Probably, you will never know...

We fostered kids with several issues.  Out of that, we were able to adopt three of those children.  I feel a bit melancholy today, but a reaction to one thing led to a trail of personal thoughts about things that my children will probably never know.

We have a family calendar with photos.  At Thanksgiving time, I usually have a photo of my dad because his birthday orbits the Thanksgiving holiday.  This year, he will be 75!  Happy birthday, Dad!  As my youngest was observing the photos, he asked, "Hey! Why am I not in any of these pictures?!"

I turned to him and answered with a reflective, quiet voice, "You were in juvenile detention last year.  You weren't with us when those pictures were taken."

"Oh," was his simple response, and he likely went on to think of other things.  I kind of got stuck at that thought.

Probably, you will never know that I almost cried when I had to remind you why you were absent from the calendar pictures, our family, and our holiday celebrations during that season. 

Probably, you will never know that I cried a bunch last year while you were locked up.

Probably, you will never know that I dread heading to court early next week to deal with the next round of legal consequences for your behavior.  Dad and I don't know how to answer the big question from the judge, "Do you feel safe with him at home?" anymore.  I don't want you to be removed from our care again, but I also do not want you to feel like you have no consequences to your behavior.  We want you to be with us to celebrate the holidays, but life is so much more peaceful when you are not constantly stressing us out.

Probably, you will never know...

• how many people notice when our children SUDDENLY are absent from our lives
• how many nights Dad and I cry about your choices
• how many nights Dad and I argue about what decisions we have to make next to deal with your situation (or the other children's)
• the number of people who pray for you
• the heartache I feel
• when you mock my emotional tears, all of my defenses have been obliterated, and I can do nothing else but cry --You've won; I'm a wreck.
• how much time and energy you have flushed down the toilet when we could have been doing something fun or productive.
• how tired I truly am
• how close Dad and I have drawn toward God to deal with our life calling
• how much we care