Give Thanks With A Grateful Heart

This week has been what Aussie's call a "doozy"!  I still have images of my beautiful twelve year old having a full on seizure flash through my mind, but am so grateful that she has recovered, and is her usual self.  Jada has a laugh that tinkles, and just makes you smile, while her twin has a full throat belly laugh.  It has always amused us that though they are very alike in some ways, their laugh is distinctly different.  It is wonderful to hear that tinkle floating around the house.

We went to the cardiologist yesterday, and my heart soared to hear her heart is NORMAL!!  Jada was diagnosed at about two with a three prong heart defect, and we attended the heart center for four years, until, about six years ago, on a checkup, she had a very unusual exam, which led to another sonogram. As we went into that room, and I watched her being hooked up to the machine, I asked questions about how, and why, and the possible surgery that was being mentioned.  Maybe a balloon in one of her arteries to help blood flow.  I could see her lying there, and imagined that tiny body with a scar running down her chest, and almost automatically told God to heal her, because, it was Christmas and it was time to get this done.   Imagine my surprise, when He DID!!   I remember watching the technician running the doppler over her small body, and seeing her puzzled expression.  We already had a sonogram that showed the defect, but just as I assumed she was seeing something worse, she excused herself, and went to get the doctor.  Now I was sure it was bad news.

The doctor came in, and began again, peering into the screen.  He suddenly stopped, looked at me, and announced that while he couldn't explain it, Jada's heart was perfectly normal.  He discharged us on the spot, shook my hand, and told me he didn't expect to see Jada again.  So, you can imagine how I felt when we were told a few days ago, that there might still be a problem, but, I have learned, by all means check it out, but never doubt that when God heals divinely, unexpectedly, believe it, and stand on it.  It sticks forever.

Now we just have the neurologist to see, and I am praying for the good report.  I am not afraid of the hurdles God puts in our life, I will jump them one at a time, because I am not alone, He is with me.

Unexpected curve balls

So, the day started with being woken up by our home phone, just a little early, which immediately had me on the alert.  We didn't get to it in time, but realized it was my Dad, calling from Australia.  He never calls at this time, so my full alarms went up as I dialed him back.  He was bright and cheery for a 93 year old at 10.00p.m at night, and I thought, well he may have just got the time wrong or something.  But, no.  He went on to explain that the fall my Mum took about this time last week, which I knew about, had done some damage.  My mum has had a couple of "mini" strokes which have led to black outs and falls, one where she broke her ankle.  She had fallen last week again, and my dad had trouble getting her up, and from then on she had suffered pain throughout her leg and hip.

Good news, no broken hip, or ankle, although bone deterioration not good in the hip, but knee torn up again, bad news as it was operated on for the second or maybe third time just earlier this year.  I was put in the "keep you informed" line and hung up with a number to reach my mum, now in the hospital, back in Australia.  So, I go about the day, which is always hectic at least, and suddenly notice a message that asks me to teach vocals for the afternoon as well as a private vocal lesson.  I lock in, and am preparing to fill in some vocal classes as well as my private lesson, just one?, or so I thought.

In the midst of all this carry on, Rog, hubby extraordinaire, is hanging all our guitars on the wall, and finds a beautiful Tacoma guitar that I bought him eons ago, has the neck broken from too tight strings.  So, we pack it up and take it over to the guitar shop, and as he is working that out, I am shopping in the thrift store for one of my upcoming shows I am directing.  We come home, both feeling like we have achieved what we set out to do, and I go to attend to my email, and then, oh and then.  My hubby calls out as I hear a thud on the floor in the library, just off the kitchen, and find one of my twelve year old twins, Jada, on the floor in a grand mal seizure.  No time for anything, but damage control, so Rog, absolute infinite partner, husband, lover, friend, calls 911, while I keep her in the best position while watching her stiff and convulsing from head to foot, rejecting panic, and only accepting wisdom, and calm to keep control of this sudden turn of events.

911 is amazing and fast, so we are at the ER within about ten minutes of the beginning of the seizure.  I am thinking this is not so great a day, but at the end of all of it?  Well yes, Jada, is probably going to need  medication for epilepsy, a condition her biological mother has, but the reason for all of this?  Well Jada is a fetal alcohol baby, with mild CP, and was cleared, cured miraculously from a three prong heart defect several years ago, but there was always this little nagging thought in the back of my mind, which I put down to "oh ye of little faith", but it turns out, that God did take away the big bad major stuff, but we may be left with a sticking heart valve.  If not for the seizure, we would not know.  Praise God.

Isaiah, home for the holiday

Well, I knew that Isaiah had earned a week-end home, but I didn't realize that he had been such a great student, and team mate, that he had earned a whole week for Thanksgiving.  I have been in contact with his counselor a number of times, a really nice young woman who is also a foster/adoptive parent, but I was still was somewhat in the dark about how the reward system worked at Job Corps.

I have received a few questions, as well as a few, "what is he doing there?", to "why can't I get in touch with him?", etc., so will try to answer or fill in the blanks.  Isaiah, or Friday as he is proudly called at school, did not receive any formal education before we rescued him from Liberia some three and a half years ago, and has really struggled to try to catch up in an impossible situation.  As well, he has been thrust into a family that is close knit, has rules, and knows where everyone is at all times, or at least to the very best of our abilities.  There are some times that one will try to sneak under the radar, but not for long.  I am afraid that I am an old fashioned mother who believes in extreme communication, for the betterment of the child whether they like it or not.  I am that bad penny that turns up when you least expect it.  That took Isaiah a little time to get used to, but, after Job Corps, he has a much better idea.

He is in school, either studying for his GED, or learning his current trade, Cement Masonry, from 8 a.m. in the morning till 12 noon, lunch, then trade in the afternoon until four or five.  Dinner is at six, so he hits the weights room in between, then has his laundry to do, as well as other dorm duties, as he is assistant dorm leader.  There is then social activities up until curfew, or lights out, which is about 9.30p.m. only to be up early in the morning, 6.a.m to start again.

He grinned openly and told me he "cried" the first day, because it was so overwhelming, but is so adamant now that he "loves" school, and I believe him.  We were all wondering where he would be in the relationship issue, because he has found this part of the family extremely hard, only because he could not trust or lose control of a situation.  Well, it seems, that being at school has somewhat cured those ideas.  He started out in an open dorm, and could not move out until he proved himself to be a team player, respectful of others, non aggressive of authority, and willing to help.  He did all of that and more.  He laughed as he regaled the compulsory kitchen duty.  When he was at home, he was so "Slow" in the kitchen, everyone would say "hurry up Isaiah" and I know he thought we were all picking on him, but, he was just about doubled over laughing recalling how his other team members on KP duty, were constantly telling him to "hurry up".  He learned to go fast.

He is well on the way to getting his GED, even though it is very hard for him.  His teachers know that his education only started three years ago, and are patient, but also pushing him, because he is "SMART".  His trade class has already helped to lay the foundations of the new laundry, and is on the team to learn how to cement a swimming pool for the facility over the next few months.  He is very proud of his achievements.  It is a great mixture of school, and trade, or learning one.  He can get up to two trades here because of his age, and they are already talking to him about advanced education, or college.  He can choose to go to one they offer, or, amazingly he has another offer from the principal of our kids school, to attend a very well known college, all expenses paid, as long as he gets his GED.  His eyes are set upon his goal, and I very much doubt that they will be shifted by anyone.  He can see the end of the rainbow for the very first time.

His next scary step is he is moving out of his first dorm where he needed to show that he could be a team member, not swayed by anger, or control, and is moving to what he fondly calls the "suburbs".  We sent him back with his own DVD player, as many kids have DVD's but no player, and I expect he will move up to a nice apartment on campus, where he only shares with a couple of other kids, own TV, play station, video games, etc.  This is a great program that instills in kids the need to respect, and be respected.

I am so proud of him.  He is on the second top level in school, silver, which entitles him to free outings (movies, festivals etc), and we have encouraged him to go for gold, a level only a handful of students hold.  Silver is only about a fifth of the campus, but gold?  It is a challenge.  He has to write an essay, frightening for a kid who doesn't have a lot of reading or writing skills, but we have encouraged him to write a little each day, get used to it, go for the GOLD!

Can't wait till he comes for Christmas in just three weeks!  Oh, and by the way, the team skills paid off. He started to rebuild relationships with the boys that he thought were gone, with just a small smattering of humility and understanding.  Sadly, he has learned of others who have had terrible circumstances affect their short lives as well, and his eyes have been opened about how if you let others abuse, control and lead you in bad directions, then only hurt and sorrow follow.  He is moving past being a victim, to being a leader, an achiever, and feeling pride and self esteem for the very first time.  Go Isaiah! Go!

Isaiah's Strength

So, there is always so much more to the picture than on the page, and I always follow my "gut" on situations that are not clear.  One thing that I will give Isaiah, he is loyal, to both his biological family as well as the family who rescued him.   I cannot believe or comprehend the changes in him over the last seemingly few weeks, but in reality, eight or nine, to where he has emerged to a place where he is not reliant on opinion, or, being coerced into a situation that he doesn't feel comfortable, or believe in.  He is in counseling in his school, because of the nature of the students that come into this program, and has learned to discern, and to recognize that "anger" is an emotion that is not responsible for it's fallout, or it's target, and that is to make someone feel either small, inadequate, or needing to make someone else feel good, no matter the consequence.

He has much pressure from sources that should know better right now, to bend, forgive, forget, all the atrocities he went through in Africa, and what for, their own needs, not his.  Memory is such a forgetful thing, if you let it.  His peers who surrounded him in the abuse he went through, suddenly have selective memory, and it is very easy for them to forget.  They were here in America, oh yes, in somewhat not so favorable circumstances, but, not in the heart of the interior of rural Liberia, suffering malaria, getting African chiggers dug out of their feet, not once but three times with sharpened bamboo, without painkillers, getting one meal if they were lucky a day, and having to learn to climb a coconut tree if you were really hungry.  Count in that you don't know the language, and can't for the the very "life" of you hunt a fish down with your hands.  Then, the worst imaginable thing, watching your young five year old cousin die from the disease your are suffering from, whilst she is lying on the pallet next to yours.  Seeing the elders of the tribe come to try to "spook" the evil spirits away, and then wailing as they picked up a body, heaving, convulsing, to the river, in the hopes that the spirits would be washed away and a small, five year old little African girl, would be spared.  She wasn't, but neither did her thirteen year old cousin from the Great America.  He stayed awake for ten days fearful that the evil spirits would come for him.

So where were these so called people who now say "oh forgive and forget"?  Just where they are now, in denial and oblivious to just what the facts of the actions that these people took in the name of whatever.  But, they can stay in denial.  I thank God Isaiah, Friday, does not.  He will always love his biological family, but will not be swayed by them, they did not live what he did.  He is becoming to understand that while his "other" families in the past demand, his current family does not.  You know why?  I trust this young man is an intellectual person who will define his own identity, and understand who has helped him to achieve that.  If that is not I, that does not matter, only the end result, him, whole, saved, moving forward in life, is my goal, and my wish for his future.

Isaiah Rocks!!

So today after getting back from the beach yesterday, I piled my two eldest boys in the PT convertible, and we headed for Franklin North Carolina.  I was not sure what to expect, how Isaiah had adjusted, as our phone calls had been few in the last eight or nine weeks.  The boys wanted to come, even though they have been the recipients of most of Isaiah's angst, and I understood why.  All three of us were waiting with bated breath to hope that this had been a wake-up call, a realization that we cannot live in our own little world not thinking of all who surround us.

I arrived to this somewhat rural, but quaint, rustic campus, with a lot of buildings, and parked before the  boom gates assuming that the building in the front was the "sign in" place I had been told off.  Sure enough, I had guessed right.  I signed in and was escorted to the counsellor's office.  I had spoken with her several times, and felt right at home with someone who was on "Friday's" as he is called here, side. I had always told Isaiah that one day his real name, given by his parents, would mean something, and sure enough, because it is his legal name, he has come to see that "Friday" is special.  No-one bears that name here but him.  She is a foster parent, amazingly enough, and we had a lot in common.  She told me how Isaiah is doing so well here, and I loved the photos of her soon to be son, who is two.

We waited while she found where Isaiah, or Friday as he is known here, was.   Soon he appeared at the door, and was quite taken back to see Dustin and Devin sitting there with me waiting for him.  I could tell he wasn't sure why they had come, but I immediately noticed the change in him.  No more furtive looking around, or licking his lips wondering what was going on, he gave a solid connect with his eyes, a genuine hug, and a confidence I had not seen before.  My heart leapt, because I knew change had happened, even in the midst of being thrown into a scary place, wondering if this was right for him.  Memories from the orphanage became so rampant, that it was hard for him to discern that, this time, his "PARENTS" were doing the right thing by him.

He openly told me that he had cried the first day, not able to discern because of the scariness of it all, but quickly told me that older kids there had taken him under their wing and put him on the right path.  This is not a dissimilar story to my other kids who have gone off to college, wondering what awaits them when they get there.  But, he said, "I cried quietly, not like when I was sent back to Liberia.  I wailed very loudly then, because I was terrified".

I cannot express how PROUD I am of him.  There are four levels at school.  Green, just entered, red, Ok in the middle, Silver a cut above the other kids, and Gold really excellent.  He is on the silver level which constitutes maybe 5-10% of the campus.  My heart is bursting with pride.  He gets it finally, he knows that this road is hard, but he is willing to fight for his future.  He knows he is smart, he has pride in himself for the very first time, and was so thankful to come "home".  Yes, he said to me quite openly, "Mom, I am so glad you taught me rules, and washing, and being a part of the family, because I would not have got it here".   He has learned work ethic, discipline, attitude and respect and is currently part of the team who is going to build the new swimming pool at the facility.

There are no other words other than "God Is Good, and He Is Faithful!"  I am so thrilled and happy to have 'Friday' home for Thanksgiving.  By the way, he also asked me could he bring a friend home that has no bedroom, or a place to sleep at his home.  That brought me to tears, as he is thinking of someone else for the first time in his very short life.  I am speechless, and more thankful this Thanksgiving than I have been in a really long time.

Isaiah, the long road home.

So had a great couple of days away at the beach.  The first and last day were spent traveling, but it is something both of us enjoy, a chance to chat, plan, decide where we are going and all the other things that we have fleeting moments to discuss.  When you have such a large family, there are so many aspects that are relevant, or not so relevant, need attention, but can escape under the radar, and where we are headed as a family, and in business, goals, and extra curricular things that come across the never ending plate for decision, or contemplation.

There are many things on our "plate" so to speak, at the moment, one of which is an "article" which we committed to some time ago, but has taken a long time to come to fruition.  I do believe in timing, and I do believe in "God's" ultimate timing.  It has almost happened several times, and I sometimes have been frustrated by this, but, God, in His ultimate wisdom,  knows exactly when this should all come about.  There have been many times, I dread to say, that I have felt that I knew the perfect timing, only to be thwarted and know that my timing, is not necessarily the best, but His is.

In saying that, because I have very definite ideas on children and abuse, suffering, non education of children, the "lost" children, who by the way are just around your corner needing a family, I get impatient.  I wish there were more families who could get out of their own space, or needs, and see the need for these children who are so "lost" in our society, and who have such issues about trust and love.

I have thought more about this in the journey home today, whilst driving, with my honey, either playing his favorite songs, or snoozing, than collectively in the last few months, where things have been so chaotic, or turned upside down, in my house, because of the need for extra family and guests.   Tomorrow, I go to pick up Isaiah from school, a place he is beginning to feel not only grateful for, but thankful for, as he IS going to get an education here, and regain his self esteem as well as self pride.  Not pride that is harmful, but pride that propels us to places we could not imagine before inspiration kicked in.

My two older boys, twins, are coming with me, even though they are people he has abused, physically and mentally, the most.  They "get" his journey with all of this, even though they forgive, but cannot forget.  For that, I am eternally grateful for, because they are all similar age.  Isaiah is possibly thirteen years in, thirteen years out, or at the very least 3-4 years in and the same out.  That is physchological talk for when kids get better.  Because he was thirteen when he came to us, it could be maybe twenty-six before he comes out of that abusive cycle.  It may be just the nearly four years spent with his other family, therefore meaning four years in ours, which is just a short way off.  How we know?  Trust in God, look for signs, and fervently pray that he does not have take the long road home.

Holiday....mmmm....

Holidays are rare for us, alone or with all of the family, but, the last couple of months have been a little more extraordinary than usual.  We have had family (five, with babies) living with us because of extenuating circumstances, an anniversary, which meant visitors from Australia, and just the normal organized chaos that exists in a family the size of ours.

My mum, still living in Australia, is not well, and continues to have "spells" and falls, all of which are worrisome at the very least because I am here, and it is a very long way home.  So, with all of this on my plate, as well as other "stuff between my toes" my honey and I are trying, yes, trying, to have a few days on our own.  It really is a romantic notion, because, there are phone calls, texts, more phone calls, emails, more phone calls, more texts just to keep everyone up to date, out of bed, doing jobs, and knowing where and when to drop this child or the other one.

I give up!!!  But, I will, under every difficult circumstance, take the opportunity when given to get away, even if only physically, for a few days with my amazing husband.

Ah!  Next week, Franklin, pick up Isaiah, and Thanksgiving, with a hundred and ten or, Ok, I am exaggerating here, but sometimes it feels like that.  I hope I get to eat what I cook.  More so, I hope I get to eat what the others bring!!

Isaiah, home for the holidays!

I am so proud of Isaiah, he is on the silver level at school and is eligible not just for a week end, but the whole week for Thanksgiving.  I know this sort of sounds odd with regards to a school, his school is very special.  It is a tech college as well as a school that gets kids their GED, their drivers license, as well as up to two trades.  He can be here for three years, because of his age, and earn advanced education if he plays by the rules.  It is fully paid for by the Government for kids who come from very low income families, foster children, and those who have lost families and have been taken in by someone else.

Some of you who follow this blog know that Isaiah was a child from a broken adoption, that was sent back to Liberia illegally.  When we rescued him he was thirteen and a half years old, with grade one.eight education, not from lacking intellect, but lacking education from his previous family.  His road in the last three and a half years has been tough, from many different angles.  Quite frankly, he doesn't trust much, and who can blame him?  All those older than him, including biological and adoptive adults, let him down.  Oh yes, he made mistakes, but as a CHILD.  Adults are supposed to correct, instruct and bring a child up in the way that they should go.  That is biblical even if we don't like it.

His struggle with trust, fitting into a family that has very strong boundaries, trying his hardest to learn to be educated, even though he has never learned a work ethic, understanding it is going to be worth it, is a credit to him.  A lot of his peers, choose the low road, not the high one.  The low road leads to young parenthood, lack of education, lawlessness, and just plain trouble all the way round.  And if it doesn't lead to trouble, it leads to being very poor financially because of lack of education.

He has no current biological family that is standing with him, that is another story.  The kids that came from this situation are so messed up, that without parents, they are lost.  They seek approval, attention, and cannot see the future that spans before them that requires some form of education.  Oh, it is easy to get caught up in the moment and think that living for the present is what matters, but those of us who are older and wiser, parents of children of school age, know better.   Children grow beyond babies, and become children who ask questions and want to be like their peers.

It is coming up to Christmas, and as a parent with nine children at home, four grown children,  nine grandchildren to buy presents for, I am aware that I am deeply appreciative of my parents for educating me, and  making me aware that I need an education to have the finances to supply my family, at all times.  My only regret is that I cannot be all to all people, and that is OK.  I am at peace with myself and my family who I love more than anything in this world, other that God of course.

What's Next

After spending the last year on my book "Finding Friday", and now it is all finished, I am looking to see what to write next.  Through my two books that I have written, I realize I want to tell a story, but, have it make an impact, change something, or wake someone up.  I also realize, that people are transient, sometimes wanting to tell their story, then changing their mind because of whatever is going on in their life.  That can be a good thing, moving on to better places, putting the past behind, healthily, or it can be not wanting to face the things that have hurt, trying to gain acceptance, or approval, from the very people who have hurt, enabled, or abused in the first place.

I have found in my journey through the fostering and adoption process, that many people who are victims return to their abusers even though they know it is wrong, destructive and leads down the same paths that have caused pain before.  It is like a moth drawn to a flame, knowing all the while it can be burned, incinerated to the point of death.  I am reminded in particular of one of my children's mother who just cannot keep out of trouble.  When she is away from the deadly scene of drugs and alcohol she is the sweetest person, but it is the little moth within her, that when things go wrong, all she knows is the comfort of the very things that bring her down, change her, make her dependent on abusers.

I visited her in jail just recently, and once again found the sweet person, who loves Jesus, wants to amend and atone, change forever, and yet finds it exceedingly difficult to climb the mountain and claim freedom from ghosts of her past.  I know of the pain that was caused in her childhood, that turned her to this terrible world that has claimed most of her life, but I don't understand how it consumed her to the extent of losing her children as well as her life.  I cannot imagine giving my children up for any reason, but I know, that there are many whose fears are so great that they will sacrifice anything to hide, be approved of, gain recognition, be a hero, or a fraud, so long as they do not have to face their pain.

My husband always says "The best disinfectant is the light of day".  He is right.  When we try to cover up our insecurities or our fears, or my case, many years of feeling like I was the "odd" one, and begin to change our behaviors to either suck up to, or crawl if you prefer, be wrongly influenced, or bullied, into decisions we shouldn't make, try to mend damaging relationships, we need to stop, remember, and carefully consider whether this valley is worth revisiting.  For it is a deep, dark valley of bones and graves.  The mountain is worth climbing, is worth the struggle, the physical effort to take one step, one day at a time, towards healing, and reclaiming our very own life that was given to us, and nobody else, to rob, or steal, of each day that was pre-planned for us before we were born.

I feel perhaps there is a story that I will tell of someone who wants this so badly, that they will be prepared to bare their very soul and inevitably help someone else who is going through the same struggle that they have managed to climb their way out of.  "Finding Friday" is that struggle, one Isaiah is still dealing with, but, he IS climbing the mountain, and is not lost in the valley of bones and death, but on his way to freedom and life.  I know he will not turn back, for he sees where he has come from, and has at least a little "glimpse" of where he is going and that is so much greater than from whence he has come.

Fact or Fiction?

I haven't blogged in quite a while, things have been "insane" for want of a better word in my house over the last few months, but, with good results.  Summer was long, with eleven children at home, and waiting for Job Cops to call.  The eleventh is my grandson, who is no trouble at all, just another one to watch and feed.

As school resumed, Job Corps did not call yet for Isaiah, and I had to make a decision.  Keep him home until?, or send him to school until.  After one week home, it was send him to school until.  The call was a long time coming, but was worth the wait.  Isaiah is at Job Corps, and, after really wondering what was his fate the first week, is really enjoying his new found freedom, as well as his new found opportunities for education for the next three years.

He has really tried his best with us, to fit in, try to be part of the family, but when trust is broken, and a child's spirit has been broken as well, it is a long road to normalcy.  The thing is, he just doesn't trust parents, or women for that matter, in his life, but, he knows I will level with him, be honest, and not expect anything in return.  He has learned in the last three years what a normal family looks like, has realized that he is not a "bad" child, and learned that if he had been educated at a younger age, all would be so much simpler for him.

He also knows now, that being sent back to Liberia, was not his choice, but one of co-ercing and brain washing, and I didn't even have to say a word, time is a great healer.  While he struggles with understanding a "real" family, he does understand how it works, and wants to be there, have this for himself, in the true sense.

I have completed my book,  "Finding Friday", 100,000 plus words.  It is biographical fiction, but tells a compelling story.  After being rejected, the same very large Christian publishing house has asked for my book proposal.  I pray and hope that it will be accepted.  I have realized after taking in, fostering, adopting so many children, one of the things in my future is to tell their stories, anonymously, so they can be free from the torment in their lives.

Children are innocent, pages to be written upon, so why is it we, as adults, fail them?  There are many extenuating circumstances, and I, myself, as a parent, wish I could have done some things differently, but, I have never abused, neglected, or abandoned my children, even when I was a very poor single mother.  We are entrusted my God to look after the children he sends, whether by birth, adoption, or marriage, and if we fail, abuse, neglect, we face judgement for that.