A New Perspective

I haven’t written much lately, at least not on the blog. I haven’t really felt as though I have much to share. We have some very important days coming up, like a review hearing of our foster son’s case, but I want to keep things as confidential as possible, so I haven’t written much. But I want to get back into the swing of writing, so here I am.

One thing that I do want to share is how my “new year’s resolution” is going. Let me just say that I do not make New Year’s Resolutions, primarily because I will not keep them, but also because I am one of those people who believe that any day is a good day to start something new (as long as the something new is a good thing). Anyhow, I did decide to try, once again this year, to read through the entire bible in one year.

I’ve tried it before and failed miserably. Even with my fancy schmancy Chronological One Year Bible in the New International Version. But something is different this year. Actually, a couple of things are different.

First, I invited my church bible study group to read it with me. Not everyone was interested, but two other members of my home group have agreed to do it with me and each week, I get out the “table of truth” and we get gold stars if we are up to date with our reading. If we did some reading that week, but we’re a bit behind, we still get a silver star. This makes it fun and gives me some accountability and truth be told, it probably is my best motivator for getting the reading done. I have a tendency to be an over achiever and I NEED that gold star. However, the second thing that has helped me tremendously and has been much more enriching than the “table of truth”, has been reading the old testament with a fresh attitude about God. It’s amazing!

You know how you always look for mannerisms or behaviors to confirm your assumptions or judgments about people? Maybe I am the only one who does this, but I have to tell you that once I make up my mind about someone’s character, I am not likely to change it, even in the face of some strong evidence to the contrary. I am loyal, to a fault. I can also be a bit hard to win over if you fall on the other side of my graces. I am still very, very angry at the person in the silver little sports car that ran the stop sign in the intersection near my house and I now have a very strong prejudice against drivers of little silver sports cars.

Anyway, back to the point, how has this affected my bible reading? Well, I believe that somewhere deep down, I had decided that God was mean. That He was a vengeful, hateful, spiteful God who really didn’t want me to have fun and really didn’t care much about me, except that He was waiting to pounce on me anytime I did anything wrong.

My view of God started changing about 14 years ago. It started changing when I started really and truly spending time studying who God was. It kept changing when I started going to my church that I’ve gone to now for about 10 years. It is a grace filled church. You can completely and totally mess up and you are still loved and accepted. You can have a serious struggle with something that is clearly wrong and my church will meet you where you are and help you find the tools necessary for you to get back on the right path. No self righteousness, no judgment, just love. My view of God kept changing when I did a study of the Psalms and read about the trust that the Psalmist had in God and the many promises that God makes to His children. Over the past 14 years, instead of thinking that God is a mean, vengeful God, I’ve started asking the question: what really is true about God’s character?

So now I am reading the old testament with a completely new view of God. A God who loved me enough to die for me. A God who loves me enough to continue to invite me back into relationship with Him even when I have ignored Him or committed acts that I know displease Him. A God full of mercy and love and grace. And He is awesome. It is a magnificent experience to read about Him in the old testament and realize that He was the same then as He is now. I couldn’t see it before, because I was looking for confirmation of Him as mean and angry and vengeful. But now, I see it. I see how He protected the first man who committed murder (Cain). I see how he protected the children of the Israelites from being sacrificed to the pagan gods by forbidding them to worship or make sacrifices to those gods. I see how He gave Israel chance after chance after chance to see His miracles and believe. I see a God whom I want to serve.

I want to encourage others, especially those who are trying to figure out who God is, to read about Him, not with a mind that is already made up, but with a mind that is searching to know more about Him. I cannot claim to have God figured out, but I can say that reading about God with a heart and mind that is open to learning about who He is has given me a completely new perspective on Him and He’s not bad. Really. But don’t take my word for it, go find out for yourself. Maybe you’ll get a totally new perspective, too.

New Year and New Direction

We lost our baby girl on Thursday, December 18, 2008.  It was sad, but so sweet.  Our veterinarians were wonderful to us and our baby girl.  She passed away while surrounded by people who knew and loved her and we were blessed to have them there to support us and to express their affection for our baby girl.  It was very comforting, but it was a very sad way to end 2008.  I am hoping that 2009 will be a year with less sadness and uncertainty and more celebration and peace.

On to the new year and the new direction.  This really has nothing to do with a new year’s resolution.  What it truly has to do with is repentance.  Yes, a heavy subject, but, I believe, a beautiful one.

Our pastor told some of us during a meeting last night that his sermon on Sunday would be on repentance.  Now most people do not like this topic since they associate it with guilt and shame.  I see it so differently and I am so very excited to be a participant in the service on Sunday.  Let me tell you why.

First, all too often, I am so busy bringing concerns about my every day life to God that I forget to examine my relationship with him.  One of the psalmists prayers was that God would search him and let him know of any offensive ways in him.  Isn’t that how we all should approach God?  Isn’t that how we all would approach a close friend about whom we care deeply?  Wouldn’t we want to know of, and apologize for, any offensives that we may have committed against that person?  I need to set aside time more regularly to ask God how I have offended Him and to apologize to Him for those offenses.  This is an opportunity for that to happen.

Second, there is almost nothing  I want more than to be in a close, intimate relationship with God.  Note that I said almost, because, let’s be honest, sometimes, there are things that I do want more, even if they won’t satisfy me.  I believe that one of the first steps to being in that kind of relationship with God is to repent.  It puts everything right between us, because God is our most forgiving and gracious friend.  There is no groveling with Him.  There is no shame and no guilt.  There is only the opportunity to be back in a relationship with Him that will bless us and change us.

If you grew up in a church like I did, you may not feel so positively about the word repentance, but let’s examine what repentance means.

Some definitions of repentance are feeling remorse or sorrow for wrongdoing and that is part of it because we should feel remorse for doing wrong, but we should not stay there.  Another definition, and the one that gives me the best picture of what my action must be in order to repent, is to turn away from sin.  I have to stop going in the direction that is offending God, turn away from it and begin moving in a new direction, toward God.  It is acknowledging that I am going in the wrong direction (this is where I would probably feel remorse or sorrow over what I have done) and then choosing a new direction that takes me toward God.

The fantastic thing about God is that if we repent of our sins, He is faithful to forgive us (1 John 1:9).  This is so amazing to me.  What an awesome God!  All I have to do is turn my back on my sins and they are gone.  Again, no guilt, no shame, just forgiveness.  And this isn’t just a one time thing, it is an infinite thing.  God knows that I am weak.  He knows that no matter how many times I turn away from impure thoughts, I am very likely to return to them.  But that does not stop Him from forgiving me.  I cannot think of a better God to serve.  I cannot think of another God who offers such infinite love and mercy.  I promise you, of all the people and things that I choose to serve, the only one who has the capacity to love me and to forgive me over and over again, is the one true God.

So, here it is, a new year and I am choosing a new direction and I cannot wait to see what it will bring!

Coping with Grief

I am going through a very dark time in my life right now.  I found out on Tuesday that not only does my baby girl have leukemia, but a childhood friend, my maid of honor at my wedding, also has leukemia.  Although my friend and I are not incredibly close, since we live about 1,500 miles apart and we have very different lives, this news still devestates me.  My friend is the only person that I remain in contact with from our high school.  I had friends in high school that I used to hang out with more, but none who have been as faithful as this friend.  She has always searched me out when I have fallen off the face of the earth and she has always been more than willing to just pick up where we left off. 

To learn that this friend has leukemia has just brought a new level of grief into my life.  I was already grieving and didn’t really want to experience any more grief, thank you very much, but I suppose that God has other plans for me.  Right now, I would like to tell God that his plans don’t seem so good and I would like for him to create a different plan for me, IMMEDIATELY, but that doesn’t really seem like a wise thing to do, seeing as how, well, He’s God and, well, I’m not.  So that leaves me with only one choice (is it a choice if there is only one option?  I’m not sure that it is):  go through the grief.

How exactly do you get through grief?  I am not claiming to have the answer, but I do have some ways of coping with my grief that I’d like to share and if there are any readers out there (besides me – yes, I read my own blog, sometimes I enlighten myself) I would love to hear about other ways to cope with grief.

Here’s what I have done so far:

1.  Journaling:  I bought a beautiful journal with scripture or inspiring comments on each page shortly after my baby girl was diagnosed with leukemia.  Since then I have tried to write in my journal as often as possible.  I like to write about the cute things that my baby girl does and how I am feeling about losing her.  It hurts sometimes to go back and read about how, just a few weeks ago, she still had enough energy to play with her brother, but I am glad that I am recording the memories so that at some point, when the pain is not as sharp, I can use my journal to remind me of the snatches of happiness that came even in such a dark time.

2.  Praying:  There is no better listener than God.  I would say that He never interrupts me, but that’s not always true.  Sometimes He does.  But when He does, it is always to speak to me about the most amazing things.  Sometimes it is about things that I already know, but need to be reminded of, sometimes it is something entirely new, but it is always about Him reminding me of who He is and that He is there and is listening and He does have a purpose for everything.

3.  Exercising:  I love to run, so for me, running enables me to do something I enjoy AND get all the benefits of exercise as well: elevated mood (which for now is still pretty low, but I’ll take any improvement I can get), increased immune function (which is a real need when you are under stress or are grieving since your immune system takes a real hit),  and better sleep (depression can interfere with sleep and there have been several nights when I have woken up and started crying over my baby girl, but I am still getting better quality sleep than if I had not exercised at all) just to name a few.  It’s also a great distraction for me, since when I run on the treadmill, I put on my headphones and concentrate on the music. 

4.  Talking:  Right now, my husband and my friends are my therapists.  I have to tell you, I really do have some of the most wonderful friends and I know I have the absolute BEST husband in the universe.  They have all listened to me, oh so very patiently, as I have talked about all the yuckiness that I am going through right now.  My church home group basically just let me rant and rave for our entire meeting the week before last.  It was the best thing they could have done for me.  They literally were the arms of Jesus wrapping me in a giant hug that night and their kindness was a tangible reminder that no matter how bad my circumstances are, God loves me.  My circumstances are not an indicator of God’s love, but the care and concern for me by those He has placed in my life are.

5.  Crying:  I have been crying and crying and crying.  At home, at work, in the car.  In the middle of the night.  In the morning.  I feel like a complete goob, but two friends reminded me of something that I had told someone else before:  it is OK to grieve.  I am human.  I have feelings.  It is not wrong to express those feelings.  Crying is how I am expressing those feelings.  I need to give myself permission to experience those feelings and not expect to go through a painful season in life stuffing all those feelings until they come out in some other, very unhealthy way.  It gave me a real sense of freedom to allow myself to grieve.  Yes, I would prefer not to be walking around at work with tears streaming down my cheeks, but I am no longer caught in the vicious cycle of being upset because my baby girl is dying, then being upset because I am upset, then becoming more upset, etc., etc., etc.

6.  Hoping:  I do not mean hoping in the sense of denial, although I do, at times, find myself going there.  I do mean looking forward and realizing that there is HOPE.  Maybe not for my baby girl to be healed (maybe so, but I am not in control of that), but there is hope that one day I will be out of this valley.  I have not even experienced the worst of it, I am sure, but it will not last forever.  One day, I will realize that even though there may still be pain, there is also once again the opportunity for joy.  I will have to make a choice to either stay where there is more pain, or move toward the joy.  I suspect that it will always hurt when I think about the loss of my baby girl, but I also suspect that I can choose to think of the wonderful things she brought with her when she became part of our family and that someday, it will be easier to make that choice.  This is not a power of positive thinking strategy.  I am not a big believer in that philosophy.  I do believe, though, in moving forward and experiencing healing.  I have said several times that God promises us that He will heal our broken hearts and I believe that, but I do have to accept His healing and when He leads me through the valley of the shadow of death (notice that the scripture does not say that He leads me into the valley and leaves me there, nor does it say that He leads me around of the valley of the shadow of death - He leads me through it, from beginning to end) I need to follow Him.  I do not believe that it is God’s will for me to be stuck in the valley.  He will lead me, but that implies that I have to follow Him in order to get through it.

So there they are.  Six of the ways that I am currently coping with grief.  I wish I could say that I am being a super-trooper and am not asking God to explain why this is happening or to make it all go away, but I am trying to remember that 33 years ago, I told God that I wanted Him to be my leader and even though there have been many, many, many times when I have gone back on my promise to follow Him, He never has gone back on His promise to me that He will lead me.  So I am following Him, sometimes lagging behind, sometimes whining and complaining, but always grateful when He stops so I can catch up or when He meets me where I have fallen and waits for me to follow Him once again.

Like Watching a Train Wreck

Last Tuesday, we went to the veterinary oncologist to see if there was a viable treatment plan for our baby girl that would significantly improve the length and quality of her life.  While we were there, the vet said that it is still uncertain as to what type of lymphoproliferative disease our baby girl has: acute or chronic.  The vet said that while the bone marrow results were indicating that it is acute disease, her blood markers are indicating that it is chronic.  She said that there was also still one other possibility, which would be worse than either chronic or acute leukemia and that would be acute myeloid leukemia, which is very rare, but is sometimes discovered in cases like Kayla’s where the bone marrow says one thing and the blood results say another.  Acute myeloid leukemia is very bad.  Very aggressive.  No real successful treatment.

This whole ordeal has been like watching a train wreck.  We can see that something bad is going to happen and that it can’t be stopped, we just don’t know how bad the damage will be until after impact.  Well, now we know. 

The oncologist called yesterday afternoon.  It is acute myeloid leukemia.  Her expected survival time is about two weeks.

I think I was in shock yesterday.  I cried some one the phone with the vet, but my mind immediately shifted into planning mode.  Plans for a Thanksgiving at the lake:  cancelled.  Plans for Christmas:  travel, but likely with only one dog instead of two.  Plans for two weeks from now:  laying my baby girl to rest.

In some ways, this was a merciful result.  There is no agonizing over whether to treat her, any treatment that we would pursue would only increase her life span by 4 – 6 weeks and would not even increase her quality of life appreciably during that time.  It will be fast.  There will not be months of watching and waiting.  The oncologist said that she won’t really be in pain, she’ll just get weaker and weaker and will eventually stop eating or even trying to get up to go outside.  At that point, we’ll know that it is time for us to let her go.

I am trying to be grateful for those mercies and for the other blessings that I have in my life right now.  It is not easy.  It is barely even possible.  All I can think about is the fact that my baby girl is getting sicker and sicker by the hour.  Each wag of her tail, each bark, each contented sigh that she makes while I rub her ears or belly may be the last.

I started a journal the week before last to try to capture my memories of some of our baby girl’s last good moments.  It is therapeutic and masochistic at the same time.  I read about her playing ball a week and a half ago.  She doesn’t really have the energy to do that anymore and so I cried at the realization that I had captured in writing the last time that she will chase after her ball with such passion and drive.  It is so painful to watch her waste away before my very eyes and yet I don’t see any other alternative.  As long as she is not in pain and can enjoy simple things I do not want to end her life.  So I become an observer of the terrible events that this disease has put into motion, waiting for the moment of ultimate impact so that the damage can be assessed and the wreckage cleared away.

And there will be wreckage.  Our first trip to our place at the lake without her is going to be more painful than words can express.  She and her older brother usually swam twice a day each day that we were there.  People would go out on their balconies and watch the two of them run and play in the grassy area between the condos and the boat docks.  The children would come watch our baby girl launch herself off the dock in pursuit of whatever was being thrown out into the water for her to retrieve, but actually, she just liked the thrill of the jump.  People will ask us questions like “Where’s the other dog?” and “Don’t you have two dogs?”.  We will have to explain to them, without completely breaking down, that our younger lab is no longer with us.  We will have to pack up her crate and put away her bed and towels at our lake house.  The wounds of grief will be re-opened and more memories will come crashing down on us reminding us of our lost baby girl.

My grief over losing my baby girl has given me a new appreciation for anyone who is suffering from clinical depression or the grief of losing someone very close to them.  I am beginning to understand how it feels to be paralyzed by grief; to want to escape the feelings that overwhelm every other thought that tries to enter my mind.   In the end, though, it is making me a more compassionate and understanding person.   It is another gift from my baby girl.

Why is it SO hard?

I’ve had the same conversation over the last few months with several different people.  The question that invariably has started these conversation is:  if achieving a goal is incredibly difficult, does that mean that God is using circumstances to let us know that it is not His will?

I must emphatically answer NO, NO, NO!!!!

This answer is not based upon my desire to pursue a goal despite multiple indications that it is going to be very difficult to achieve that goal.  This answer is based upon God’s own word.

Looking back at many of the major events in the bible, we see many, many, many examples of God’s people doing EXACTLY what they are supposed to do and encountering EXTREME difficulty.

Let’s consider just one example for now:  Moses. 

First, his mother had to release him, or he would be killed, as required by the Pharoah.  This could not have been easy, especially since she had to place him, a tiny 3 month old baby, into a basket, place that basket into the Nile and trust God to do the rest.  I am no wildlife expert, but a brief internet search revealed that wildlife common in the Nile valley currently includes many crocodiles and hundreds of years ago included hippos and lions.  Not exactly what I would like my 3 month old to be encountering.

Fast forward a bunch of years (yes, I am very exact).  Moses has murdered a man, run away from his home land in fear of the Pharoah, who wanted to kill Moses for killing that man, gotten married and lived in a foreign land for several years.  Finally, God tells Moses to go back to Egypt (where he had been a wanted man) and tell the Pharoah to let the Israelites go.  Moses, being sane and a little disobedient, immediately responded by telling God no and giving him a plethora of excuses, in effect saying:  God, what you are asking is too hard; I don’t have the status to appear before the Pharoah, no one will believe me, and I cannot speak well on top of everything else.

Of course, none of this was news to God (amazing how God already knows our weaknesses before He asks us to do something, isn’t it?).  Finally, Moses even says to God, send someone else and God  tells Moses that He will send Moses’s brother, Aaron with him, but not in his place. 

So I can’t recap the entire story here, it would be way, way, way too long (but it is a great story and if you have not read it recently, or ever, I would encourage you to read Exodus, Chapters 1 – 13), but Moses ends up going to the Pharoah 12 times (if I counted correctly).  TWELVE times!  Not until Pharoah had made life miserable for the Isrealites, himself experienced plagues of flies, locusts, and boils, plagues on his livestock, hail storms, water turning into blood and the death of all of the firstborn sons and firstborn male animals that were not protected by the blood of a sacrifice, did he finally agree to let the Isrealites go.

I have to say that never, never, never, not even once, do I think that Moses encountered the Pharoah’s refusal, not once, not twice, but TWELVE times, because it was NOT God’s will that Moses be doing exactly what God Himself told him to do.  God was accomplishing His purposes.  He was demonstrating his sovereignty.  He was preparing Moses for an even larger battle ahead.  He was working to make the Egyptians so sick of the Isrealites that they would literally PAY them to leave.

Sometimes, things are just plain old hard.   Even the things that God is calling us to do.  Sometimes, we don’t know why they’re so hard.  But one thing I can say with certainty is:  just because it is hard, does not mean it is NOT God’s will.

I wish I could say that I have a fool proof way to figure out if something IS God’s will, but I don’t.  There are indicators of God’s will and others, with much more knowledge than I, have written well on the subject, but I myself am not an expert on determining God’s will.  I do know that God NEVER calls us to do something that He has clearly forbidden (adultery is an example of one of those things).  I also know, though, that sometimes good things are NOT what He is calling us to do, sometimes He is calling us to do the BEST thing, which may be very, very, very hard. 

Sometimes, we don’t always hear what God is calling us to do and we can get it wrong, but please, please, please, don’t give up just because circumstances are not working in your favor.  Ask God about what you’re doing.  Ask Him to give you confirmation of the path that you are on, even if it seems like you should be exiting immediately. 

If you are one of those people who believes that following God means that life will be easy and will be smooth sailing, please take some time to read about the journeys of the people that God has used before.  Ask yourself if Paul’s life was smooth sailing.  Read about Joseph (in Genesis 37 and 39-50) and see if his life seemed easy after his brother’s threw him into a pit and sold him into slavery, but then see what God accomplished for an entire people through what Joseph experienced.

We are only humans.  We don’t always know what God is doing (and sometimes, but only sometimes, I am glad, because to know what lies ahead would probably scare me to death, but I think that I want to know).  We may not always be around to see the ultimate result of God’s work through the difficulties that we encounter, but we can take heart when we feel like asking the question “Why is it SO hard?” because God is  working and He will use us, if we say yes and keep doing what God is asking of us, even when it is SO hard.

Video of Baby Girl

I am so thankful for our veterinarian’s office.  They have been so very, very good to us during this time.  I panicked on Monday, and rushed our baby girl to the vet, scared that she was bleeding internally and would require a transfusion.  Not only did they somehow, amidst a crazy schedule, manage to squeeze us in, but the veterinarian came out to my car to examine our baby girl so that I would not have to drag our foster son and our baby girl into the crowded office.

During our baby girl’s (whose name is Kayla, by the way) recovery from testing last week, one of the veterinary technician’s got a video of Kayla “smiling”.  It looks very scary, but she is the gentlest, sweetest girl, she just uses her “smile” to let you know that she is scared.  It’s one of the unique and special things that we love about our baby girl.  I’m hoping that I can post the video here (I am not the most technologically savvy blogger, let me just say).

When the Darkness Closes In

I am still reeling today.  Yesterday it was confirmed.  My baby girl is dying.  She may live 8 more weeks.  We’re not really sure.  She has acute lymphoblastic leukemia.

I am filled with more sorrow than I thought possible.  I have grieved the passing of my father and mother, but it was very different.  My parents knew that they were sick before they died.  They were also in their 70′s and, truthfully, they were ready to go.  My baby girl is not.  She does not know that she is sick.  And she most certainly is not ready to die.  And I am not ready for her to die either.

Oh, this is so hard.  I cry on the outside for a little while and then when the tears are all dried up, I just keep crying on the inside.

We played ball today.  I didn’t want to throw the ball to her too many times because her platelets are so low that if she is injured in any way, she might start bleeding internally and there might not be anything that veterinary medicine can do to stop it.  As the ball bounced on the ground, so did my tears.

I want so badly to explain to her why I am not playing with her as much.  I want to tell her to be careful, so that she can be with us for as long as possible.  I want this all to GO AWAY.

I am in total and complete darkness.  In uncharted territory.  This is not darkness in a place in which I am familiar and can feel my way like a midnight trip to the loo.  I have not been here before, in the throes of grief for a loved one who should have more time with us.  I am standing in the midst of pitch black darkness with no knowledge of where to go.  There is no pinpoint of light at the end of this tunnel.  This is not a tunnel.  It is a pit.  Of despair.

But, because God is a God of mercy, others have been in this pit before me.  If I look back several thousands of years ago, I will see that many of God’s beloved children have been in pits, literal and figurative.  Joseph was literally thrown into a pit by his brothers.  David talks of being rescued by God from the slimy pit.

I am not alone.  Now, David was not mourning the loss of his pet labrador retriever, when he wrote Psalm 40, he was mourning the loss of his very foundation.  David doesn’t tell us exactly what his sins were, but he states that his sins had overtaken him, and sin, of course, separates us from God, so David’s firm footing with God was shaky, not that God would ever turn his back on one of His children, but that we so often, in our shame, hesitate to approach God.  Thankfully, that was not David’s response to his own sin.  David’s response was one of acknowledgment that he had sinned and a plea for mercy.

Here comes the greatest part:  God rescued David!  Daivd tells us that the Lord heard his cry and lifted him out of the slimy pit and set his feet on a rock and gave him firm footing once again.

What does all this have to do with my baby girl and my being in a dark, bottomless pit?  Well, it does not mean that God is going to reach down and heal my baby girl, although He most certainly could do that if he so chose.  What it DOES mean is that He hears my cries.  He hears my distress.  And at some point, He will come and rescue me.

I have no idea what that rescue will look like for me in this situation.  I have no idea if it means that He will give me peace during this time or if it means that He will restore to me what I have lost through another exceptional companion like my baby girl.  But here’s the important part:  I do not have to know WHAT He will do.  I just have to know WHO He is and that, when the time is perfect, He will be true to who He is and He will rescue me.

I just wish that perfect time were now.  Of course, that is another part of David’s Psalm:  He waited patiently for the Lord.  So, I will wait (I’m going to have to work on the patiently part).  And when the darkness closes in, I will remember that my rescuer is on His way.

Grief and Thanksgiving

A lot has happened since my last post.  Last week, our younger, female yellow labrador, began vomiting.  This is not an unusual occurrence in our household, since both of our labs tend to explore the world through their mouths and as such can ingest any number of strange things (we’ve found screws, washers, rocks, and other various non-edible items as the culprits for many previous episodes of vomiting).

Thinking that it was just another routine case of gastroenteritis, I continued on with life as normal.  Not until there had been 5 episodes of vomiting did I become concerned.  After the 5th episode, I promptly called the vet for an immediate appointment.  We got a mid-morning appointment and I figured that by that evening, we would have a treatment plan and all would be on its way back to normal.

There is now a new normal in our house.  Grief.  Overwhelming, crushing, grief.

But grief is not all there is.  There is an undercurrent of thanksgiving.  A subtle recognition of the blessings that we do have, in the presence of impending loss of one of those blessings.  An acknowledgment that the loss could not occur without the blessing.  A realization that in the midst of grief there will always be reason to praise and give thanks.

Here is the rest of the story.

After running some routine blood tests on our younger lab (hereafter referred to as baby girl as she has been known for the last 6 years), the veterinarian said that there were some abnormalities.  Our baby girl’s platelets were low and she was slightly anemic.  Still no real cause for major concern; these results could have been from a lab error or from a tick borne disease.  So more tests were run.  Baby girl was sent home with instructions to return early the next morning.

More blood tests were run.  Her platelets were the same.  No lab error.  Her white count was a little elevated.  This was more cause for concern, but still not a clear indicator of impending doom since this result could be caused by many factors.  Still, we were instructed to bring our baby girl back for more tests after the weekend.

The weekend at our house was a bit subdued.  Not because of any knowledge of challenges to come, but in an effort to help our baby girl recover.  There was no question that she would recover, just a question of how long it would take and how we could best expedite it.

Monday came.  Another trip to the vet.  More blood work.  This time, the results could not be ignored.  Baby girl’s platelets had continued to decline.  Her white count had continued to increase.  This trend is not good.  Over the course of 4 days, she had lost 19,000 platelets.  This rate of decline, if continued, could result in spontaneous internal bleeding in a few days.  The explanations for these changes were grim.  For the first time, the L word was spoken aloud.  Leukemia.

My first thought:  the Lord gives and the Lord takes away.

My second thought:  if I praise Him for giving our baby girl to us, then I need to praise Him even when He may be taking her away.

My third thought:  how in the world can I praise God in the midst of feeling as though the part of my soul that is capable of praise has ceased to exist?

On Tuesday came short lived hope.  Another vet looked at the results of all the tests run on baby girl to date and just couldn’t imagine that it would be leukemia in a dog so young.  He thought that the results may all still have been pointing towards a tick borne illness.  We were still awaiting the results of the tests that would tell us if our baby girl had a tick borne illness.  Even so, the recommendation was to bring baby girl back to the vet on Wednesday for more tests:  an abdominal ultrasound and, if the tick panel came back negative, a bone marrow aspiration.

Early Wednesday morning, baby girl went back to the vet.  We again tried to function somewhat normally, although I had taken off work because on Tuesday I went to work and was basically a mess for the entire time I was there.  So we waited.  Everytime the phone rang, I would stop what I was doing and rush to see who was calling.  Finally, the call came.  First, the good news:  baby girl’s abdomen appeared fairly normal on ultrasound with the exception of a slightly enlarged spleen.  Then came the crushing blow:  the tick panel was negative, her white count had increased since Monday, her platelets had decreased since Monday.  The bone marrow aspiration was an absolute necessity.

The tears that I cried on Monday and Tuesday were again released.  There is no good treatment for acute leukemia in dogs.  The disease can claim the life of its victim in mere days after diagnosis.  The most that we can hope for if acute leukemia is confirmed is a few months.  Our baby girl had been sleeping more and playing less each day since last Thursday.  I don’t know if it is in response to the disease ravaging her body, or in response to the grief that now covers our home.

I don’t know what the future holds for us and for our baby girl.  We are now awaiting the results of the bone marrow aspiration.

Baby girl came home last night.  Her stomach was shaved so that the vet could do the abdominal ultrasound.  Her left hip was shaved and has two stitches and a staple in it where they tried to do the bone marrow aspiration, but were unsuccessful.  Her left shoulder was shaved and has stitches where they were able to get bone marrow on the second attempt.  Her right forearm is shaved where they had to put in an IV to sedate her and give her pain medications for the bone marrow procedure.  She still has her gorgeous face, with her large, dark brown eyes, but the rest of her body has already been ravaged, if not by the disease, then by the search for the name of the disease.

Baby girl was very quiet last night.  Amazingly, she was able to hop up on the sofa.  We took comfort in that small sign of normalcy.  We were thankful that she was able to sleep in her usual spot.

This morning, baby girl is feeling better.  She is perched in her chair at the window, watching all the people and cars pass by our house.  She does not understand all the attention she is receiving.  We’re not sure what our older lab understands.  He seems to be behaving more gently with her right now and again, we are thankful.  The tears continue to flow.  Even when my eyes are dry, my soul is weeping, sometimes quietly, sometims in wrenching waves of pain.

In many ways, it is not easy to be thankful, but in other ways, I am overflowing with thankfulness.

I keep asking myself why should I be thankful and how can I be thankful?  It seems to deny logic to be thankful in the midst of such grief and impending loss.  And yet, again, I recognize that without the blessings I have received, I would not now be experiencing such grief and loss.

If we had never been blessed with our baby girl, we would have nothing to lose or to grieve, but this is only the beginning of the things that I have found to be thankful for in the midst of this tragedy.

We have friends from church who, 2 years ago, lost their 4 year old yorkie to lymphoma.  We are grateful that we know that they will understand our grief and that they will not question the depth of our love for a non-human member of our family.

We have been blessed financially to be able to pay for the testing that will tell us, with certainty, if our baby girl has leukemia.

We have been blessed with a marriage that is a safe place to experience grief, each in our own way.

God has been good.  God is good.  God will be good.  And I am grateful.

He never promised me that I would not have pain and grief.  He does promise me that He will not leave me or forsake me.  He promises me that He will heal my broken heart.  He promises me that He will help me carry my burdens if I surrender them to Him.  And I do.  I will.  I am.

I am not alone.  My pain and grief do not go unnoticed.  Even now, God is offering comfort, through friends, through His word, through the joy of having my baby girl with me for today.

There is never a time when God does not deserve my praise and thanksgiving.  This time is no different.  He is God.  He is good.  I am giving thanks for who He is.  He never changes, even when my circumstances, and I, do.  He is constant.  He is like a rock.  He is solid and unmoving.  He can provide shelter and a handhold in the midst of a storm. 

And I am in a storm. 

But it will not last forever.  When it is over, I do not want to find that I let go of the rock that could have been my shelter or my anchor.  I do not want to find that I allowed myself to drift away from Him.  I do not even have to use my own strength to hold onto Him.  I just have to ask Him to give me that strength.

What a wonderful God.  I am so thankful.

Loving Your Foster Child’s Parents

God is at work in me again.  Actually, He pretty much has to work in me non-stop around-the-clock.  I am not the most spiritual person, nor do I have the quietest, gentlest spirit.  I have taken those spiritual gift tests to see what gifts I might have, let me just tell you now, I do NOT have the gift of mercy, nor do I have the gift of service.

It’s ironic that God would place me in the role of foster parent.  A role that requires a great deal of mercy and that is a daily call to serve.  Very funny.

The neat thing, though, is that I am learning mercy and I am serving others.  It’s not easy.  Sometimes I resent my foster son’s parents.  Especially when confronted with the possibility that my foster son may be reunited with his birth parents, I begin to grumble about being a free baby sitter during one of the most demanding stages of his life:  the diapers, the middle-of-the-night feedings, the crying for no known reason, etc.

But, like I said, God is working in me and it is AMAZING.  I am coming to resent my foster son’s parents less and less, pretty much not at all right now, and coming to care for them more and more.  This change requires mercy.  It also requires that I recognize my own failings and limitations.  The more I see how imperfect I am (you wouldn’t think that would be hard, but it is), the less I see how imperfect they are.  It is a wonderful gift that God is giving me and our foster son, because no matter what home our foster son ends up in, a good relationship between his birth parents and his foster, possibly adoptive, parents helps everyone work toward what should be the common goal:  finding the best home possible for him.

I wish I could give a detailed, step-by-step plan for loving your foster child’s parents because I believe it would benefit all foster parents to be able to love their foster child’s parents, but I don’t think I’m completely there yet, so anything I have to offer will be somewhat incomplete.  I can tell about some specific things that God has revealed to me that have helped me.

First, not only does God love me, but he loves my foster son’s parents.  Just as much as He loves me.  He offers them forgiveness, just as he offers it to me.  He is pursuing them, just as he pursues me.  And they are just as worthy of His affections and attention as I am.  It is overwhelming to realize that if my foster son’s parents are worthy of God’s love, then they are worthy of MY love.

Next, and, yes, it is cliche, but “there, but for the grace of God, go I”.  The more I learn about the difficulties that my foster son’s mother faced during her early childhood, the more I can see how her life experiences shape how she makes decisions now.  Do not misunderstand me.  We are all responsible for our own actions, but understanding why my foster son’s mother may have chosen specific actions helps me feel more merciful toward her.  I cannot say with certainty that I would have made different choices faced with the same set of circumstances with which she has been faced.  This does not mean that they have been good choices nor does it mean that she should be free from any consequences, but it does mean that it could just as easily have been my decision, too.  In fact, I have made some pretty bad decisions in my life and it is only by the grace of God, truly, that I am not suffering some very dire consequences because of those bad decisions.

I am also learning to appreciate the positive aspects of my foster son’s parents’ character.  They chose life for him – they did not have to do so – and I will always be grateful for the privilege of caring for him for as long as I am allowed.  There are many other positive attributes of my foster son’s parents, but out of respect for their privacy, I won’t list them here, because some may be too identifiable.

I know that not all foster children have parents in whom positive traits can easily be identified, however, I strongly believe that children identify with their biological parents and so being able to identify positive traits in their parents, however difficult that may be, will help them identify positive traits in themselves.  I am very fortunate in that my foster son’s parents are kind and generous, among many other positives.

When we first began this journey into foster care, I did not think much about how I would feel about the parents of our foster children.  It has been a huge learning experience for me and I am better because of it.  Not only am I learning to love people that I might not have extended love to before, I am learning to love those who I already loved more abundantly because I realize now that I have an unending reservoir of love from which to draw upon.  It’s amazing.  Really.

Real Grief: Losing a Foster Child

It has been a very surprising realization for me how alone foster parents can feel, especially when faced with the loss of a foster child.  I’ve been thinking more and more about the experiences of a foster parent, specifically when a foster child may be removed from their home and have just been able to pinpoint some reasons why we as foster parents feel as though we are alone.

Sadly, one of my realizations was the fact that the vast majority of people who are not foster parents (which is the majority of people) do not recognize the grief that a foster parent experiences over the loss of a child as “real” grief.  As I began contemplating how my fellow church members would react should the loss of our foster son become a reality, I concluded that there will be significant differences between how they will treat my husband and me versus how they would treat a couple who loses a biological child.

For a family who loses a biological child, the church will likely surround them, recognizing their grief and encouraging their expression of grief.  To my knowledge, aside from miscarriages (which is not a small loss, but is a topic for another post), we have not had a family in our church experience the death of a biological child, so it is hard to say with certainty how our church would react, but I am certain that they would acknowledge the grief that the family is experiencing and that they would offer support for that family in tangible ways:  dinners, prayer, shared tears, phone calls, etc.

As I anticipate how my church will react should we lose our foster son, however, I do not anticipate many of the same types of support.  Sadly, this is often the case for those women who have experienced miscarriages as well.  So, I am left to ask why do people not view the loss of a foster child the same as the loss of a biological child? and what can I do to help others who have lost a foster child and those who want to comfort them, and us, in that loss?

There are some very real differences between the loss of a foster child and the loss of a biological child:  a foster child is not a legal member of the foster family with whom they live, when a foster child is removed from a foster home, the child has not died, but is living somewhere else, and, with foster care comes the foreknowledge that the child may be removed from the foster home.

I’ve already addressed these differences in other posts, but it is worthwhile to address them again and perhaps expand upon the impact, or lack thereof, that these differences have in how a foster parent experiences the grief of losing a foster child.

First, the “legal” argument.  As a foster parent, I can assure you that I do not love my foster son any less because he is not “legally” mine.  I am mommy.  He has another mommy, but I am the mommy who changes his diapers, gets up in the middle of the night, who worries if he is eating enough or sleeping enough, if he is too hot or too cold, if he is in pain because he is teething or if he just needs to be held and comforted.  I am the mommy whose first thought upon waking is about the smile that I will see when my precious foster son sees me for the first time that morning.  I am the mommy who cannot wait to leave work so that I can see my foster son again. 

Should he be moved to another home, I will no longer be able to fulfill the role of mommy for him.  In some ways, this may be a more painful loss than the loss of his physical presence.  It will be a loss of part of my identity.  Not that I am completely identified by being his mommy, but because it is part of who I am.  I know very few (perhaps none) parents who would not identify themselves as a mother or father.  It may not be the very first way that they would describe themselves, but it is certainly an important part of who they are.  It is the same for the foster parent.  Parenting is important.  The loss of a foster child means the loss of the role of parent of that child.  This is not just loss of someone else; it is a loss of part of me.  The fact that my foster son is not legally mine does not impact this type of loss at all.  It is a real loss and I will experience real grief should it come to pass.

Next, it is true that when a foster child is moved to another home, that child has not died.  So, how does this impact the grief of a foster parent?  I suppose that in some ways, it may provide some comfort to know that, while no longer living with us, our foster son is still living, but for many foster parents, instead of providing comfort, it is an agonizing propulsion into the world of unknowns and what ifs.  

For the foster parent, when a child is removed from the foster home, they are either being placed in a home that they have not been in before, perhaps an adoptive home, OR they are being returned to a home that they have lived in before, but were removed from because of neglect or abuse.  In the first situation, there may be concerns by the foster parent for how the child is adjusting to his new home and how he is relating to his “new” mommy and daddy.  There may be concerns about the care that he is receiving, but they will be based on the unfamiliarity with the home.  In the latter situation, where a foster child is returned to a home in which they had previously lived and were removed from due to abuse or neglect, there will be concerns by the foster parent for the child’s safety.  There may be questions as to whether or not the child is receiving care at all, or is that child being left alone to cry or to go hungry?  There may be questions as to whether the child will be physically harmed. 

For a child who has died, there can be no further physical harm.  For a child who continues to live, but is returned to a home in which he had previously experienced abuse or neglect, the possibility of harm is very real.  It is torture for the foster parent who loves and cared for that child to consider that the child may be in danger.  I honestly cannot say which would be worse:  to lose a child to death, but know that there will be no further suffering for that child, but also that there is no hope to be able to see that child again, or to lose connection with a child, never knowing if that child is suffering, but having the hope that someday, a connection with that child might be re-established.  Again, it is a huge difference, but that difference does not invalidate the grief.

Finally, and probably most frustrating to me, is the misperception that because we know that there is a possibility that our foster son may not be with us forever, that our grief is somehow less “real” or less intense.  Yes, there is the preparation element:  we can try to prepare ourselves for the loss of our foster son.  I’m not really sure how we are supposed to go about that and I’m not sure that the people who believe that just because we know that the possibility exists that we may lose our foster son that we should grieve less know how we’re supposed to “prepare” ourselves for the loss of our foster son.  How do you ever prepare for the loss of a child’s presence in your life?  How do you prepare for the day when you wake up thinking that you can’t wait to hold that child only to realize that he isn’t there anymore?  Expected loss is still real loss. 

There are definite “advantages” to knowing about the loss before it happens:  there may be a chance to say things that might have gone unsaid, there may be a chance to say good bye.  But there never is a chance to  shield ourselves from the inevitable pain of the loss.  It will still occur.  It will still hurt.

So far, this post again has been all about loss.  I don’t want to leave it that way.  I see it as my responsibility as the one who may experience the loss, to help others understand how the loss will affect me and how they can help me through it.  I cannot expect others to understand this type of loss unless they have experienced it, and there just are not that many foster parents out there.  So I must be the ambassador for foster parents.  I must lovingly explain to my friends and others who love me what I am experiencing.  I must try to help them understand that my loss is real and that I am hurting and that I need comfort.  While I still have my foster son, I must help my loved ones understand my feelings for him, so that should I lose him, they will have some frame of reference for the loss that I will experience.

It is yet another step in trusting God and being open and vulnerable with others who love Him so that He can use them to help me through my pain.  God does not promise me that I will not experience pain, BUT, he does promise me that he heals the broken hearted, so I will trust Him that, when the hurt comes, and it will come, maybe not from the loss of my foster son, but it will come, He will heal me.  He may not heal me as fast as I want to be healed, but He will heal me (Psalm 147:3).  And when I have reached the “other side” of my grief, or even before then, I pray that He will use me to help others through their grief, if only by acknowledging that the loss of a foster child produces real grief and walking alongside that grieving foster parent for a part of their journey.  It is a journey that few take, but it is a worthwhile journey, pain, grief, and all.