Space

In 2004 I was the lucky "lottery" winner in my town's affordable 40B housing program. For those unfamiliar with 40B homeownership, it is a program in my state designed to enable lower/moderate income families to purchase homes in more affluent communities where homeownership would otherwise be impossible. My dear friend who works for my town explained the process and encouraged me to apply. At that time, I was a single parent to one daughter, and condos were being built in the town I grew up in. We would qualify for a 2 bedroom condo. It was a fantastic opportunity to buy a condo in a town with a great school system and with more racial diversity than where we were living. I, along with five other families, were the recipients of the opportunity to buy one of these condos at half price, alongside fifteen others who would purchase a unit at full price. It was certainly an answer to a prayer, and has been a tremendous blessing for which I am incredibly grateful.

Over the years, as my family grew, we have adjusted our living space to make things work. When I said yes to bringing Hannah Joy home, I knew that my dream of owning a three bedroom condo or small home where the kids could play outside would need to be put aside. If I wanted to move to a southern state I could likely live this dream. But, given that I now have a child in middle school, whose emotional security centers around consistency, it would be unfair. Besides, I have two children who need to be at our current medical facility for their thalassemia treatment. And I need my amazing support network, so that parenting my girls is possible. So, we have brainstormed and adapted our 2 bedroom condo to fit our family needs. We did not need a dining room given the size of our kitchen, and made that into a third bedroom space. My eldest would occupy this space given her needs of needing to stay up later than her sisters to complete homework. It worked well for a while until, as she tried to complete homework, she was constantly disrupted by her younger sisters as there was no door to close out the sound. We made it through the academic year, and last nite, thanks to some great guys, we "switched" rooms. My eldest now has the second bedroom with a door, my two middles have their bunks in our makeshift third bedroom, and the baby, well, she still sleeps with me.

Last nite, the excitement was palpable. The girls were so excited with their new spaces. The guys even installed a ceiling fan since there is no window in the dining room/third bedroom. The girls LOVED this, especially as Nate put his hand into the running fan to show the girls they would not be hurt if a hand (or head) hit the fan while running. This was added security for Lianna, who occupies that top bunk.

Our mercies continue to abound. There is no way we could have possibly moved all that furniture by ourselves. My friends graciously agreed to come do all the work, after working long days themselves. They never complained once about the collections of things the girls have. They helped move, install, and even vacuum while four little girls all looked on. We are so grateful for their care. And last nite, my sweet girls all slept happily in their new spaces.

Father's Day

I knew something was wrong about half way through this morning's service when my littlest one started saying she was "cold". The last time she used these words, she was running a fever. Sure enough, by the end of the service she was crying in the parking lot to go. With a 102.5 fever. It was the topper to a day which is already hard for us.

Father's Day is hard for my girls, which makes it hard for me too. It is the one time where they feel singled out for not having a dad present in their life. They all know they have birth fathers, and those who had foster fathers know of them too. And, we are fortunate to have a few exceptional male role models, whose presence is deeply appreciated and recognized. But this day isn't "positive male influence day". It's Father's Day. When my oldest was in 1st grade, each child had to do a project. The teacher called my daughter to the front of the classroom. She was asked "what do you love most about your dad"? The question was innocent enough. My brave daughter's eyes filled with tears. "I don't have a dad" she replied. The teacher then remembered I am a single parent. She tried to ensure that the beautiful craft she had prepared with the words Dad on it, could be made appropriate for a grandfather. But, it didn't matter. It was out there, in front of my then 1st grader and her classmates to see. The teacher quickly emailed a heartfelt apology, and I chose to forgive her. I later explained to my daughter that sometimes people make mistakes. Sometimes, those people are even teachers or other trusted people that we feel should know better. Every year as Father's Day approaches, my girls are torn between their desire to honor the wonderful men in our lives, and the loss they experience for my singleness. It is days like today that I wish my life was more traditional and I wish I had a husband. Someone to cherish these precious girls with.

Today's sermon by our beloved pastor was about God as Father. How He cares about us both spiritually and physically. How we are His adopted children, and He loves us as much as He loves His biological child. As I sat there listening, and looking around at the proud fathers sitting around me, I was reminded about how God weaves families together, including my beautiful family. I was reminded of our mandate to care for orphans and widows. Not everyone is called to adopt, but, we are all called to love and provide care. I remembered my call. That call to bring 4 little girls into my life, and trust in His provision. Single parenting is not easy. Single parenting 4 children, all with their own individual needs, stretches me to my max. I worry that tomorrow I will need to be out of work with my sick child, with only 4 hours of sick time left until our new fiscal year July 1st. I worry that due to fever, one or both of my two chronically transfused children will be unable to be transfused this week, which creates havoc in trying to get it rescheduled and more missed time off from work. I worry that I will be unable to meet with my new staff person who starts tomorrow, or the two other new staff who have started in the past few weeks and continue to need my supervision and support. In my limitations, I cannot do it all and I let people down despite my best efforts. Life happens, and it is messy despite how I wish it would look sometimes. If there is one important lesson I am learning through my 4th adoption it is that it is impossible to do all of this alone. Impossible. Which again reminds me of the message so brilliantly spoken today. He is my Father. He is my girls' Father. We are adopted into His family. He is asking me to rely on Him, and He will take care of me. He will take care of us. I just need to trust. And lean on His mercy as He continues to offer His provision through the many people He has placed in our life.