I don't know how I got the idea. Maybe someone alluded to it in one of our foster parent training sessions, but regardless of how it developed, I had convinced myself that most of the boys' issues would be resolved once they were adopted. I believed that once they were assured that they were forever safe and loved that they would not struggle as much. And although things are much better than they were at the beginning, there are still a few big struggles that confront us daily.
A couple weeks ago, I was grumpy. I couldn't nail down why I was in such a bad mood, but there was no denying that I was snapping at everyone. As the day progressed, and I began to take off my Oscar the Grouch persona, I tried to figure out what made me so irritable. I realized that it was the disappointment of not being able to get a break that day from the struggle. I was tired of the daily struggle. I realized that when I look at my son, I sometimes am just waiting for the next lie or the next battle. And I was tired.
That night in church as I sat listening to Sheila Walsh's testimony of abuse and the consequential struggles she faced for years, I began to be overwhelmed by the realization that my son may be struggling with the effects of his abuse for years. There wasn't going to be an easy fix by just swearing before a judge that we loved him and would never get rid of him because he did something bad. There is not going to be a magical conversation that I am going to have with him that will heal him of all his fears. This is a long, hard, tiring road. He is broken, and I can't fix him.
When I felt like the weight of his broken world was on my shoulders, our pastor began a special prayer time. He asked that those of us who needed prayer stand. I remember wanting to pull my son up to his feet. Then our pastor said we could stand up for someone else who needed prayer. And as I rose to my feet, standing in place of my son, the tears began to fall. Tears for all the indescribable pain he had to endure and now try and move past. Tears for the times when I failed to be as patient with him as I should be. Tears for the years of struggle that lie ahead of us.
The band began to play the song "Stronger" and it was a song that spoke to me when we were wondering if Isabella would leave. I love that it reminds me that God is stronger than any stronghold I might face. He is stronger than any stronghold my child battles. The bridge of the song says "Let His name be lifted higher," and that has been my prayer in each step of this fostering/adopting journey. I want God's name to be lifted higher as a result of our steps of faith. I have seen God do amazing things to bring us these three wonderful children, things that are only attributable to Him. Now I must take comfort that He will also do the same with my son. Although it may be years down the road, I hold on to the hope that God will get the glory for the healing in that precious boys' heart.
So we press on knowing that God takes what is broken and makes it new.
