Let’s say you’re building a home. You’ve done all your due diligence. You have the perfect lot. Soil test is done. You have beautiful house plans drawn up by a reputable architect. You’ve got your general contractor who has all the right people in place. Green light to go. You start with your foundation. Seems to be a perfect pour, situated just right on your property. You are so excited as you envision this home you’ve dreamt about for years. People are excited for you. Finally the time feels right and here you stand before this massive slab of concrete on this gorgeous piece of land.
But then you notice a crack. How could this be? This was carefully thought out, carefully poured. But it’s your foundation. It’s what this house will be built on. You can’t ignore this crack. You can’t proceed with building and hope that one day the crack will resolve on its own. That’s not how it works. If the crack is there now, the crack will only get larger with more materials, weight and pressure. Maybe you won’t see it, maybe others won’t see it as you mask it with dry wall and flooring but it’s there. And it’s a hazard. It’s a danger to your whole house.
Let’s just say we have a crack in our foundation right now. The foundation this adoption hinges on. The deeper we go on this foster/adoption journey the more I get why people further along than us (and MUCH wiser) say how full of pain it is. It’s just not going to be tied up with a neat little bow. Trauma sucks. It’s ugly. It seems so unfair. I hate it for these boys, I hate it for our family and I hate that I can’t rescue them with love and hugs and kisses. It’s just not that simple. I wish it was.
I feel crushed under the weight of raising five kids, two with tremendous emotional needs, a husband who works quite a lot, and very limited support. I have been crushed under the weight of this RAD diagnoses. I’m running ragged carting everyone to all manner of appointments to accommodate the needs of these little guys, all the while being hit and screamed at by them. I feel frustrated and slightly abused and I am so consumed by how to help them. So consumed that I fear it’s cracking my foundation; my marriage, my three older children, myself.
As it stands we have to put a hold on moving forward with this adoption so we can re-evaluate what’s in the best interest of everyone. The boys are still with us. We’re getting more services in place to help them. But I don’t know what the future holds. I have cried a lot. I don’t want to contribute to their trauma by them moving. But I also don’t think it would be fair to them to move forward with building their lives on a cracked foundation. They need strong. They need stable. Maybe things will get better. Maybe we will strengthen and unite and move forward. Or maybe changes in plans will occur. I just don’t know but I’m asking you to please pray.
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever- help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells. God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day. Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; he lifts his voice, the earth melts. The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Come and see what the LORD has done, the desolations he has brought on the earth. He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth. He breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the shields with fire. He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
Psalm 46:1-11 NIV