Safe Space

When I was growing up, safe space was something I took for granted. It never crossed my mind to think that I could walk into my kitchen and see my dad raising his fists at my mom. It never occurred to me to be worried that I would walk in and see my mom taking pills she wasn't supposed to take. My house was always the one that friends wanted to come to because no one would be drunk or fighting and my mom always had snacks. I had the mom that attempted to be a good hostess to whatever gaggle of friends I had with me that day. My dad has never made me feel unsafe despite being so much taller and stronger than I am. It wasn't until college that I began to understand that I had been raised in a safe space.
Safe space is something that I am still figuring out. I remember walking into my friend Elizabeth's house my freshman year of college and immediately feeling safe. As I sat around a table with people I didn't know yet, I could feel that these people were battle ready, having fought through their own as a unit. I was in a well established safe space and I was welcomed in with open arms. My Mississippi family is one that I know, despite distance and time, will be willing to hunker down with me and work out whatever I am up against. These are the people that when you have to say hard words, look back at you unflinchingly, and stand ready to be on your team when you tap them in. When I thought about my home, and Elizabeth's home, I began to get a better picture of how I could build safe space for others.
With my girls, safe space isn't easy. It isn't already established and we have to go through battles and storms together for them to be able to know that I am someone who is actively working for their good. Sometimes, they understand and use us as a growing ground, moving past where their abusers can reach. Sometimes, they are too untrusting and I can only hope the seeds I plant with grow into safe space when watered by someone else who is trying. But as I look at my co workers, ready and willing to battle whatever comes, I know I am yet again, surrounded by safe space.
Sunday was a hard day. My emotions got the better of me and I had to walk away from a situation because the child didn't need anymore of my tears. I knew, as I looked at the people who were attempting intervention with me, that they would do no harm, and seek to aid in the restoration process. I could walk away because I knew others were committed to making safe space for my girl. All I could do was pray from afar.
As I called upon the only one who knows all, sees all and can provide the help we needed, I felt that safe space again. God was enveloping me, giving me comfort and strength to stay and accomplish all that we needed to get done to get my girls though routine. I also began to pray for those who are coming soon. Right now I have two empty rooms in my unit, so here will be two girls with stories and hurts all their own moving in in the weeks to come. I want them to know, despite where they are coming from, that this is a safe space to heal and work. Friends, in the days to come will you pray that those who are coming to me, and those who are already entrusted to my care, will understand that they are in a safe space? Pray that they will be able to focus on what matters and not be distracted by the habit of worrying about old fears, like whether or not they are going to be beaten or fed. I would also challenged you to make sure that those in your circle feel they have a safe space to be vulnerable and land after storms. Be careful with your words and deeds. Be sensitive and open to listening to hard words. Be loving and kind to those who expect condemnation and rejection. Be Christ to a world who is in desperate need of a savior.

I Believe...

One of my girls today was asking me if I believed in the tooth fairy. It was a silly conversation that stuck with me for awhile because it was very different from other conversations I have had recently. This little one was asking me if I believed in something, yet it seems in so many conversations, tv advertisements, radio blurbs and just general life, people are telling me what I should believe. I am of an age where I get to have a vote and an opinion, but people still seem to think I am not as entitled to a vote or opinion as they are. I might think I know what I believe, but they all know what I should believe. It is a frustrating place to be. All of these thoughts collided and made me sit down and think about what I really do believe and why. It is a great exercise and I would encourage you all to find time and think about yourselves as well. Here are my top 5 I came up with:

1. I believe that God sent his son Jesus to die on the cross for my sins and in so dying, paid a price I could never pay so that I could be reconciled with my Heavenly Father and Creator someday in Heaven. My job is to accept the gift I have been given and seek to follow Christ in thought, word, and  deed. 
This is where it all has to begin for me. Without God, I am nothing and can do nothing. In my darkest deepest pits, the thought that saved me from myself was that I was created to glorify God and my depression was in no way bringing Him glory, so there HAD to be more for me. I was planned and purposed by God before I was even a thought to my parents, and when I feel that I have nothing left, no where to go, or nothing to hold on to, God sustains me.

2. My calling is to love people. 
Regardless of age, gender, race, religion, nationality, sexual orientation, style, behavior, or any other factor my tired brain is forgetting, I am called to love the world around me and share the love God has for them. First and foremost, my actions and thoughts need to reflect the love of Christ and myself to a world in desperate need. Fear and hatred do not get to have strongholds in my life. People need to know God loves them and I need to be able to convey that message no matter what a person looks like.

3. Everyday magic exists.
A song, a smile, a story, a look, a laugh, a thought, a book, a cup of tea, whatever makes you happy and brings you joy is, to me, everyday magic. When I see a child's face light up because they finally figured out that word on their homework, or I find myself tapping my feet along to a song in the background, I know there is a beauty to everyday life if I take the time to pause and recognize it. I am guilty of focusing too much on the business of life and too little on the moments and missing some of that magic, but it is still there.

4. Everyone needs boundaries.
We get to be tired. We get to say no. We get to feel crummy and be grumpy. I need to know myself enough to know when I need to rest and recharge. Loving people does not mean letting them walk all over me and putting Christ first does not mean I ignore my physical and emotional limitations. God provides for us and equips us, but we are still human and need to stop feeling guilty when we have to say no.

5. If it matters to you, it matters.
Shoutout to Elizabeth Henry for this one. Those seven words changed my life. Regardless of if I understand why it matters, if it matters to someone, it is valid. People's feelings are valid. I don't get to tell people they can't or don't feel the way they think they do, and no one can tell me how I have to think or feel. Everyone gets time to react and process and if it matters to them, it matters.

I believe many other things as well, like that tea is better than coffee and strawberry cake is the best kind of birthday cake, but for me, these are what make up the core of who I am and aspire to be. I still have a long way to go and so much growing up to do, but right now, I can say I am pretty happy to be where, and who, I am.

Adaptivity

We humans have an amazing capacity to be able to adapt to our surroundings. I see it everyday with my girls. I work in a building that has a very institutionalized feel. The walls are cinderblock, the floors are hard, and everything is built to optimize the safety of my residents so there is nowhere they can go that I cannot easily get to them quickly if the need arises. I start to go stir crazy if I don't get outside every now and then, but they adapt. After all the pain and horror they have been through, they can feel comfortable in uncomfortable surroundings. When it comes time for them to leave, many feel anxious or express a desire not to go because they feel at home in our unit. They are able to play and feel safe in an environment that might seem cold to most. They thrive because they have been given the opportunity to do so, despite what their surroundings look like. 

People adapt to cold temperatures, hot temperatures, certain diets, cultures and so much more. Some of our adapting is for the better, and some, not so much. With my girls, it seems to have given them the ability to continue to act somewhat like children despite the horrors they have been through. This, I see, as adaptivity for the better. For others, it is for the worse. 

In an age where information is at our fingertips and everyone with internet access has a platform from which to speak, we have stopped being caring and careful with our speech, instead becoming caustic and callous. We have adapted to the social norm of being hateful. People who would no doubt describe themselves as good friends and neighbors, have allowed their online personals to be anything but. I see people posting things on Facebook that are demeaning, mean, and uninformed. People who have never interacted with certain people groups on a personal level, have very loud opinions about them on a public platform. This is bad enough online, but I see it bleeding into real life as well. We have become an us vs them society where if we are for something, we have to be against something else. We can't just be for a certain candidate, we have to be against the other. We get to be bitter and condescending and judge the many by the few. 

All cops aren't corrupt. All african-americans aren't thugs. All republicans aren't gun-toting racists. All democrats aren't idiots suckered into spending money by sad stories. All muslims aren't extremist terrorists. All poor people aren't looking for a handout. All rich people aren't uncaring. People are people. Regardless of religion, race, occupation or political affiliation, people are purposed and created by God. You, me, the girls I work with, the people you see on TV, and people you've never met, all are individual and unable to be known by one small fact about one facet of who they are.

 God commanded us to love others, and pray for those who persecute us. In America, most of us have no idea what that word persecution actually means. People disagreeing with you online is not persecution. In parts of the world our brothers and sisters in Christ are dying for their faith because they love people enough to put themselves at risk to ensure they have heard about the God who made them. That is persecution. How is it that those who are being killed for their faith often times can show more love and compassion for those who are different than those of us sitting in our comfortable chairs and air conditioning, watching horrors unfold on a television, and not right in front of us? We need to start adapting to the ability we have been given to love those near and far, instead of adapting to the pattern we see around us of loudly spewing hate at those who are different. God never asked us to be judge and jury, but to be his hands and feet to a world in need. We know our mission, we have been asked to love. We weren't asked to be comfortable and safe, but to be willing and serve. I pray that we can adapt in good ways, as God directs, and leave the hate behind us in the days to come. 

You won't, So I will

I have written a couple times about being able to utilize the tap out, how when I reach my limit, I am so thankful that there are people who I can ask to step in who love the children and are able to cover for me. When my physical and emotional strength are failing me, many times, I tap in Derik. Derik is one of our program coordinators so his job is to step in when we are running out of options and attempt to solve any problem that we are up against. His life is one weird, crazy situation after the other. He is also important because many of our kids have been abused by men in the past. His job is to be a functional father figure to kids who have only seen anger and pain from the men who previously filled that role. Derik and his wife Adelfa love our kids in tangible ways and are teaching them through word and deed how to respect a spouse, love a child, and be a competent adult. When Derik was talking to me about the possibility of wanting to blog, I jumped at the chance to have him write a blog for me. I am so glad you all will get a different perspective than the one I can give and get a glimpse at the heart of a great man. So without further ado, here is my first ever guest blog post from Derik Ramos. 

You won't, So I will. 

All my life I have been taught that I needed to work hard, get married, and have kids.  There where other stipulations too like graduate high school and go to church every Sunday. I have always thought that I would be a great father and cannot wait to do so. KIDS!!  I work at a youth ranch. I have worked in child care for about thirteen years and have seen several kids come through my life. This week I was honored to be a part of a Quence (a girls fifteen year birthday party). I was given the special privilege of dancing the father daughter dance. The song she picked was Cinderella by Steven Curtis Chapman. It is an absolutely amazing song. In the song the daughter ask the father of he approved of her dress.  The resident spoke with me a week before I heard the song asked me if I approved of her dress. I said yes I did and then when I heard the song, I almost cried. 
I know at this point some of you may be thinking what does this have to do with kids? I can say with a hundred percent honesty that I feel like these kids are mine and I would do anything for them. You can see it in their eyes and their actions that they love us back. A connection has been made, where before adult connections came with conditions and with strings. Here there are not strings. We want, and encourage real, and whole heartedness. We push away fake and destructive and want to build and mold for the future.  
Ok ,so I am a part of this Quence that is being held for a fifteen year old who should be having her real father there. He should be standing waiting for his beautiful daughter, dressed in a gorgeous purple dress, to be handed to him. I watch as the patchwork that makes up our village comes together to throw this girl a party. I watch her walk up and I shake the gentleman's hand who is walking her up to me. I look as she beams with pride and joy to be handed off to me. To me! Someone who is not her father, not even her blood, but will be here for as long as I can and she allows me to. 
As we started to dance to the song she looks at me and says "it's ok to cry, but if you do I'll cry too". I quickly informed her that I would not be crying and we continued dancing. (side note. Cinderella by Steven Curtis chapman is a LONG song). For the entire song I had to focus on different things around the room to keep myself from crying. I began to think about this girl's father and how he would be so proud and impressed at the beautiful girl she had become. How he should be the one to twirl her around and knock of her tiara and then start to do a funny dance so she would not be embarrassed. I poured my heart into this dance, like it was the dancing with the stars the season finale. No, we didn't get much further than a couple of twirls, but I put my heart into it. I began to think about all the residents on the ranch and how I need to be the example for all of them in all aspects of my life.
I need to show the boys how to treat a lady and the girls how a lady should be treated.  Not as a piece of meat or property, but prized and adored. I need to show the kids how to handle themselves on a daily basis with class and dignity; not some sassy person who cannot control themselves and ends up with no direction and no purpose. I need to show them how to just be a decent person and not continue the cycle. That when they hold that baby in their arms someday, that precious gift that they have is something that should not be taken for granted; it should not be left aside of neglected. It should be brought up with the best intentions and shown how to be a positive and productive person. Their parents have made this responsibility a joke and refused to do it well. They won't so I will. 
I will be the best I can. I will show that even though adversity will knock you on your butt and laugh at you while you wonder what happened, that your emotions will push you around like an eighth grade bully, that no matter he circumstances or the mountains that are in your way, you can make it. We don't have hope in this life alone and we don't have hope in ourselves alone. We have something that is greater than us. We believe in a God that will support and hold you in his arms. In your times of trouble he will be your shield or your way of escape. He will hide you in his arms and nurse you back to health. I will teach them to read their bibles and ask questions. Always ask questions. No matter who it is, or what it is, find out what's going on. I will show them that a man can love a child without having a negative motive.  
I am lost in these thoughts when she asks me to twirl her again. (I told you it's a long song) I twirl her realize that I would protect her with everything I have. I would giver her everything she needs. Not so people can pat me on the back and say good job, but so that she can see there is good and love in this world. So I dance, with my focus jumping around the room so I won't let this wonderfully made daughter of mine see me start to tear up. Through all this another emotion pops up. Sadness. Sadness for the gentleman who is missing out on this wonderful dance. I wonder where is he? I wonder, what he is doing? What kind of life is he leading? Does he miss her at all? Did he wake up this morning and have her on his mind because it's her birthday?  Did he ever wonder if this is how his life would end up without his daughter there with him? Whether from some selfish desire or inability to stop a behavior he lost her. I wondered all of these things and thought "he won't but I will". I woke up excited about this party excited about getting to dance and dress up to show that I care about what she wants. Excited that she allowed us to be a part of an important part of her life.  
So sir or ma'am I don't know who you are and to be honest I don't want to, but you have a daughter that woke up this morning. Although I'm sure she thought about you, and maybe cried and wished you where here, I was able to dance with her and see her smile. I saw tears well up in her eyes. I saw her laugh at funny stuff that happened today and before she left the cafeteria where her party was, she hugged me and said "I love you". She walked with me arm and arm to her van and I helped her get her all her presents that where given to her in the van. You sir or ma'am are  missing out, and it may be rude of me to say, but it's your loss. But your loss, is my gain and I will have and cherish the memories that you could have made.
"This song is taking forever". I make a joke, but in reality I would have danced it again had she asked me to, because that's what dads do. They dance with their daughters to a song that is hitting every emotion I have in me.  Finally the song ends and I hug her. I hold her close. I pray in my head ( because if I would have talked in that moment I would have cried) that God will give me the wisdom and understanding to help assist the residents I work with to see his amazing wonder; to see that their condition is not their conclusion.  I hope they see that sometimes you literally have to wait on the Lord and see what he will do. I let her go and much to the disappointment of the residents surrounding us I have no tears, but I do have a happy and content heart.  

Wolves amongst Sheep

"I trusted him."

"I thought it was what I deserved."

"It is how some people show love."

"It's not like anyone else wanted me."

"He made me feel like it was my fault." 

"Everyone loved him." 

"Who would believe me?"

"He was nothing like the people I had been warned about." 

Can you pick out which statements were said by girls in my unit and which ones were said to me by girls I consider to be my close friends? There are an alarming amount of people in my circle of friends who have experienced sexual abuse in some form. Some choose to identify it as rape, some use the word abuse, but either way, I have more close friends who have been abused, than I do friends who haven't. That is a scary conclusion to come to. 

I work with girls who have been abused and come from poverty or abandonment. They have had parents who thought drugs were more important than they were, or have had parents who are not mentally capable of caring for another human being.  I know girls and women who have been abused who had caring, involved parents. They went to college, were on teams in high school, went to church on Sundays and Wednesdays and were not thought to be "at risk". From what I have observed, there is not an age, race, social class, level of education or level of involvement that completely protects one from the danger of being abused. 

Some of my girls in the unit look like "typical" abuse victims. They have sad stories attached to thick files in which some bad person took advantage of them. It can be easy to picture yourself as different than my girls,  pitying them from your educated, elevated state where the civilized people are; until you realize that the person who grew up next door to you, with the perfect family Christmas card every year, has an abuse story too. 

There has got to be something wrong with the message we are giving. So many of my friends and some of the girls in my unit, were abused by someone who was, or even still is, a prominent member of a church. Some are even in leadership still today. So what do we do friends? How do we change the message we are sending?

I grew up in a church and there were a few times I can remember being separated, boys in one room, girls in another, and someone talking to us about sex. One of my best friends was kind enough to give me insight into what was shared in his room. His message basically consisted of someone telling him to be a leader, not to masturbate, and to conquer all urges with prayer. Mine was a little different.
I remember someone telling me how sad it would be if I had to apologize to my future husband on our wedding day for being incomplete because I had fallen into sin and had sex with a boyfriend before I got to the altar. I was told I needed to watch how I dressed so I wasn't tempting my male friends. I was also told my virginity tied into my self worth. There was a horrible demonstration where someone unwrapped a present  and then re-wrapped it multiple times and set it next to an unopened, beautifully wrapped present. We were then asked to choose and told that if we had sex, we would be the shabby package. God could forgive us, and we still had a present inside, but we would always be damaged. Wow. 

This issue wasn't one I personally struggled with. I moved to a new town when I was 15 and felt like God was telling me this was not my time to date. I made friendships but never felt like that part of my heart was mine to give away. This stayed that way until I was about 23. Then I felt like God was opening that part of my heart. In the midst of my depressive spiral, it was the last thing I wanted. I then began to struggle with the pain of not being pursued by any of the guys I knew or met. As I was plagued by new insecurities, I was having a conversation with one of my friends. She said something about how men are sexual beings and women are emotional beings. I nodded along, because I had heard that somewhere as well, but then the oddness stuck me. 

Men can be emotional. Women can have urges. I have male friends who have emotional struggles everyday and struggle to communicate that to a world that expects them to be tough and to lead. I have had female friends who have struggled with issues like pornography and sex addictions and felt like they had no where to turn because they weren't supposed to struggle with that, men were. We need to stop telling boys they can't be emotional and start talking to girls about what to do when you have physical urges. 

We need to stop making sex such a taboo subject to talk about. The media, movies, music videos and young adult fiction have no problems addressing sex, but in a church, we only talk about it in the smallest forms. My mom opened a dialogue with me when I was 13 about what was happening to my body and emotions. That conversation kept going. She told me not to be embarrassed or ashamed and that she was there to answer any questions I might have. We had some awkward conversations, but I am forever grateful for them, especially when I think back at all the other messages I was being told. 

Somehow, we are allowing wolves to hide amongst our sheep. We are allowing church to become a place where predators can hide and victims feel voiceless. We have created a dialogue that allows those who have been abused to feel responsible and those who abuse to feel free to continue to do so. I don't know how we change this. I don't have any grand solutions, but I know something has got to change. Whether it is the ability to make people feel free to talk about what is honestly a struggle for them, creating a place where the abused don't feel the need to cower, or modifying our message to both better equip the men and women we are raising. we have to do something different. The way the system is now, where so many feel voiceless and afraid, only continues a cycle that brings no glory to God and has no place in our lives. If we are going to call ourselves brothers and sisters, we have to step up and begin a conversation that might be difficult, but is not one we can afford to ignore any longer. If you are a parent, check in with your kids about where they are and what they think. If you work with children or youth, make sure the messages you are sending out are helpful. If you don't fall in either category, pray for those who do as they seek to change a pattern that has no place here. 

Intentionally Intentional

This week has been the week of me needing to check myself before I wreck myself. The girls were on spring break (which means I am with them from 9-9 everyday), I started the week by being sick, I have been so tired I have fallen asleep before midnight every day this week (which if you know me at all you understand the weirdness of that) and I am adjusting to a a couple new girls in the unit while also adjusting to a staffing change. Busy busy busy! I had all these wonderful intentions and plans to spend time with the girls and do projects with them, but found myself short on time and patience with seemingly endless stores of frustration and annoyance. To phrase it much more nicely than I deserve, stressed me is not the best version of me and by Saturday, I had had enough.

Two of my girls decided to have get in a fight at the pool resulting in one of the staff having to jump in and save the day. (Side note: PC DR you rock, sorry you got wet.) I was trying to figure out how this had happened and why it happened when I was given a small pool toy. Apparently this toy that was smaller than my hand was worth fighting over. I went to the kitchen to finish cooking and thought about what I was going to say to them. I was replaying their day in my head and realized that I had done many tasks for them, and was busy making sure they were on routine, but I hadn't spent any real time with them one on one for an emotional check in. Whoops! Yes, they all needed to be fed, and there were tasks we needed to get through, but I could have done a better job at the heart check in. I got busy and task oriented and forgot about being with the people in my desire to accomplish all the things. 

Saturday, I happened to have some of my essential oils and a carrier oil with me. I set out a few calming oils, had the girls pick the one that smelled best to them (Eucalyptus and Peace seemed to be the winners of the day), and gave them each an arm/hand massage. With one we talked about all the good things her hands can do, from building things with legos and cooking, to giving hugs and high fives; with another we talked about how she was settling into the unit and how she felt about living here now. The conversations weren't all deep and meaningful, but it gave me a chance to look at each of my girls and have at least 5 minutes with them where no one was mad and we weren't hurried or rushed. It gave us a chance to connect. 

Often times, because I am much more introverted than some presume me to be, I avoid chances to connect. I don't crave social interaction most times, and am quite content to be left alone. But others aren't all like me. I need to be making more of an effort to be present in the lives of those I love. It is easy to show up for friends in a crisis, but blow them off on the day to day because I am busy or tired. I know my family love me no matter what, so it is easy to give them the short end of the stick when they don't deserve it. In social situations, I feel anxious and awkward, so I can almost always find a very legitimate sounding excuse to not go and be present when I am asked. I can address the crowds, but mingling is intimidating. I was anxious to go see my Dad perform in an Easter Pageant at church, but was so glad I went as it was amazing and I may or may not have cried...several times. I miss out on things I am sad to have missed because I can't work up the courage or muster the energy to connect. 

I am also not intentional with my down time, seeking to get the introvert time I need and charge myself up for my next activity. I must be better at this. I need to stop letting being busy become an excuse to completely cut myself off from the world whenever I get a chance. I need to take time and breathe, and then get back out there. I need to be intentional in my rest to better facilitate my work. I need to be intentional, both when I connect and disconnect, so I am not using one as a defense mechanism to hide from myself or others. I need to learn to rest, really rest, so that I can better connect with those I love. Notice how many times I said intentional? I am recognizing the issue and now it is time to work! If I have blown you off using being busy or tired as an excuse, I am sorry, and I am working on it. Hopefully I will learn to rest more intentionally (there is that word again) so that I can connect with you all better in the days to come. 

Unconditional Love in a Conditional System

Most of the time, I love what I do. I love getting to work with this population of children and I love where I get to work. There are some days however, that the system on the whole angers me. I live in an ever-evolving symphony of case workers, CASA workers, lawyers, guardians, therapists, judges, doctors and probably a few others my very tired brain is forgetting about right now. All of these people come together to decide what is best for the children I work with, but they are never all in the same room. Messages are passed from one office to the next and in all the shuffle, the child I see everyday becomes a file in a stack somewhere. The children are read more than they are actually seen. 

One of my kids came to me with an aggressive rap sheet, a long list of transgressions and the highest level of care you can possibly be in the state of Texas. She had also been in 14 placements in 18 months. She has become a completely different person now that she has been allowed to get used to a place, let some people get to know her, and start to feel comfortable. We are still talking to people all the time who think she is the same kid who walked in our doors because they haven't seen the new her yet. I am always so happy when she gets to re-introduce herself to someone who only ever knew the old her and she gets to show off. I am so proud of the kid she is becoming. 

The system, while it does so much good, also has conditions that are sometimes hard. We can't always look and the hows and whys of a situation. When they are older, there is less and less time to help them become anything other that a sad statistic. I can understand why someone would lash out in anger, but I still have to record the violence they displayed. I can understand why they were scared, but I still have to label them as a runner. Understanding can't be excusing, and knowing that they have been through hell can't give them a free pass to not be decent human beings. Yesterday, that was hard. 

I sat in a room with a very well meaning individual about a week ago who kept talking to one of my children about when she went home. They discussed where she would go to school, how these years were the hardest but would all be worth it when she was home, how to get along with her siblings when they were under the same roof again, and the process for her moving home. The parting words from that meeting were about keeping up the good work and how motivated her family was to have her home and that maybe they could swing a day visit over spring break. I watched that child tell herself over and over this week "You wanna go home" and "this isn't worth it" and "you have your family waiting for you." She was trying so hard. 

Yesterday, she was told her siblings were adopted and she wasn't. As that child is lashing out at me and other staff with her hands and feet in a confusing mess of rage and grief, I was having my own internal crisis. I had to be the harsh, I had to get to the darkness she was trying to hide, bring it to light and give us someplace to build from tomorrow. I had to look a child in the face who was just told she didn't meet the conditions placed before her, and she wasn't going home, and try to show her unconditional love. It is a very confusing message; both that she has failed at meeting a requirement, but that there is not a requirement for me loving her. How does she believe me when everything around her is a point system she passes or fails, even her home? 

This child has made mistakes in the past. She reacted to situations with violence and rage, said some things she never should have said, and made some choices she deeply regrets now. She, like so many others I have seen before her, decided to be scarier than the person that scared her. But the girl with me yesterday, sobbing and raging against the world, was not a defiant adult, but a terrified and hurt child; one who said she is afraid of me because I might leave her too. 

It is so hard to show these children unconditional love and grace, to try to help them trust me and know that I am not running from their darkness, when the system might remove them from my care at any time. Messages get mixed up, kids are told they are going home when they aren't, parents say they will show up for visits and don't, people promise them things and don't deliver and people like me and those I work with are left with the fallout. I don't blame the kids for being wary of me and not trusting that I am there to help. 

Yesterday was hard. Today will be hard. My heart hurts for this child of mine, but ultimately she is, and always will be God's. That has to be where I find my peace. The state may move her, but God never leaves her. I may see growth that God has someone else water. I may never see progress, but God has a plan. I may encounter pain and grief and rage again and again, but God gives me strength and endurance. Ultimately, that is where I have to be in line. I work within the guidelines of Texas, but I work for God. On days where they don't understand, God can give clarity. On days where they are drowning in sorrow, God can give hope. On days when they are raging against the world, God can show them the beauty inside it. 

Friends pray for us, because this work is hard. Pray for my one who was left behind. Loving people in ways they can understand is so hard, and so many of you do this in different ways. I am praying for you as you seek to help those around you understand the unconditional love of God in a conditional world. May you have strength and grace, wisdom and purpose, hope and joy, and discernment to know your limits as you minister where you are.