Prayers In The Doorway

I can never sleep the night before a court hearing. You’d think that after almost 3 years of this with court hearings happening every 60-90 days that I would be accustomed to how all of this feels. I can never shake the anxiety of court though. I usually get up & watch the sunrise as I pray over my sweet foster children. There is something about washing the start of a new day in prayer. It’s something I have done for years now, & I find a lot of strength in it. I think about & pray over the judge, her morning, her cases, will she remember the names of my sweet babies? I ask God to give her the ability to see the truth. Does she yearn for justice in the same way that I do? I pray over the people on our case: the lawyer representing the children, their CASA, their case manager, their biological parents, & their lawyers. Then I will get up & sneak into the kid’s rooms & watch them sleep. I stand in the doorway & pray over their lives. Something unique about becoming a parent through foster care is that you truly are forced to learn to love with your hands & heart open. You go into loving this child knowing that you are not their long-term parent. You go into this love knowing they could leave. You go into this loving knowing that your heart is going to be broken. Like I said, it’s unique but at some point every parent comes to this realization: your child isn’t yours to keep. Anything can happen. That’s why you have to trust in God & love them with reckless abandonment because you never know what is around the corner. I think this is why I get up early & pray. In my own way, I honestly think it is my time to fight with God. I stand in the doorway of their bedrooms watching the fan blow their little curls across their foreheads & I beg God to keep them safe. I cry & ask that they get to stay, even if it is only for a little while longer. I will stand in their doorway & take mental pictures & try to remember how they look peacefully sleeping in their beds. The sounds of their breathing, the quietness & gentleness of their faces as they dream. I try to never picture their beds empty. I try to not let the fear creep in during these mornings. I stand there until it’s time for the day to begin.

Last Wednesday, before JJ headed into court I stood in the doorway & watched the twin’s play with one another. I hope that I will always remember their giggles & coos. As exhausted as I am, I’m thankful that I’ve never been able to sleep on these days. I am grateful that I am able to have this time to pray & sit in the stillness & quiet. It is always the quiet before the storm, & I am thankful for it.

***The day that I wrote this blog post was the day the judge changed the twin’s case plan from “reunification” to “severance & adoption” or “termination of parental rights” (TPR). It was unexpected & sudden. New information came to light and DCS is now actively working to keep the twins safe. Last week, we had court again to set the dates for the trial. The twin’s biological parents did not show up for court. No one knew where they were. The judge had the grounds to terminate their rights on the spot & move the twin’s case to adoption. Sadly, the DCS lawyer didn’t have the paperwork turned in for the twin’s case so, we wait. We have court again in August. We are heartbroken that their parents never showed up. We are heartbroken that the lawyer didn’t do the paperwork. It’s frustrating to be waiting again. I am tired of watching the system fail the children I love & fight hard for. If their parents do show up in August then a trial will be set. They usually take about 4 months to schedule a trial. Right now in Arizona an adoption takes about 6 months, assuming the biological parents don’t appeal the judge’s decision. It could be another year before things are said & done & honestly, a lot can happen between now & then. We are not at the “adoption” stage of this process yet. The judge still has to terminate parental rights and then the adoption process can begin. This is an example of just how long the process takes even in a situation where the biological parents have all but given up, the wheels of the system turn at a very slow pace. And the trajectory of someone’s life can be halted by something as simple as paperwork. This is why we share our story: to advocate & encourage others to help & talk to those who can effect real change.