Emotions Like Waves

This weekend I prepared my “Nest Room” as I’m calling it. I found this sweet sign at Hobby Lobby and knew that it belonged in the room my foster children will be staying in. I hung the sign, repainted a dresser (using sweet white rose knobs I found off Amazon), arranged my furniture, made the bed, and organized the abundance of books, toys, and craft supplies that have been gifted to me by loved ones.

Today I went in to the DCBS office to review and sign off on the 10 page case summary that my R&C worker typed up and submitted after I left. Three things struck me as humorous when reviewing the case summary. 1) She referred to me as having a curvy, rounded figure who was naturally beautiful. Yes, she is my new best friend. 2) She stated that when working I dress professionally, and when home I dress “casually but simply.” She should get major props for so beautifully describing “slob” for my at-home attire. 3) She described my home as “warm and welcoming” and “decorated with an eccentric touch and many handcrafted paintings.” (In truth, her description of my home was so sweet and beautiful I struggled not to tear up.... her perspective is just as I would like to portray my home. Knowing I have been successful warmed my heart!)

Both this weekend while preparing my room and today while reviewing my case summary, I have been overcome with emotions. Emotions that ebb and flow as the waves of the ocean... coming and going constantly. If you follow me on Instagram, you will have seen my post already, but I want to restate something here...

The emotional battle is real. One minute I’m fine, the next completely overwhelmed.

I feel excitement about all the things I’ve been looking forward to... craft making, board games, kid movies, outings, birthday parties, and donut stops before church!

I feel anticipation. It’s as if I’ve been waiting for this for years... I’ve always thought about fostering, and since first calling and inquiring about classes in February the process has felt so long. Five months seems so long at this point!

I feel grief over the life experience that will require a sweet flower to have to come and stay with me for a while. While this is a dream I’m getting to live out it is a time of separation or abandonement, trauma and fear, discouragement and distrust for the small one entering my home. At times I feel guilty for my joy over this journey. I’m constantly reminding myself that I have been put in this position to bring warmth, security, comfort, safety, and joy to others that need it. And it’s okay for me to find delight in that. I grieve the precipitating events/situations and am elated to participate in the healing that follows.

I feel nervous, that I’m not ready or prepared enough to take on this responsibility. I’ve mentioned it before, this is a radical shift for me. I’m fully aware of the blissfully independent, isolative, and (knowingly) lazy life style I’ve been living for the past 6 years. It’s possible that I’m using the term “nervous” when really I mean “fear” of the adjustment period.

I feel confidence and gratitude, considering the ridiculous amount of love and support that I’ve found through this process in my family, friends, and most of all in my coworkers. It was a coworker who first challenged me to consider why I wasn’t fostering at this stage in my life when I had worked so hard to  convince myself I wasn’t ready. It was my CEO and Supervisor who encouraged me to sign up for classes. It was a best friend/co-worker and a very close friend/neighbor who threw me a baby shower several weeks ago. It was an entire group of coworkers that presented me with a $500 gift card to Walmart at said shower. It has been these same coworkers who have showered me with craft supplies, children’s books, hair bows, and toys. I have not had one negative word spoken over me since I voiced my intent to be a foster parent this year. That is incredible to say and most certainly adds to my confidence and sense of security.

Finally, I feel comforted. I find rest and peace in the knowledge that Sweet King Jesus is watching over this whole process and wants to have His way in it. I am not alone. I have a supernatural support. Need some parental advice? I’ll speak to the father of millions. He knows a thing or two about raising kids. Need some encouragement? I’ll speak to the author of my dreams, who wrote these desires on my heart by hand. Need someone to vent to? I’ll call my mom. Just kidding! (Not really, but keep reading anyway.) I’ll speak to the one who knows not only my thoughts, my heart, and my situation... but will be the One most intimately aquainted with the sweet soul I’ll be housing. There is no better resource than this.

There are many emotions being felt here at Shady Corner. And many more to come.

If you are reading this, dear friend, please continue to pray for me. Pray for my ocean of emotions to be calmed. Pray for my mind and heart to be prepared for this first placement. Pray for the child and this difficult transition. Pray for the parents/care-givers, the workers, the judges, the lawyers, and everyone involved. I plan on eventually listing some specifics that can be prayed over, if you are so inclined. But for now I just ask that you pray. That is more than enough.

“Prayer should be our first response, not our last resort.” —Rachel Wojo

Change is Coming...

Disclaimer: I am not a gifted writer. I am more disorganized in thought and speech than ever before, and make no attempt to hide it. That being said, I still want to share my thoughts and experiences and am making a commitment to writing a blog update once per month. So here we go!

I’m 29 and single. I often joke that the only thing I do with my spare time is sit on the couch, eat Doritos, and watch too many episodes of Frasier and the Golden Girls. While I joke about this, it’s also true. I work hard during the day, and veg out even harder when I come home. To be honest, I have some habits that need to change. I stopped going to church a couple years ago. Work was chaotic, busy, draining, and I simply didn’t have the energy to walk through the doorway of my home on the weekends into a public place. I didn’t want to make plans, sit awkwardly through forced chit chat, or hear another person tell me that I needed to quit my job and find a new one. Things have drastically changed since that time in my life, things are a lot better at work and I’m not constantly exhausted. But I haven’t gotten back in church. I know I need to, I know where I will be going, and I know that I need to make it happen. How I spend my time off of work is another habit that drastically needs to change. I need to be more productive and more creative. I should use my time to better myself or others, but I don’t. I rest, and I have claimed that is enough. 

Well, things are about to forcefully change and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Next week I should be approved as a licensed foster parent for the Department of Community Based Services in the state of Kentucky. I will be opening my home to girls between the ages of 5-10, offering a warm and safe place whenever it is needed. I’ve known for a long time that this is something I wanted to do, but I’ve always had too many excuses for why I shouldn’t. 

My job is too consuming. 

I’m single. 

I rent. 

I have student loans I’ll be paying on for eternity. 

The list goes on and on... 

Earlier this year while sitting at lunch with a friend she asked me why I wasn’t already fostering. I listed those well versed excuses and was caught off guard with her challenge of “Well, aren’t these all things you would be self-sacrificing for if you were to start your own family anyways?” It was like a slap in the face. I have always planned on getting married and having kids. That hasn’t happened and may not, but if it were... then yes! I would still start a family despite my job, despite renting, despite my student loan debt, etc. So why not now? That one question opened my eyes to the foolishness of my excuses, and the reality of this: If not now then when? 

The next week I called a social worker and signed up for the next round of training classes. Six weeks of classes, five hours of online trainings, mounds of paperwork, three home studies, and a lot of anticipation later... I’m done! I can be ready to have a kid within a matter of 1-2 weeks. Days, really. 

This new chapter is going to change a lot for me. My entire daily life will be shaken. When I wake up, cooking and meal prepping, efficiency at work (to get off at a decent time), coming home and putting more effort into keeping my home tidy (because we all know kids make some fantastic messes), free time, self-care, overall busyness... all of this is going to change. And I can’t wait! I need to be challenged. I need to focus on something outside of work and myself. What better way to do so than to open my home to a kid that needs a warm and safe environment for the time being.

Will it be hard? Obviously. I can’t even tell you how many times I have heard “I could never do that... I would get way too attached.” Or, “Savannah! Are you sure that’s a good idea for you? I don’t think you can handle the goodbyes....” And in some ways, they are right. I WILL get too attached. I probably WONT handle the goodbyes very well. It’s going to be incredibly challenging, difficult, and heart-wrenching. But I’m ready. I’m ready to use my time and my home to better the life of someone else. I’m excited about the opportunity to work with kids outside of the professional role in my workplace. I want to be there for the good and the bad for a kid that needs someone. I want to be the one that healthy and attached relationships are formed with. I want to hold hands, give hugs, and wipe away tears on difficult days. I want to play games, go on fun outings, do craft projects, and watch Moana 100 times a day. I want to argue about how we’ve already had chicken nuggets too many times this week to cook them again. I want to work on Life Books, go to treatment team meetings, work on loving and supporting biological parents in getting their kids back home safely, and see kids reunified with family members. I want this experience, both the good and the bad. 

If you know me at all, you know change is difficult for me. (Difficult, not impossible.) Once, I changed offices at work (same hallway, seven doors down) and had to leave my desk in the old office. I swear, I grieved for three weeks over that old desk. It’s ridiculous, I know. What can I say? I am the way I am. Ha! Don’t worry, I am not disillusioned to how hard this will be for me. The adjustment to a new life in my house, the responsibilities that accompany it, the certain heart-ache that will come with separations and goodbyes are all things I am doing my best to mentally prepare for. But I am ready, I am willing, and I am grateful for this opportunity. It’s happening. And that’s all there is to it.

9 years ago when this blog was first created, I never thought I would be sitting here praying for and writing about the sweet little flowers that are soon to enter my home. Yet here we are.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” - Dr. Seuss