Black Lives Matter.

These are the days of change; whether it is for the betterment of the world, or to its detriment, remains to be seen. After the conversations that have begun to happen and the reshaping of how we define "normal" by current events, we will never again be in the world we lived in before March. So where do we go from here? 
Everyone sees the world through glasses colored by their own experiences. I have learned, after almost six years working the foster care world, that my own childhood cannot be the standard by which I view my children's behaviors. I was never abused, abandoned or neglected. My parents, though imperfect people in an imperfect world, are still seeking to know, love and support me as they have done throughout my life. My children however, have lived through things that make me uncomfortable to read on paper or listen to at times. They have been degraded, ostracized, harmed, and had to think through things I would have never had to consider just to be able to survive. Because our experiences are so different, a very large part of my job is to be a listener. I need to listen to them as they process past trauma and sit through hard conversations that sometimes make me feel physically ill. It is my job to listen, so that their burdens can be eased by the sharing.
Another part of my job is to then modify my behaviors so they in no way resembles the abuse my kids have suffered. If one of my kids feels triggered by me standing between them and the doorway when the lights are off in their room, it doesn't matter that my intention was to ensure they had all their blankets so they can sleep comfortably. It doesn't matter that nothing ever happened to me in a dark room so I don't have those experiences in my personal history. It doesn't matter that standing between a child and a doorway in the dark would have never have been a behavior I noticed six years ago. It doesn't matter that there are "easy" solutions that the child can work on to get themselves over that fear. What matters is that they are afraid. What matters is that they have been hurt. What matters is that I move out of the doorway so they can see an exit and feel safe. Even off the clock, I still see it as my job to listen and to modify so that those around me feel safe, because once you begin to see the pain in the world around you, adding to it by ignorance or inaction is unacceptable. 
Another thing my job has taught me is to watch out for the attention seekers. A couple weeks ago I had one of my girls very calmly ask me to process with her about how to handle an issue in her cabin. One of her peers was making rude statements about pretty much every aspect of her life and day, continuing to seek her out and antagonize her, despite her asking the peer to stop. While talking with her, the girl who had been rude to her walked up and demanded my attention, yelling and cussing because "she needs to get my name out of her mouth". She then continued to throw a fit, drowning out the calm words of the peer she had hurt. That child was an attention seeker. She was being who causes pain and then becomes very loud in order to draw attention and drown out the voices of the ones they have hurt, one who points out the splinter they acquired while attempting to beat down others with a plank. In spewing hate that day she thought she could overwhelm her peer's hurt. That was not the case. All it took was me calmly observing the situation, listening to both girls, and then enforcing boundaries to protect the one that was being hurt. It took about 15 minutes of listening and modifying in order for one to feel safe, and one to have it reinforced that they are not allowed to bully their peers. Throughout the next week I watched to make sure that boundaries were respected and consequences for breaking those boundaries were enforced. It was incredibly easy.
The way that these experiences have shaped my worldview in light of current events is this, if you are not a Black American, it is your job to listen to Black Americans. It is not your job to cause pain (either by action or inaction),  and then scream to try to draw attention to yourself and drown out their voices. If there is pain, it is our job as Christians and citizens of a democratic nation, to listen to what is causing the pain and then modify the system in order to not re-traumatize past victims, to end the abuse of current victims, and to prevent the abuse of anyone else. If you are a person who holds power, authority or privilege, it is your responsibility to ensure that those who don't hold these are not hurt by how you wield yours. It is your job to empower others who are delighted in by their creator (hint:everyone) as we all seek to bring hope to a dying world.
Jesus wasn't a white man. Jesus didn't stick to one social or ethnic group in his ministry but commissioned us to go make disciples of ALL nations. Jesus didn't dismiss the blindness, leprosy, or even death of those he came across because he himself had not experienced those things. Jesus did not dismiss pain, he addressed it. Outside of politics and personal experience, outside of race and gender, outside of age and social status, we are all human beings who were created in the image of our creator. God designed us to bring him glory. How does dismissing someone's hurt bring healing? How does that glorify God?
You all matter because you exist in the world for a reason and are designed by God. But we also need to be verbally, physically and emotionally supporting our brothers and sisters in Christ by listening to their stories and modifying the systems that are causing them pain. Focusing on the area of pain and abuse doesn't mean the other areas matter less, it means they aren't the ones in active danger. Black lives matter. Black lives matter to Jesus and they matter to me. Expressing that in no way lessens my worth, it only validates the worth of those who have been oppressed for far too long.
If you are not a Black man or woman in America, let us use this time to listen, learning the stories of people who have walked a different road than we have. Then let us be sure that when we speak, we speak loudly in love against oppression, abuse and racism, using our voices to ensure that the pain of tomorrow is less than the pain of today. Let us make modifications to truly be one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Christmas Love

Every year I seem to identify with different aspects of the Christmas story. Some years I’ve identified with the wise men as I follow the signs, bringing what gifts I have to offer to my Savior. Other years I’ve identified more with Mary, where I am trusting God to equip me for what I feel is an impossible task. Each year brings me new insights and connection points to the story that begins the amazing journey of love Jesus took, to walk among us and save us from our sins by growing in our world to give us a path to His glory. I’m amazed by Mary’s obedience, Joseph’s trust, the wise men’s journey, the angel’s song, and the shepherd’s joy that herald the birth of the greatest gift we could ever be given.
This year, instead of identifying with a different person from the story of Jesus’ birth, I found myself seeing the echoes of the love of this story being lived out around me. I see the love Joseph and Mary had for their son, uprooting their lives from the land they have known and going to Egypt. Joseph and Mary did not take the journey because it was easy, but because it was necessary. Mary and Joseph were ordinary people through whom God showed his extraordinary love for the world. Mary was given the Savior to give to us all, and now it is our job to make sure that everyone knows about the gift that we have received. 
I see the love of the wise men, taking a long journey to bring gifts to a child, echoed in the love my coworkers have for our kids as they seek to love them, jumping into messes and walking alongside them as they grow. Like the star in the sky the wise men followed, we seek to point our kids toward the light, showing them the signs and ways to navigate the path so they can make it to their destinations. The night sky can look confusing and random, but if you know how to read it, you can navigate the world. This skill is what I see my team working tirelessly to develop in our kids. The wise men stepped out in faith to celebrate a Savior, and my team steps out in faith, hoping our celebration of our Savior points our  kids toward their true healer and guide.
Christmas is full of love as this year comes to a close and a new year is about to begin. May we all remember to take the love of this season as we move forward with the gift we have been given, seeking to ensure that everyone we meet has a chance to encounter Christ.

Language Barrier

I have been lucky enough to travel to other parts of the world and experience  new cultures and rhythms of life. In the Dominican Republic I rode on the back of a "moto" and was terrified out of my mind for 30 minutes as my driver proceeded to drive away from my group, leading to me being alone with someone and completely at their mercy. He then drove to a whole new area in Santo Domingo and told to get off in front of a dilapidated house I had never seen before. My panic made me lose what little language skill I have and he suddenly found himself with a human backpack as I wrapped myself around him and told him "it's gonna be a two for one deal buddy. I'm not getting off the bike." He was confused, I was terrified, and then an elderly woman exited the house and began yelling at him in rapid fire Spanish. He then seemed to realize this wasn't where I was supposed to be dropped off. I then realized that this house was the kind woman's home, and not a drug den where I was about to be sold. The woman then smiled and told me "You go home". We had needed a translator and this woman was able to step into our situation and help me get where I needed to go. We then zoomed through Santo Domingo once more and I found myself in front of the church we were working with. I was safe.
In South Korea, we got to go to a cultural event where many different types of music and dancing were performed. Before it began, I left my friend in our seats and ran back down to the subway station to use the restroom because I knew where it was and it was close. On my way down, a man saw me and started talking to me. I excused myself from the conversation and he followed me. As I turned to try to make myself as clear as possible, that I did not need or want his attention, I felt a hand on my arm. Yet another elderly woman was coming to my rescue. As she spoke rapid fire Korean to my unwanted shadow, he seemed to finally get the message. He then apologized and walked away. She however walked slowly behind me all the way to the restroom before patting me on the arm, smiling and walking away. This woman was able to communicate with me without words and ensure I was safe. I then got to go back to my friend and have an amazing once in a lifetime experience of visual and auditory art.
Overall, in both countries, I was surrounded by people who were helpful and kind and beautiful. I got to have moments of stillness to just watch and absorb how different parts of the world work. In doing this, I found that the more I absorbed, the easier it was to interpret and navigate these new cultures. Those moments of stillness helped me jump into the flow of life around me and not drown. Approaching these new cultures with a sense of respect and a willingness to learn was key. I, as the visitor to their daily lives, was not there to teach them to live as I do, but to see the beauty in how they live. In moments of confusion or potential harm, God sent me translators to help me navigate.
In South Korea and in the Dominican Republic I was around cultures that were markedly different to my own, but even here at home I am surrounded by different cultures. You are too. I live in a world that would give many of you culture shock. I speak a language that sounds like English, but probably wouldn’t  make sense to most of you. My work is a whole new world and way of life and at the moment, we need a translator. We also need people to sit with our culture and take those moments of stillness to just absorb and learn.
The foster care system in the state of Texas is being rebuilt. There are some changes that will be great and I can see being so positive for our kids. There are other changes that baffle me. The way that we serve kids is under attack. Based on their own biases, not taking time to be still and absorb our world, we are getting judged. Like in the Dominican, when I mistook a lovely woman's home for a drug den, people have come in and judged us on what they see at a glance. In twisting our truth to serve their purposes, they are creating weapons to use against us that in no way help our children. We need a translator. We need someone who can speak both languages and be heard. My kids have been through enough.
The idea that all kids deserve a safe and loving home with family, be it blood related or not, is 100% true and valid. But there aren't homes opening their doors to my kids. There isn't a long list of foster homes wanting kids that we are snatching up and putting in a placement instead. Some of my kids have behaviors that make  everyday life extremely difficult for them to navigate without an on call team to step in and assist. Some of my kids are terrified of places that remind them of home and take comfort in our structure as they heal. Some of my kids are part of sibling sets that are trying out life together again in a safe environment that allows them to be a part of the “we” but to focus on the “me” and not have to parent or protect. What we do matters, and we do it well.
 I have kids moving emotional mountains and learning to trust again because of the world we have created here. God called me here and has equipped me to stand up for these kids for the past five years and I am still not fluent in our culture. I am still learning and absorbing as I go. I have learned that authority can be given, but respect is earned. At the end of the day, respect is what forms a relationship, and a relationship is where healing takes place.
These past few weeks we have been judged, re shaped, lied about, lied to and had to make rapid fire changes while being overworked and understaffed. It has been hard. My kids are, so far, protected from most of this as the team of adults surrounding them takes hit after hit while trying to help them feel safe, loved, seen and heard. Pray for them. This is their home. Pray for us that we can continue to discern what God wants from us as we move forward, and that on a Federal level, they will learn our culture with grace and understanding. Pray that they will listen to the ultimate Healer and Judge as they pass down changes. The Creator of cultures understands ours, and I am entrusting the whole situation to His hands. Pray that God will call up the right people to come do battle alongside me for my kids as we fight against an abusive cycle repeating in their lives. Finally friends, pray for yourselves, that  as you go about your daily lives you will be able to respectfully learn the cultures around you as you work to impact your world for Christ.

I love it when you try.

Due to staffing shortages I have been spending some of my days as a Houseparent recently, usually to our younger boys cabin. Let me tell you, eight boys in one cabin is a LOT of personality. Yesterday I wasn’t their Houseparent, but I was still there at bedtime due to another issue. After settling that issue, the typical bedtime questions started coming at me, “miss can you tuck me in”, “miss can I have a hug”, “miss can you pray with me”. I said sure and moved from room to room hearing small snippets of their day, from being proud of their accomplishments, to asking for help to make a plan for a better day tomorrow. Then I came to the room with the most personality of all. In this room we have one who has multiple mood swings a minute combined with some of the worst impulse control I’ve ever seen, and one who is in a sibling set of four so he is always striving to been seen and be an individual.
Mr. Moody wanted the outside light on and Mr. Individualist wanted it off. I tried to come up with a compromise and put a towel over the window of Mr. Individualist so he didn’t have light shining on him, while Mr. Moody didn’t have to be in the dark. The only issue is, those windows are tall...and I am not. As I attempted to hang the towel over the curtain, Mr. Individualist giggled and said “Miss you are so short”. I laughed and said “I know bud, but I’m trying!”, which ultimately caused more giggles to ensue from both boys as I stood on my tippy toes trying to block out what light I could so that both boys could sleep in comfort. After I finished I noticed that I hadn’t really blocked out much light, and that despite all my efforts, the towel was crooked. I was ready to pull it down and try again when Mr. Individualist said “thanks miss that’s much better, I love it when you try”, to which Mr. Moody replied “yeah Miss is good at trying”. Then both asked for hugs, told me they loved me and went to bed. As I walked out of the room, that phrase echoed in my head. “I love it when you try”. It didn’t matter to my boys if I perfectly had one with light and one without, it mattered that I heard them and made an effort.
Sometimes, in today’s world of photoshop and instant gratification, we can be afraid to try if perfection can’t be achieved. We don’t move for fear of not having an Instagram or Facebook worthy result that will be shared and liked by all those who see it. Now, don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with doing something well, or of being proud of your successes and hard work, but there is also beauty in the effort that doesn’t always pay off. There are lessons learned from crooked towels on tall windows.
God’s strength is often displayed in our weakness. Those things we can’t do can often highlight what He can do. We are called to follow, we are called to community and we are called to try. Loaves of bread and fish weren’t multiplied by perfect words, planning and execution, they were multiplied by Christ, and the faithful effort of sharing what one boy had. Friends, don’t be afraid to try. Go where you are led, trusting God to equip you along the way. Listen to the needs around you and try to address them. Show up for people even if you aren’t sure how to to help or what to do. Trust that God’s perfection can multiply your effort to bless his children as you seek to make everyday acts of service glorify Him. Trust who make you and the purpose for which you were made. God loves it when we try, and Mr. Individualist does too.

30 and Thank You!

Tomorrow I am turning thirty. I have lived three decades of life! So weird. I was thinking back on my life so far today and it has been crazy, but it has been fully mine. I have walked a different road to get to where I am today. I have not followed "typical" timelines or hit every milestone many others have, but I am so blessed to be where I am today. 

I have an amazing family. Seriously. You guys are the best. I am supported and loved, but also challenged. I feel like I have a front row seat to history when I look at my three epic nephews and getting to see them grow and learn amazes me. My sister and brother in law are some of my biggest supporters and a safe space where I know that I will get love, authentic conversation, and probably cry because I am laughing so hard. My parents are physically and emotionally present in my life. That is huge. My mom showed up today to bring me flowers and balloons so that I can walk into my office tomorrow and feel loved. They love in big ways and small. I have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and extended family that I am proud to call my own. Doing what I do everyday, and seeing the lives my kids have led, I feel so blessed to be surrounded by a tribe I enjoy. 

I have great friends. I have some friends that I am getting to know, and some who have walked me through trial and fire, still standing with me when the smoke clears. I have been so grateful to be able to find people who I can be myself around, without having to add or subtract pieces of myself to try to fit in. I might not have the largest circle, but my circle goes deep. I have people that I can depend on, and who I want to show up for when they are having trials as well. It's this give and take that makes a me, into a we, and I have been so blessed to be included in the circles of some amazing people. 

I love love love my job. I never have the same day twice. Walking out of one building today I was suddenly surrounded by five of my kids who all wanted hugs and to tell me things that they were excited about. I get to be there in happy moments and sad, for the easy and the hard, and it is extremely fulfilling to feel like I am where I am called, and equipped to be. 

Looking at all the ways that God has blessed me, I am so thankful for my life. There were days in my 20s that I questioned whether or not life was worth it, if the hard was too hard, and the good not good enough. I can say now, it is worth it. I am so glad that I struggled through dark days and periods where I felt consumed by the chaos. I am so glad I kept moving, let people in to my struggle and tried again. My life is no where near perfect. I am messy, not the greatest with timelines, struggle with social anxiety and a whole host of other things that hit my insecurity alarm as the days pass by. But, looking back, and looking forward, I can say I am glad to be who I am, be where I am, and have been where I was. So to all of you who have been part of my journey so far, thank you. Thinking back on the memories we have made, and looking forward to the ones we will make has made me smile today. Here is to the next 30 years! 

Don't call it a comeback....

Y'all. I feel like I should tell you guys that I have about 7 different journals and diaries that I halfway started growing up that never made it past a month. I always had the best of intentions, but horrible followthrough. One begins "I am 11 now so I am grown up enough to remember to write in this everyday." It then went on to list the boys I liked and how I was going to marry one of them someday. Well, since I am a single pringle, that part obviously didn't work out. And want to take a guess at how many days I kept up that practice of writing everyday? Just that one. It is the only entry in the entire diary. Well that and a pretty sweet drawing of what my wedding would look like. Art has never been my thing, but those potatoish looking people sure were sparkly! In my defense, all the diaries and journals look really cool on the outside so at least I have good taste in the books I never used! My blog somehow became one of those forgotten journals. It took multiple people asking me why I stopped writing for me to realize that it had happened yet again! You guys were witness to my forgotten journal number 8. Whoops! I would say something like "I am about to turn 30 and will be able to keep up with writing consistently because I am an adulting adult who adults" but let's be real...based on my track record, and how often I straight up forget I have a twitter account, it makes more sense for me to just say that I will try to be more consistent. Seriously. I will try. 11 year old Amy is shaking her head at me because she tried too, but hopefully almost 30 year old me will be a little more consistent.
So, basic life update time! I am still at my job and most days I love it. My work is challenging in the best way and I get to work with an amazing team. Some people have shifted off my team, and some new faces have stepped into the picture, but I couldn't ask for better people to navigate the chaos with. There are definitely days that I question my sanity and want to escape into a cubicle somewhere, but most days I am glad to be exactly where I am. I get to be surrounded by hills and trees and a tribe of people who keep me upright and moving forward. I may not have all the typical 30s boxes checked (house, husband, kids) but I have learned to own the path I walk and celebrate the journey I am on. My life may not be "typical" but it is wonderful.
Except when it isn't. I've been pretty open with you guys about my struggles with depression and this past year has had some difficult moments. There have been days when the trees surrounding my house feel like bars caging me in and I struggle to move or breathe or interact with anyone in a meaningful way. But those days, minutes, and moments pass. Honestly, my kids help. Seeing the things they carry, and the way they keep moving, encourages me to try again. God definitely knew where I needed to be in order to grow! Some days my victories are helping my kids find a coping skill or move on from an issue or move closer to a goal. Other days my victories are standing up and putting on deodorant. I've learned to count them all as wins. My life isn't very different from when I last let you have a glimpse of it, but hopefully, in the months I have lived since then, I have grown.
For the sake of helping myself be more accountable, i'm telling you here, that my plan is to write another blog before I am officially 30. I started writing the other day about my 20s and I think it is something I want to share with you. So for those of you still with me, thanks for sticking around and caring enough to remind me that I needed to start posting again. You communicating to me that this matters to you is more meaningful than you know!

Incorrect Comparisons

Today i've written coping skill poetry, chased runaways, physically held children who want to hurt themselves or others, sat on the ground pretending to be a butterfly with a child, fast talked a child into attempting to complete a chore, dealt with some secrets and frustration, given 4839 hugs and danced in the rain. I have been what has been needed in the moment and had to be an emotional chameleon. I love what I do. My children deserve so much more than they are given. They have come through hell and back again and are doing emotional work most adults find difficult in an attempt to break a cycle they didn't choose. All that I do on a daily basis gives me a glimpse into a world many will never enter. So many of you have been so compassionate about the trials of my children and been so prayerful about the next steps some of them will take. But compassion in one area does not excuse a lack of compassion in another simply because my children are citizens and others are not.

As I am on the road to sanctification and becoming who God intends me to be, I am so thankful that God fosters individual relationships with his children and delights in our differences. I can only imagine that in creating the world, God was expressing his artistry. God is about the individual, but I seem to see so many of his children making sweeping, uninformed generalizations on social media. So many people who have been so kind in person, are so cold in posts. Regardless of politics, age, race, gender, net worth or any other factor, I believe that we are called first and foremost to love. Jesus went to the least of these. Jesus got down in the dirt and reached out his hands towards those who were seen as untouchable. Jesus loved in tangible and real ways. We are called to be followers of Christ, but are we looking for him outside our comfort zones and political parties?

All of this to say, my children are not your statistic. When I have spent my days on the ground holding children as they cry or try to hurt themselves or others because of the horror they have lived through, it stuns me to see them used as a Facebook status by people who don't know them to prove a poorly made and incorrect point. What is happening in our world is heartbreaking. What is happening in our nation is heartbreaking. What is happening at our boarders is heartbreaking. It also breaks my heart to see what is happening to families who are not here legally compared to what has happened to my children. These are individual stories and individual people. Do not make a generalization that trivializes the horror of what happens to both my children, and those who are being taken from their families at the boarder. Do not equate people who abuse children, with people who are searching for better for their children. Yes, coming to the country illegally is illegal, but there is a difference between crossing a boarder without approval, and abuse. You are painting desperate people as monsters and trivializing the monsters who haunt the nightmares of my children every night. My children are abused and then put in a system filled with people like me who are trying to help and love them. The children taken from their families at the boarder are held in conditions that would get my organization shut down. It is in no way the same. 

I understand that people have different viewpoints and priorities. I understand that other people have things that are very important to them that I don't place value or worth in. I understand that, because of where we live and the freedoms that we have, these opinions are allowed to be expressed. But it is still heartbreaking to see my kids, who work so hard to become something other than a statistic, become one for someone who wants to make a point that I honestly don't believe Jesus would make. It is heartbreaking to see families ripped apart at the boarder and then see what is accepted as "humane" treatment of children and adults, simply because they are not legal citizens. 

I would urge you to remember your compassion. Be a Christian first and an American second. Have your political views, but make sure that you remember the individuals behind the sweeping generalizations you make. And please, don't use my kids to try to prove your point. They are working really hard every single day.