Jesus the healer

So "Broah" (new nickname) 😂 has his first Cross Country track meet today, and his first football scrimmage tomorrow. Yay!! Exciting times! It's sad to admit, but I have to be honest, there was a period when I could not foresee this being in his future. It actually took us three years before we could even trust him enough to play a sport, at all, which was baseball this summer, and we had some challenges then, though not unbearable (definitely not his sport.) Yet here he is, discharged from special education and in regular classes, with regular kids, playing regular sports, and I could not be more proud to say that. I could care less if he places first or places at all, I'm just so thankful he has the ability to participate!

Right before Noah was placed with us, God audibly spoke to me one day, telling me the great things he had in mind for him. I wondered why He would speak to me about just him and not Asher, but passed that off as insignificant since I was so excited that God spoke to me about my son in the first place! I could not wait to watch His handiwork unfold. Then he was placed and I quickly realized why He felt the need to give me that "pep talk," so to speak. The sheer brokenness I saw before me rocked my faith like it has never been rocked before. "God, how could you tell me those things when you have given me a child who is this messed up? Lord, he's severely mentally ill and has to be heavily medicated to do anything! He'll probably never live on his own, and you have great things in mind for HIM?! I can barely keep him from hurting himself, let alone others. Are you sure? I cannot see what you see. Surely he is beyond repair." Prior to this, I had never been one to question the Lord, but this situation made me realize that in my life, so far, I had never really known Jesus that way and He was using this situation to reveal that part of Himself to me. Jesus the healer. Sure, I had read about healing in the Bible and witnessed some minor healing from sickness and pain in myself and others, but never to this magnitude, surely God was mistaken. But my my my, it was I who was mistaken and I am blessed today to have been so wrong!! The miracles that I've seen God do in the last three years with my child who was literally in pieces, who is now being put back together piece by aching piece by the creator of the universe! Yes, one can attribute some of that to him being placed in a family, with stability for once in his life, but that's honestly giving us too much credit. We were and are still not experts by any means. Bob and I were first time parents, never having parented any child before, let alone one with mental and emotional problems with severe destructive behavior AND his little brother who had his own needs. Yes we took the classes, but we were, in the literal sense, NOT prepared for the task we were given. And we have made so many mistakes along the way. But God. BUT GOD! If it weren't for Him we would have already thrown in the towel. If it weren't for his promises and hanging on to every little bit of faith we had left, there would be no way we could do this. All along the way God has reminded us that he is still working, even through the worst times, HE IS STILL WORKING. Putting people in our path to encourage and uplift us; strangers at mental hospitals (of all places), support groups, churches, you name it. God speaking again, telling me "we're halfway there," and another time to see him as "Faith Walking" (His words not mine); which meant rejecting what I saw as the truth of who Noah is, and intentionally seeing and treating him as if he is already restored (still a work in progress at times.) Revealing to us that he has not only prepared us in advance, but actually CREATED us for this; wasting nothing, using even our own adversities in life, just as he is doing for Noah. Here he is, using our lives and experiences as an example of his living word in Romans 8:28 when it says, "All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." And I stand in amazement of it all.

No we were not prepared; not prepared to see the greatness of God, to meet the healing power of Jesus whose arms know no depths, whose blood cleanses even the most vile wretch, all because of His boundless love and grace for us. I'm struggling to even find the words as my words fall short and are not fit to describe the magnitude and astonishment of the Lord! I am blessed to be speechless at his miraculous works and pray that they continue to completion.


Hannah

Back to school woes...again

When you put in a courtesy call to the teachers and coaches to let them know that your child is from care and is diagnosed with several different mental disorders to make sure they understand what they are working with, and they say something along the lines of, "I've been an educator ## years, I'm sure he'll be fine" or "That sounds like normal kid stuff to me" or my personal favorite, "He's a boy. Boys like to do stuff like that" LIKE ALL THE TEACHERS DID THE YEARS BEFORE and you want to reach through the phone and grab them by the throat and scream ONCE AGAIN, I AM BEING DISMISSED AND DAMNED TO REPEAT ANOTHER YEAR OF THE SAME BULLSHIT BY A NEW TEACHER. (Not that throat grabbing is appropriate or that it would even end up with anything except with me catching an assault charge, but it seems like it would feel good to do in the moment.) Then, just as it happened the year before, like clockwork, halfway through the year in comes the calls discussing my sons behavior that they have no idea what to do about and suddenly would appreciate my advice on how to deal with, that I so kindly tried to deliver at the very beginning but was dismissed. I'm sure that anyone whose ever adopted an older kid from care can totally understand what I'm saying here, because their behavior is far from normal and we wouldn't waste our time trying to form a relationship with the teachers, who have our children for eight hours a day, to advocate for our child if it were NORMAL FUCKING KID STUFF. Excuse the language, that's just where I'm at right now.

Can y'all tell I'm sick of doing this?! I wish there were some sort of continued education course on trauma informed teaching, because this is really ridiculous and is doomed to continue unless something changes. Or maybe there is a course about that, but not everyone is interested in taking it, I don't know. I just know that after three years of having my kids in the same school district, not one single teacher of either of my boys have glanced at their files to see what their teachers have said the year before, or looked to see if they have diagnoses/history of any sort that would be pertinent to successfully teaching my child. And I should also point out that NONE have honored their IEP's and 504's without me letting them know they have accommodations in place later on. Yet for some reason, every one of them issue the same lines, as if they feel that they are putting me at ease by telling me how much experience they have teaching, how well they know children, and how 'normal' they seem to be, as if I've finally found my own 'Annie Sullivan' from the Miracle Worker or better yet, 'Jaime Escalante' from Stand and Deliver. Baaahahahahaaaa!! Jaime Escalante...P-LEASE!! 😂😂😂 Sorry, I'm not saying they all suck at teaching, because I know most of them are great teachers and lets face it, no one goes into teaching if they're not passionate about children. I know they mean well, I'm just saying that in my experience, they've all said the same dismissive things and fold halfway through the school year, beat down by my kids because none of their tools work. Look, if you're a teacher and you're reading this, please heed my words. This was not written to degrade you or to insult you, this is simply a frustrated parent of a kid from hard places, who needs to be heard and understood. We know how hard our children can be and we honestly want to work with you! We want to make sure you have a pleasant year with our child because we know first hand how difficult it can be. But we need you first to listen and understand that we want the same things you want for our kids, it just has to be accomplished with different tools, out of the box ideas, and working closely with us.

Anyway, there's no real lesson here, I'm just tired of the same old crap and needed to vent. So here's to all the parents of children from hard places enduring yet another school year. I hear you, I personally know what you're going through, and I wish you the best. One day we will be able to rest in knowing that we did everything we could to help our kids be successful, I just know it.

Peace and Love,

Hannah

Today I didn't fail

It's no secret, I have a tumultuous relationship with Noah, my 12yr old. Partly because he's 12 and has an over-sized attitude, but mostly because he has fought against having a relationship with me since the time he came here. I can go into what the experts say about kids from hard places, who are adopted, to let you know why he has been this way to me, but that is not the point of this blog. Just know that he holds a lot of resentment towards all moms/mother figures, specifically. And man is it tough! I mean, him being that way flat makes it difficult for me, the one on the reciprocating end, to actually want to continue to try after getting shut down and rejected over and over again. I can compare it to someone going into a burning house to save a pet or loved one. You know it's dangerous, you're going to get burned or may even die, but you do it anyway because you have to and have no other choice. That's exactly the way it feels trying to bond with a kid who does this. It can be very isolating, painful, and downright uncomfortable, and feeling like you're failing over and over is in itself, humiliating. Really, though, who likes to fail all the time?! Who literally signs up to do something again and again that they know they're going to fail at? Sounds ridiculous, right? Well that's because it is, and this is the way it feels for many adoptive parents at some point or another. This is not how I pictured adoption, either, but that's what I get from one of my children, anyway. I was not prepared to have a child in my home that I have a hard time liking some days. Make no mistake in my words, here, because I do love him, very much so. But liking him is a feat on bad days. He's a very likable and funny kid when he wants to be, and that's what has made all the bad times worth it up to this point. But his bad days are almost unbearable.





But today I didn't fail. Today I didn't fail when I was set up to fail. I did not fail despite the odds of failing so many times before, knowing I would most likely fail. Even knowing that failing again would hurt, I still nervously moved forward into the fire AND I DID NOT FAIL.

As the end of summer and the beginning of the new school year is approaching, Noah has been spiraling downward. His attitude has been foul, he has been super disrespectful to Bob and I, and ugly to his brother. Those that are in the foster/adoption community know about triggers, and any type of change can trigger these kids, who are so emotionally immature, into behaving terribly. This issue is even prevalent in children who aren't from hard places, but the backlash from it is worse from children from care who have no ability or very little ability to regulate their emotions. Tantrums that can last hours, putting the whole family through unimaginable stress. Visits to the mental hospital, respite homes, or residential treatment facilities are even common. This is what us parents have to deal with when transitions trigger our special kids. So back to what I was saying, Noah has been progressively getting worse, the closer we get to school starting. Bob and the boys got up early, while I slept in, this morning, and went school supplies shopping at Walmart. When they got home, I could tell that Noah was having a tough time by the look on his face, yet when I asked Bob about it, he stated that he was a great help at the store and didn't have any problems. Since I woke up late and missed breakfast, I left to CFA to get some lunch. When I came home, Bob had a worried look on his face and let me know that today was probably not going to be a good day. That while I was gone, Noah got ugly and pushed Asher and started crying, something he has notoriously done right before a huge blowup, but that he was currently in his room cooling off. I ate my food but was milling it over, knowing that the root of the issue was that he was nervous and upset about school starting, but didn't know if I should be the one to talk to him about it, being that he fights me so much. Everything inside me told me not to do it, that it was a bad idea. To let him cool down on his own to keep the peace in the house. But then again, I had a deep prodding voice inside saying that I am his mom, I know what he needs, and I shouldn't be afraid to step up, so that's what I did. However, I made up my mind that I was not going to lead with anything but love and understanding this time. That I was not going to let him frustrate me with his word play and condescending tone of voice, and would still lead with love in spite of his decision to reject me, in hopes that it would work. When I stood up and headed in that direction, Bobby was NOT happy about it, and reasonably so. He immediately got frustrated and said something along the lines of, "Great, I just want to have a good Saturday and not deal with what's about to happen." But I felt too compelled and went in there anyway. 

When I stepped into his room, I just calmly stated that I noticed he was struggling to be respectful and nice to everyone and that I wished he could somehow communicate with us to let us know what's going on with him so that he wasn't in such a bad mood all the time. I made a point to say that I was not angry with him, he wasn't in trouble, and that I was only in there because I loved him. I let him know that I thought it was because he was nervous about school starting and if he'd like to talk about it, I'm here for him. Right off the bat, he started with his same old tactics, talking about Asher, how he doesn't like what he does, that he's not even thinking about school, he's just normal, he doesn't know what I'm talking about and feels like everyone else is the problem. So I reiterated that I wasn't in there to talk about anyone else but him, that I noticed he has had issues getting along with everyone in the house, but I loved him, he wasn't in trouble, I wasn't angry, and was there for him. He continued to escalate, talked over me, got more combative with his words, and even started crying some. I stood there nervously proceeding, saying everything I said again, that I know it's because of school, and I loved him, and wasn't angry. He tried to continue talking about what others were doing wrong, so I repeated the same thing again, reiterating that my wishes were that he would talk to us about his worries instead of being ugly. I swear I must have repeated that same gesture several different ways at least ten times. But I guess he finally got to a point where he felt like he had nowhere else to go, so what he stored deep inside finally started spilling out. Through his tears he said loudly, "I'm not worried about the school bullies, because they probably all failed 6th grade anyway. I'm not worried because 7th grade schoolwork is going to be harder. I'm not worried because I know I'll have friends. I'm not worried, I'm just normal, and I don't know what you're talking about!!" So instead of listeing to him "not" being worried, I responded with, "Oh so that's what it is! Of course! And it's 100% normal for you to be worried about those things. I worried about all that myself when I was your age. I just wish you would talk about it instead of hold it in and be ugly to everyone." It was then that he looked up at me with a look in his eye that seemed to say 'help!' and said, "BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THAT!! I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW!! THAT TAKES TIME, I CAN'T JUST DO THAT SO EASILY!" and resumed bawling on the floor. I gently sat down on the floor with him, told him to come to me. Now picture him, a 12yo crawling up in my lap being held like a baby on the floor. I was so uncomfortable, out of my element, since everything inside me wanted to run because it felt unsafe. But then again, I had just stepped into exactly the element God created for me to be in. I hesitantly stroked his his face, told him I loved him, we all loved him as his family. I told him this is what parents are for, because he was not created to deal with the world and all his problems alone, that we were for him. I even said, "I know I don't tell you enough, but I love you, son. I worry about you, your well being and happiness all the time. I just want you to be happy, and part of that is wanting you to come to me when you're upset. That's my job as a mother. That's what being in a family is all about." He then sobbingly said, "So this is what I'm supposed to do? It may take time for me to learn this. I can't just do that so quickly." And I responded, "It's okay, I just need you to try. It's when you behave ugly that it hurts me and frustrates me. But if you come to me like this, I will always embrace you."

As I was holding him, tears streamed down my face. At the same time he was being healed, I was healing as well. At that moment, I noticed that he was taking deep breaths, so I asked, "Do you feel better now?" He said, "Yes, but I'm not sure why or how that worked." I told him, "Isn't that funny? It's the power of love and someone who cares for you, holding you and it works every time."  Before I got up and left his room, I took and looked down at his hands. I caressed them with my fingers, following every line with mine, feeling in my heart that, no, this hand was not as small as the hand I imagined my son would have so long ago, but that it was still meant to hold mine. God meant him for my family, ALL that encompasses Noah. No matter how dark the days are, God meant him for my family and he is MY son. I asked him if he wanted me to pray for him right there, like my parents did for me, or if not, I would pray for him when I laid down to go to sleep tonight, and he said, "No, just wait 'til you go to sleep. Your parents always did that for you?" I said, "Absolutely! Every time I had a problem I would talk to them about it and they would pray for me. They still do! Parents are supposed to be there for you until the day they die, and dad and I will do the same."

So today, I finally learned how to lead with pure love, in spite of fears, rejection, and frustrations. Just like the Bible says, LOVE NEVER FAILS, and by that truth, I did not fail today. I'm even crying as I'm typing this because that's how strong of a breakthrough it was. I know for a fact that the Lord was with me, because I had every voice in my head telling me not to go in there, but proceeded out of faith that maybe, JUST MAYBE, this time it will be different. So many other times I listened and stayed in my own safe place while my son was left to "burn in that house all alone," dealing with all of that on his own. God forgive me! Thank you Lord for pushing me past my comfort level to the breakthrough my son and I needed today. Oh God continue to break me and shape me into the woman and mother you want me to be. Do the same for other parent's reading this who are in the trenches of foster care and adoption. Push us past our comfort level into unimaginable growth with our children! Let us see past the hardness of these children's hearts and view them as the being you intended them to be, to see the way YOU see them God. May we never give up, even though we fall, may we always shake the dust off and try again. Thank you God for our calling, the purpose by which you created us. To fulfill a high calling of being a father and mother to the lonely and fatherless, a help to those in need. Amen!


Signed,
Hannah Biffel