Sad reflections

Before I had Ella I was working with families in child protection. I worked there for two years. I am so thankful that God has brought me through those years to this place. It was good work, and I did the job well. I enjoyed the intricacies and challenges that each case brought with it. And I was grateful to be in the lives of people who just needed to be loved. I learned from that job that, people all want the same thing. We want to be worthy, valued, cared for. We want to matter. I saw myself in so many of the women that I worked with knowing that had I been raised by different people, continued in now ended relationships, or indulged in certain vices that I could be the one being told that my child could not come home with me. God's presence in the total of my life was made so clear to me during those two years. I am not so far from those broken shattered lives that I worked with- the ONLY difference that I can really see is God. I did not want the job, and avoided it. I had agreed to do an internship there, for my Master's program. The agreement was that the State paid for tuition and books, and I was to do my internship at the Department and then work there for two years. The reason I took it was that there was only a 90 day period after graduations in which the Department had to place me in a job. If no job was offered, I could find a different job and the debt would be forgiven. No problem, I thought, I will get through the 90 days and do what I want. It was clear that God wanted me at the Department. After wrestling with and finally accepting that fact, I was content to work my two years, grateful for the gift of my master's being paid for, and knowing that this would be the last task before motherhood. It has been almost a year since I left the professional world of social work. After I quit my job, I immediately realized how much stress I had been carrying, that I had not even noticed. That is heavy work, draining in all areas of life. I was generally not as light hearted- I was surrounded by sad things everyday and had to be a little numb, to make it through. Being able to pass the responsibility on to someone else was such a weight lifted. At the time I left I had been managing 17 families, 35 children total. I see foster parents in Walmart or Shopko from time to time, familiar client faces around town, former co-workers and the State cars with their distinct license plates driving to court or home visits. With each reminder I breathe a prayer of thanks that I am not doing that now, and that I am caring for my own baby. I also ask for God to use those memories to teach me, make me wise and useful for Him now and in the future. Today, two specific stories hang in my mind: I take certain routes on the walks I go on. There is a house on a corner that was for rent several months back. I watched to see when it would be rented and soon, the sign was down and the garbage can that had been tossed aside in the bushes was gone. Good, I thought, someone got moved in. A few weeks later as I was walking past the house a man was headed back across the yard after collecting his mail. As he entered the house I caught his eye, he back into the house and shut the door. He was unkempt, barefoot, and wearing a dirty t-shirt and sweatpants. I thought that he would not be a safe person. As I continued walking, I scolded myself for passing judgment. Today as I walked past the house, there was someone on the sidewalk talking on the phone, he was hidden by the overgrown trees, but upon hearing his voice I knew it was Steven. He nodded at me, said hello and asked how old my baby was. There was no recognition in his greeting and inside I was relieved. I was friendly and continued walking, with a pit in my stomach. You see, Steven is the boyfriend of one of the mother's I worked with. When I received the case, Sheri's 5 year old child had been in foster care for over a year. He had been severally abused by Steven's father, Mike. Yes, she knew Mike was a registered offender, but he had been so good to her after he had been released from jail. She also could not understand why she could not be friends with Mike, if she intended to have her son come home. Sheri eventually allowed her son, who was very delayed and suffering the affects of severe abuse, to be adopted. She was a gentle, kind woman with no self-worth or ability to make decisions for herself. She was very developmentally delayed and was obviously ill-equipped to be a mother and continued to be a victim of a sick man. I know the man I saw that day was Mike. My judgment was true, he is very unsafe and there he is living in that house. He should not be there, he should be locked away. One victim is in a good place, being loved, getting what he needs-but how many more?? And my judgment? I need to trust those first instincts. That does not mean my first assessment is law, but, first impressions are made for a reason. And, tomorrow. Tomorrow marks the 2 year anniversary of Angel's drowning. She was 2. She drown in the pool at the foster home where she had been living for over a year with her brother. The family had just returned from a trip and the kids wanted to swim. I was just sitting down to a Sunday dinner of roast beef with friends when the phone rang and the hospital chaplain told me that something terrible had happened, Angel had drowned. What a tragedy. Angel had been abused by her father, who had become her full time care taker. She was beginning to blossom in the loving care of her foster family. She was hugging, instead of hitting, giving kisses and saying I love you, instead of throwing tantrums and hitting her head on the floor. Her walls were beginning to fall and she was beginning to trust that these adults would not hurt her. I did not know where this case would go. Her father was in jail, her mother had gotten clean, taken parenting classes and was really trying to improve her life. She had been abused by her mother and father, abused by boyfriends and been hooked on meth. She had little bond with Angel, and despite her successes, was not prepared to care for two difficult children. She had developed a relationship with the foster family, and we were discussing the possibility of an open adoption or guardianship, where the children would stay with the foster family, and she would continue to be involved in their lives. The case took a dramatic turn with Angels' drowning. It was an intricate job, coordinating birth parents, grandparents, pregnant foster mom, foster dad and their families, funeral arrangements, payment, investigations, her 4 year old brother who found her. I held my breath and prayed for God's wisdom and heart with each conversation and meeting. God carried me then. Angel's brother is now living with his paternal grandmother. He had a different father than Angel. He does not know his father, as he has been in jail for manslaughter for the past 3 years. They talk on the phone now, and he goes to visit from time to time. His mother continues to visits too, and has had another child. I worry for that child and for Angel's brother. His grandmother loves him, and will do her best. He has experienced more than a 4 year old should, and the affects of that will ripple through his life. God still has a plan for that life, even with the broken parts. One day I will see Angel's bouncy pig tails again. For now,I know that she is playing tag with Jesus. I will protect my daughter. I will be selfless for my daughter. I will give my daughter to God, because I know I can only go so far. She was first and will always be, in His grasp; Just as I remain.