Foster Care Confessions: Today Was Hard

Today has been like something straight out of the book of Revelations. There has been weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth...along with slamming doors and lots of hurt feelings. Emotions have been from one end of the spectrum to the other at least 150 times all in a 12hr period. It has been PTSD at its finest (or should I say at its worst). Today no one was safe from the effects and no room was safe to hide in. Many, MANY talks were had and many deep breaths were breathed. However, anyone who knows PTSD and anxiety knows that rational thinking and control are not pieces at play on the board. It's a delicate balance of setting boundaries and calming storms. It's not about lectures and punishment. It's not about "rewards" or discipline. It's about being the hands and feet of Jesus in action as you sit in the bedroom floor while it all falls apart. It's about bringing the Spirit of peace into the situation of chaos and intense pain.
It's days like today when I truly understand why people are hesitant, even resistant to this journey of foster care. It's hard, like really hard. (I've talked before about counting the cost.) I get it. Days like today are hard on everyone. My kiddos weren't being "brats", they were living out emotions that they never asked for and have no idea how to handle. They have lost control of everything, actually, they have lost everything and they are trying to deal with it the best they can. I don't fault them for losing it. I've seen grown adults handle life the same way. My kiddos have faced complex trauma that they cannot even put into words and they are at least trying. Yet, that doesn't make days like today any easier. They scream it out at the top of their lungs. They cry tears until their bodies physically can't cry anymore. They hurt the only way they know how.
Then there's us. We are doing the best we can to be the calm in the storm. We are trying to just hold the walls of the house up while they try to shake it down. That's what we do. We can't promise them a whole lot of things in this journey of uncertainty, but we can promise them that we won't let them walk through this pain alone. God made that promise to us; we make that promise to them. That's what we do in foster care. We may not get to pass along a lot of the same joyful moments experienced in biological families, but we can pass along the promises forged in the valley of the shadow. God never promised us our journey would be easy, He promised He would go with us. Our journey in Christ is sometimes unknown to us, but it's not lonely-just like that of the children who come into our home.
Right now, I have no idea what tomorrow holds. I have a pretty good feeling it will be more of the same. I'm also pretty sure the next couple of weeks will be more of the same as we settle into new routines and transitions take place. Change always upsets the natural order and causes eruptions. This is the life of children with trauma, though. This is the real life of being a part of healing children from very deep wounds. It's not cupcakes and rainbows. It's messy and painful and exhausting. And I absolutely recommend it. It stretches your heart in ways you didn't know it could. It makes you realize how selfish you were before they came along. It makes you realize just how much you can love another human being. It awakens you to how much you truly depend on God for every moment of every day to simply raise a child.(Yes, we become of aware of this when we have our own children but it's not the same. We carry them for 9 months and plan and prepare for them. They are easy to love. Foster children do not grow within our womb, they grow in our hearts so that love is a totally different awakening.) You become aware of what real hurt and poverty is and how God can and will use you for His sake once you just say 'yes'. Then you look at these children and you realize all of this has been waiting all along for someone just like you.