there were a miracle, it is this man in my life.  I don't know much for certain, but I know God sent Matt to me.  He is my best friend and He has been the rock in our family through this past year.  I  weep and rail and worry and fret, and there he stands, faithful and steady and certain.  He assures me that God's got this; that at the end of our time with the girls, all of us will be better.  His love; our marriage- that is a miracle.

With a year of foster care, comes a permanency hearing.  It is at this hearing that the judge should decide whether or not the children are to return to their parents. The week leading up to the hearing, my body was filled with anxiety.  I have never seen anxiety manifest in me that way, but sufficeth to say that I was sick.  My wonderful husband again stepped in, carrying my responsibilities and his... And as I stayed focused on my journey to forgive, I realized very quickly that I am simply not strong enough to do it.

But  here comes yet another miracle.  While preparing a lesson for my Sunday School class, I came across this video "My Burden was Made Light" which shares the true story of Chris Williams, whose car was struck by a drunk driver.  I have seen it so many times and love it, but I didn't think much of it. When I sat down to watch it for the first time in a year, everything was different; I heard it all from a new place this time. It is truly a remarkable story. Take a few minutes to watch it:

Chris says, "When I felt anger or intense loneliness, I didn't direct it at him (the drunk driver) it directed itself at the Savior." 

And again... Miracle.  We went to court the next day and court days are usually filled with such anxiety that I become physically ill: my stomach aches, my arms tingle with anxiety, my limbs feel heavy with the weight of the emotion, my face burns with anger and my head aches from all the drama.  But that next day, every time I felt anxiety or fear or anger... I handed it to My Savior.  I closed my eyes and begged Him to hold it because it was just too. heavy. 

And when the judge made a ruling that was completely in favor of the parents and not in favor of our sweet girls, I felt calm.  I wasn't happy and I wasn't joyous, but the fire and the anger and the weight I felt at previous hearings was gone.  It truly felt like peace that "surpasseth all understanding"...

I'd love to tell you that I am completely at peace now... that my days are tranquil from one day to the next.  But it is a roller coaster.  You never know what the next day holds in Foster Care.  While I have had moments of anxiety and cause for alarm, I am letting Christ carry my burden.  Forgiveness is a choice I have to make each and every day.
We still don't know what the future holds for our family. We know we will have the girls for a few more months, at least. But He knows the end of the story, and we believe in Him.  We believe in Miracles.