Judgement Day

Yesterday was judgement day - the day that a judge would make a final ruling about our foster child, and where they will spend the rest of their life.

We waited throughout the morning, but our case wasn't called. I prayed that we wouldn't be the last case of the day. Well, God answered my prayer, and He proved his ironic sense of humor yet again - we were the second to last case. Thanks.

It was really difficult to sit still in the courtroom. We heard some cases with happy endings - children being reunified with parents - and some cases with sad ones - one teenager was removed from their home because of the court's findings. It was also hard to sit still because of those hard wooden benches - think old-fashioned 100-year-old cracked, creaky church pew benches. My foot kept falling asleep, then I'd switch positions and the other foot would fall asleep. I couldn't get comfortable.

Finally, our case was called. The judged read reports and listened to arguments from 3 different lawyers, 2 public defense attorneys, a child advocate (called "GAL" in our state) and a social worker. The biological family sat on one side of a long, hard wooden bench and we (Mike and I) sat on the other. I was pretty certain what the verdict would be, but wasn't sure how it would come about. After about 15 minutes of testimony, the judge declared "I will adopt motion number 3." We didn't know what that meant. Us laypeople were confused. Judge continued with a few more details, giving us, the foster parents, a 2-week notice. That's when I understood it.

The final verdict: guardianship with relatives.
We've got less than 2 weeks until she's out of our house forever.

I am sad for us, because it will be a great loss for our family. However, I know without a doubt that this is what is meant to be for baby girl, to grow up and live with part of her biological family.

I couldn't speak face-to-face with the relatives. I was too emotional in that moment. We walked out of the courtroom and went our separate ways. However, after I got home, I sent a message saying I was happy for them, and that I know they'll raise her well.

I can only trust it to be true.

So now I am left with the task of telling my children, who think of her as their baby sister, that she'll be gone in a few days. How do you prepare for this? What do you do with this kind of grief? It's not quite anything we've had to go through before (unless you count when we said goodbye the first time, last May. But that wasn't so final.). We've known that we won't keep her forever, but the reality of that is much more harsh than the abstract idea. "Forever" is not a concept that my kids easily understand. Right now they can touch, hug, and play with her. Next week, they can't.

There are 3 things I'd like to ask of you, if you are reading this:
1. Pray for our family, and baby girl, during this time of transition. Give us the right words to say to our children, to help them understand. They will be hurting. They will be sad and grieving. Help us guide them through this difficult time.

2. Pray also for her relatives, who are overjoyed right now. Pray that they will raise her well and rise to the challenge of their new responsibilities.

3. Consider how you can be invested in someone else's life. Everyone goes through hard times at one point or another.  All it takes is one person to make a difference. We cannot all do everything, but everyone is called to do something. Whether that is being a respite provider for foster parents, helping hand-out groceries at a local food pantry, rescuing stray animals, doing yard work for a neighbor, lobbying for stronger laws regarding human trafficking, packing shoeboxes in November through Samaritan's Purse, or going on a mission trip to an orphanage in a third-world country... I don't know what it looks like for you, but you should find out.

(And if you're already doing whatever it is: Thank You. Keep it up.)

If you are able to pray for us during this time, please leave a message below to let me know that you are doing so. I am going to need all the encouragement I can get to make it through the coming days without collapsing into an unrecognizable mess.

Thanks.