Skip to main content

Waiting and Not Waiting

Hello to whoever happens upon this blog post...stay and read a bit...learn something new, or at least something different.

We've officially welcomed a new member to our family, an adorable little Labradoodle who we've named Franklin (to go along with the Peanuts theme all our animals have: Schroeder, Belle, Lucy,  Linus).
We were on the fence about bringing him home so, thankfully, our friend let us bring him home for a week trial (during which he completely won over my husband, who was against him too begin with!). I, of course, loved him from the very start! 
At the end of our week we went away for a weekend and we had a very serious conversation about keeping Franklin. It seems that, after losing a child, even getting a dog is a very difficult thing to do. I definitely struggled with that fact that if we kept Franklin it really closed the door on what our life "should have been". We would never have gotten a puppy if we had a newborn but the harsh reality is that we don't have a newborn. Having to voice that out loud to John was really hard (like wiping your tears on a cloth napkin in a fancy restaurant kind of hard), and I realized just how difficult it is to move on.
Believe me, I'm the last person who thought that getting a puppy would make you face what you've lost, but it does. As a mother, it feels desperately wrong to leave my son behind. I know I am not truly leaving him behind, but our plans and dreams for him are a lot of what we have left of him. How many times must we remind ourselves that they are no longer achievable and that the Lords's plans for his life far exceed our own? At least once more, it seems. 
Our lives are never going to be the same, and we cannot just sit and wait for life to come back around to us. We must pull ourselves up by the hands of Jesus and keep moving forward. We should not be afraid of moving slowing, or growing slowing, only of standing still. So, we are moving forward, little by little, as Jesus leads us. 
So, we close the door on waiting for the life that "should have been" and now we are waiting for whatever The Lord has planned for us. That's one thing we have going for us, we certainly trust in His plan. We could never have healed/continue to heal through Kimber's loss if we didn't believe it was a part of God's plan.

So here we are...waiting and not waiting. It's a constant challenge trying to figure out when to wait and when to move on, but we've been blessed in our journey, and continually pray for wisdom and discernment. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Tainting of Tattoos

  You know, despite my tattoos...and piercings...and partially shaved head...I never considered that my look was very "alternative". At least not until someone said it was. I just thought that I was expressing myself in ways I might not have before. *I* like how I look...and I guess, if I'm being honest, what other people might think just doesn’t really factor into anything I do. But certainly not in the sense that I expect everyone to love everything about it all. My poor mom dislikes tattoos, my brother makes fun of my hair, and lots of people have said "oh...it's not quite my thing".  I never expected people to like these things about me the way I like them about me. I am not particularly bothered if it’s not your thing. It doesn't offend me. I'm not asking you to get a tattoo...or a piercing...or to shave your head. *I* did it because *I* wanted to...you just didn't factor into it. That being said...I've never been judged so...interesting...

Our Story Hurts

  On December 27, 2021 - almost 7 months after my husband died - I drove 4 hours to pick up a 12 year old girl who needed a home.  4 years later I rang in the anniversary of bringing her home by sleeping on the floor of her hospital room.  Hours before, after a great day together, she dissolved into a tantrum that she couldn’t control and I couldn’t bring her out of. She was hurting herself and threatening me and I had to call the police so she would stop.  We ended up in the ER for a behavioral health evaluation (not our first rodeo) and it was decided that the best thing for her was to spend a week at an in-patient facility. 4 years ago I drove her home…and today I had to let someone else drive her away.  This is the part that everyone warned me about 4 years ago. The hardness of this part…the possible hopelessness of this part. The brokenness of this part. My daughter’s situation isn’t abnormal in the adoption community, or even in the parenting of biological...

She Doesn’t Call Me Mom…

  My daughter doesn't call me Mom. There's a brutality in that that doesn't seem to fade. Because it's not just a name. If it was just a name I'd be okay with it...with not being Mom. But it's so much more, and in this season of life, my heart is seemingly constantly being broken in the wake of a daughter who does not want me to be her mother.  I have held in secret deep hurts and brokenness in the life of my teenager's adoption. Partly because it's not only my story, but hers as well. But this year has been so very heavy...and I have so often felt so very alone in that heaviness. Who understands the rejection of RAD? Of ODD? Of ADHD? Of Adoption? Of a child who is so very loving and kind to everyone except their mom? I've read post after post of mothers, of fathers, of siblings, of children who have faced or are facing the exact life we are living, and they a balm to my weary soul. Comfort in the knowledge that we are not alone...that I am not alon...