#GraciousHealing2020

In my scrolling recently, I stumbled upon a photo that asked 7 incredible questions.

I decided to use these questions to shape my year-in-review. This year was hard and messy but full of beauty and God’s goodness.

What did you learn?

More than anything this year, I learned that my greatest area in need of healing was acknowledging my own brokenness. For so long I have tried (and failed) to pretend that I wasn’t absolutely destroyed inside. I tried to keep going as if I wasn’t hanging on by a single thread. Then, 2020 happened, and that thread snapped. I broke. I completely broke this year -- the kind of breaking that must happen for true healing to occur. The kind of broken that is laying on the ground and crying out to God.

This year I quit, I missed deadlines, I broke fasts, and I let myself completely fail. It doesn’t feel even a little bit good, but oddly enough I know that these experiences were healing. Real and honest and true healing. This year I was not obsessed with identity management or prideful masks, but it was an honest reflection of my brokenness. Freeing? Still to be determined, but honestly felt like the first step.

This year, God called me to remember. He allowed me to first remember the truth and depth of my pain. Then, He called me to remember HIs good works as I read through the entire Bible this year. He asked me to remember Him in all things and at all times.

Everything was so scary. I could choose to live or choose to lose myself -- either choice was scary. This year, I committed and trusted and walked in bravery even though I was afraid. I saw some of the worst-case scenarios happen, and I am on the other side of them. Now, I am desperately hoping to find myself back to a place of felt safety.

I learned that I don’t know who I am or what I need - so how can I expect anyone else to?

I saw how my kids have the ability to extend grace in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined.

I learned that I am afraid of my own feelings -- I learned to let myself feel in truly healing ways.

God has redeemed so many incredibly difficult things in my life that felt like the end of the world. I am now seeing how they were only the beginning of a beautiful story.

Therapists are not immune to deep darkness. In fact, they are more susceptible to taking on other people’s darkness.

I learned that socially distant is NOT THE SAME THING. In-person is much better!!! Therapy is better in person. Church is better. Girl’s nights are better. All the things are better in-person. I pray we get back to that quickly!

Jesus had to ask me “Do you even want to be healed?”as I read through John 5.

Words I kept hearing over and over again were:: Give. Grieve. Pray. Pause.

God set our family apart for hard and holy work.

I learned that in foster care, you are lucky if you have a child’s name and birthday correct when they show up to your house. Plus, shoes are optional -- in fact, most kids show up with absolutely nothing.

God wants so desperately to pick me up and hold me just like I do with my babies.

It is so difficult to tuck in a child you have never met before and feed them breakfast the next morning -- remembering that this is the worst experience of their entire life. Our poor kids come to us completely destroyed.Still, it is harder for them.

Jaxon is not afraid to ask His loving father to give him what he wants. When Jacob says no, he understands and respects that Jacob may have a better understanding of Jaxon’s needs. And every so often, Jacob gets to give Jaxon exactly what he wants and both of them are overjoyed. I need to approach Jesus the same way.

Foster care is too hard. In fact, it might not be for us. We listened to the call. We responded, and loved, and tried our best. But...foster care might still be too hard….and maybe that is okay?

To heal I have to let it hurt, then let it go. Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed, it means the damage no longer controls my life.

I am a rescuer. I want to prevent other people’s pain rather than loving them through it. All this does is hurt me even more. It is time to start rescuing myself.

Where did you see God move this year?

Won’t. He. Do. It. A better question is where didn’t I see God move this year? I saw him grow Jaxon into a child that lives life ministering to his brothers and sisters. I saw God take a seed of Bible in a Year with Radiant Sisters and grow it into a flourishing outreach opportunity. I saw God take Jacob and I to our knees in surrender -- together -- without tearing apart our marriage. I saw God carry me through saying goodbye to children. I saw him heal past relationships that had been damaged and wounds I thought could not be healed. Mostly, I saw Him move in my heart as I learned a lot about what it means to be okay not being okay.

What brought you joy?

All of Jaxon’s “catchphrases.” Our sweet boy should have his own show.

The beauty of Christmas and looking at Christmas lights and “light shows” with my boys.

Daily walks around the neighborhood to see the construction trucks (even in a boot!).

Watching Jaxon develop a fierce love for reading and learning.

Tiger King. I mean come on...it was hilarious:)

Hearing “J” say, “I want Jesus in my heart.”

Our family’s simple but perfect 4th of July experience.

Watching Jaxon become an “all-star brother”

Experiencing my closest friends coming over to celebrate Samuel’s due date with laughter, tears, and ice cream.

Seeing before and after pictures of my hard work and physical changes -- I have reached new lows on the scale and in sizes!

Watching Jaxon play in the rain - with complete freedom and joy.

Fighting for my kids and seeing them get exactly what they need.

Sitting with Jacob in the hopeful calm before the storm waiting for our foster placements to arrive.

Hearing that “L” continues to ask for “that amen thingie” at her new placement.

FInally becoming a therapist and seeing clients and absolutely LOVING what I get to do.

Seeing our family’s Christmas photos and seeing my son adoring his brother.

Knowing that Jaxon knows that Jacob and I love each other deeply.

Water - rain, lakes, imaginary places, beaches, fountains. It all brought me joy. Water is healing, refreshing, and so so cleansing.

Who do you need to thank for helping you make it through this year?

Jesus - you carried me through this year.

Jacob - you did the things when I couldn’t do the things and never complained about it.

My Mom - you have genuinely loved my children, all of them, almost as much as I have.

Amy Payton - you let me cry and grieve with you knowing that I needed that more than anything else.

People who brought supplies, meals, and date nights when we got our foster kiddos - you saved my life this year. I don’t mean that lightly.

Radiant Sisters - you brought me purpose, pride, and hope in ways that I so desperately needed.

My two daughters and my 5 sons - if you all are all I ever know, you are enough. You have each changed me forever.

What is a memory from this past year that you’ll be holding onto forever?

The memory of receiving my “Samuel Jar” full of notes from people who loved our babies.

The way it felt to rock sweet Baby “A” to sleep. I honestly thought I may never hold a sleeping baby again. God reminded me of the beauty of a sleeping infant.

Snuggling with my big kid “T” under the red blanket every single night as he processed exactly what it meant to live with so much trauma.

Hearing his brother “C” talk and seeing him smile for the first time - only to hear the most heartbreaking and humbling words come out of his mouth. This moment will forever change the way I love children. We never truly know what all a child has seen and experienced.

The way it felt to be sitting in the hospital with our kids feeling completely petrified, hopeless, alone, helpless, and utterly terrified. And yet, here we stand. Seeing 2021. Won’t God do it!

Curling “L’s” hair and hearing her say, “I look beautiful. Just like you, Mommy.”

Watching “J” cry tears of joy when he saw that we got him a Santa sack with his name on it. He finally felt like he belonged.

Looking at the love of my life -- absolutely broken -- and telling him “I’m afraid we will never get back to us again.” He then responded with full assurance in Christ “we will.”

The first time I sat in a room with a client. The first time someone trusted me with their story in this way. I will never be the same again.

The moment in my special place with the Lord where he asked me to hold and hug every single one of my kids, tell them goodbye and hand them over to Him. It has provided peace and healing in ways I never knew I needed.

What are you leaving behind in 2020?

Jaxon breaking his arm -- in the middle of quarantine -- with restrictions that he couldn’t play in water…..

Caring what people think -- especially when the person is not someone I hold as an example in my life.

Telling someone “let me know if you need anything.” It just isn’t helpful. I will offer specific and intentional help or I will not. It is that simple.

While we are at it, my ankle and back injuries. Those can stay.

Feeling like my pain and needs are burdens for other people. I need to remember that God is glad to be with me in my pain.

The utter devastation and trauma of saying goodbye to so many kids. Grief and memories can follow me, but anxiety and darkness can stay right where I left them.

White privilege, the concept of being a white savior, and political uncertainty. I want to know what I believe and why -- Not dictated by a party or someone else’s opinion, but by the Word of God.

Living my life in survival mode. Anxious. Afraid. Empty. Numb. Suffocated.

My pathetic and empty prayer life.

The silly belief that I have any power or control at all. I can only control myself -- and sometimes that is even difficult.

Guilt that I am not doing it “right.” No one is doing it right. What even is right? Everyone has an opinion and it is never what your opinion is. Instead, I will seek confession, grace, and freedom rather than guilt, shame, and condemnation.

Waiting for a forever child has been the hardest wait of my entire life. The weight of the wait is oh, so heavy.

My inability to play and have fun. I want to have fun again...I simply don’t know how.

What are you taking with you into 2021?

The healing power of God’s holy kiss.

The reminder that my labor is not in vain. God knows my story from eternity to eternity.

“Don’t let the fear of loving a child who might leave deter you. Let the fear of a child not knowing love drive you.” - Jason Johnson

The ability to let God plan out my life. 2020 required us to adapt in ways we never have before, and we are better for it.

People who are doing it better than I am. I have so much to learn from men and women who are further along than I am in various journies -- there is no reason to feel insecure or inadequate about that truth.

What it feels like to love someone you struggle to like. This kind of love requires laying down your life like Jesus.

The realization that though I feel like a failure, I have been and can continue to be a good mother.

The importance of therapy, saying “no,” and making space for God.

The beauty of water, wind, fire, and earth as images of God.

You cannot love away someone’s pain and you cannot serve and sacrifice your way out of your own privilege.

The reminder that what can be meant for evil against me, God means for good.

Less commitments. Less junk food. Less busyness. Less scheduling issues. Less time in the car. Less distractions. Less idols. Less spending. Less judgment. All the “less” of 2020’s quarantine made room for more. More grace. More family time. More healthy food. More exercise. More intentionality. More solitude. More time with Jesus. More goodness.

Family has nothing to do with blood. In fact, I get to decide who is in my family picture and what that means to me. So freeing!

A humble curiosity to continually grow, learn, and transform.

Hope. Hope that I can return to “myself” again someday. Hope that this is not my final stop. Hope that the God of the universe is in charge and not anything or anyone else.