letter from a mister.

I am tired. 

I am so tired physically. It’s a daily battle to round up the energy to get through everyday. I am so tired emotionally; of smiling, of letting people know that “I’m good,” and “I’m ok…” because, honestly, there are times where people need to know that I am ok, so that they could be okay. And friends, I am so so tired. 

It’s a daily dance, this grieving season. Some days, I do feel ok. Like today. I had oatmeal for breakfast and a sandwich for lunch, had a smoothie with my fiance, and smiled and laughed and it felt real. I was ok today. 
But then there are others where my stomach is so sensitive, and my body so weak, that thinking about the task of eating just seems like torture. And, on occasion, thinking about sitting at a front desk with a giant smile actually makes walking on coals seem more attractive.
Don’t get me wrong. I am eating three meals a day, and I do feel blessed to have a job in this season, but I need you to understand that this “situation” as social services and family court would deem it, this “situation," which makes even them, the "professionals” unhappy, is a result of the Fall, and my heaven-bound heart can’t handle it everyday–I was not created to handle this. Just like our hearts weren’t created to handle pains like cancer, betrayal, divorce…we weren’t intended for such pains. 

But, they happen. And there’s good in these pains. We can all attest to coming out of those dark times and seeing the light that much brighter-we all have our stories of true redemption. 

And, if I am going to be crudely honest with you for a moment…this situation gets me pissed. Yes, I said it…I am angry. I am angry that there is a system in place that can’t do anything until a child is faced with physical harm. There is nothing being done to prevent the abuse, only react to it. I am angry that there are hundreds of one, two, three and up year olds in Orangewood with no one tucking them in, entering the crisis with them, and looking them in the eyes to speak life-giving, life-changing truths over them–even if their time with them is too short.

I am angry that the statistics of successes for adults that aged out of this system (created to protect them) are too dim for anyone to acknowledge, so we turn a blind eye and toss a quarter in their jar as they beg out on the streets. 

What are we doing, California? What are we doing Orange County? What are we doing, Church? 

The legislation set up, for now, is to provide birth-parents with as many chances as possible. But this is where my heart races and my palms sweat–parents (adults) have voices. They can defend themselves and speak up for themselves. Children (let’s take it one step further…) traumatized children breathe innocence-they are just learning their first words and in constant development…we have to cease putting such a giant task on the shoulders of these children. 
It’s time for change. 

But, right now, all we can do is pray, and enter the crisis with them–please, I beg you…don’t shy away just because you might end up with a broken heart. This system is broken because this world is broken, and just as this world was in desperate need of a Savior, these children are in desperate need of a hero to step into the gap for them. 

And there’s things you can do to step in, but the biggest is to pray-our God is 
a God of action; and He is a Father who loves His kids. 

And so I leave you with this verse to pray over the children who have no one to pray with them at night: 

Jeremiah 29:11:
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 
I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity…”