The Making of M.O.M.

On Monday we head back to court for Baby D. I cannot describe to you how ready I am to be there. Normally, court dates make me a nervous wreck. In fact, I usually dread court so much that I have trouble sleeping the few days beforehand. This time will be different. Although I'm sure my nerves will be a hoppin' on the drive there, I feel so confident about Monday's hearing.

Let me show you why. Here is Baby D's birth parents visitation record since February 1st, 2009. They are suppose to have one 2 hour visit a week. (It used to be two 2 hour visits a week, but since they canceled the majority of visits in January, DSS dropped them down to one visit a week. Clearly they were not phased.)

Feb 6th - had a visit. The Baby D's social worker "dropped" in (they are supervised by a different social worker, who is there the entire time) and found out that the birth parents had gotten 2 pet rabbits. Said rabbits were ON THE FLOOR LOOSE with my baby. They were given a voucher for a drug screening, but they never took the tests.

Feb 13th - canceled the visit because birth dad was sick
Feb 20th - canceled the visit because birth dad sick
Feb 27th - canceled the visit because birth mom was sick
March 6th - canceled the visit to "run errands"
March 13th - canceled the visit because of an "appointment"

In January, they saw him twice. They canceled all of the other visits because of sickness as well.

Also, neither of the birth parents have done ANYTHING in their case plan since November.

Before I begin my rant: Our good friends The Hauts will be in court with us on Monday for their case with their foster son who is 3 days older than Baby D. If you're in the prayin' mood, offer one up for them as well. If you just clicked on that link and realized that their blog is private, check out this post as to how you can get access. It's worth the effort, I promise.

So you see, I'm not all that stressed about court on Monday. Clearly, any judge that would NOT begin terminating their rights should be de-robed (Is that what you do? Maybe de-benched? Oh, you know what I mean.) I am doubting that the birth parents will even show up for court. However, it's the what if they show up that haunts me.

I just don't know how to interact with these people. I don't know how to stand there and pretend that I'm not completely ticked at them. I don't know how to love them. I don't want to know how to love them. They have NO CLUE that their son is crawling. They don't know how precious his new 2 toothed grin is because they have no clue that he even has two teeth. They've never spent a night holding him, rocking him and comforting him because he was sick or teething.

On top of all of those emotions, I am also ticked that they had the audacity to claim him on their taxes. Oh yeah...I'm not kidding. Luke and I have had to mail in a hard copy of our tax return WITH an appeal letter because these people thought it was a good idea to claim the child that they do not have in their home nor are they making efforts towards regainig.

Is it wrong of me to pray that they go to jail for tax fraud? It is? Crap, that's what I thought.

Basically, I know that I'm suppose to be all "love them like Jesus would love them" but the truth is, I don't wanna. I want them to suffer. I want them to hurt. I want them to understand just how much pain they will one day cause my son when he has to face the truth of their neglect. I don't want to pray for God to give me the ability to love them. I don't want to see their faces at all.

In fact, if I never see them again I'm okay.

But the truth is, I know that I'm not any better than they are. When I yelled at Ashlee today because she was taking so friggin' long to put on her pants, I sinned.

When I lost it with Baby Girl tonight because she would-not-stop-crying, I sinned.

When I allowed inappropriate words to dance through my head and then I uttered them under my breath, I sinned.

When I got ticked at Luke for no good reason then I allowed myself to stay ticked, I sinned.

I'm as hopeless as they are. I too deserve the hurt, the pain. I deserve to suffer.

I wish I could type out some eloquent prayer about how I want my heart to be transformed, but if I did I would be a hypocrite. I cannot sit here and pretend that I want my heart to change toward them because I don't. I cannot sit here and pray a prayer that is not real. I can't fake it and I won't. Although my mind knows that this is so, so selfish my heart isn't on board. My heart wants retaliation. My heart wants justice.

So this weekend, I will choose to busy myself with all things aside from prayerful mediation. I will choose to clean my house, wash dishes, wipe stinky butts and comfort crying kids. I will hang out with friends, laugh at my children and cuddle with my husband. My mind knows that I should be prayerfully anticipating Monday, but my heart refuses to follow. So, if you think of it and you feel led, pray for this heart of mine. It's full of anger and hurt and just a nastiness that I cannot shake. And while these feelings themselves are not entirely sinful, the refusal to lay them aside and ask my Lord for help...well, that is.

So there it is, my real emotion. The raw me. My real "totally ticked" heart is asking you NOT to pray for it. It's stupid and wrong and totally sinful but I mean really, you didn't think I was perfect anyway, now did you?

Maybe you've noticed that my blogs lately have been a little superficial. Well, not today folks. I found a blog and I have to tell you that because of this post and a podcast sermon from this pastor I've been shaken up a little. Both dealt with authenticity. Both made me question why I believe what I believe and why I do what I do.

Let me start with the blog. I found this blog through a tweet. As I read her words, I clicked on another post that she had posted formerly (that first link up there). In that post, Lindsay the blog author said...

Because let's be honest. To be involved in church and call yourself a Christian in this day and age puts an awful lot of pressure on you to portray yourself as a perfect person. You shouldn't wear too much makeup. You shouldn't go to a bar and have martinis. You shouldn't curse. Your blog had better not have a tacky word in the header like ass; it should have hearts and flowers and blinkies on it, and Bible verses in the sidebar. You get major bonus points for living frugally and homeschooling and banning all radio in your house and car except the local Christian music station.

Ouch! Is that me? Am I this woman she is speaking of? I would hope that those of you who know me personally know how incredibly flawed I am. Those of you who see me, speak to me and really know me, well, you know that the imperfections follow me like a pile of stank. But what about others? What about the people who haphazardly come across my blog or meet me in public? Do they see me as fake? Am I less authentic with them because they just get a snapshot of my life?

Yes, I have Bible verses in my sidebar and even in my header. Yes, we homeschool our kids. Yes, I only listen to Christian music. I hardly ever wear make up and I try VERY hard not to use profanity. But "pressure to portray myself as perfect"? Hardly.

Do you want to know why I do the things I do? I hope so, because I'm going to tell you.

Do you want to know what drives me to put Bible verses on my sidebar and in my header? Because I'M SO FREAKIN' LOST. I seriously have no clue. I need constant reminders of what I am suppose to be striving for. I need the everyday glance at something that might, hopefully, ressonate within me, causing me to stop and remember my God. I need those Bible verses. Trust me, they are not there for YOUR benefit.

Do you want to know why I homeschool my kids? Although I am finding more and more reasons, the biggest is this: I'm a control freak by nature. When I taught public school, I always thought that all the other kids would have done better if they'd have been in my class. Egotistical much? Geesh. I don't think that anyone else could possibly educate my kids better than me. Not that I think I'm the smartest person alive, but I mean, I DO have a degree in Education. If the state says I'm good enough to educate kids, then why not just teach my own. And hey, at least if I screw them up I only have myself to blame.

Profanity? This is an ongoing battle for me. I am getting better, but I still have my days. And that doesn't mean that the words still don't come into my mind, I'm just better at controlling them. The reason I try not to curse? Because if I truly have a spirit living in me that is holy and blameless, how can I even attempt to portray that with f-bombs flying out and obliterating everything around them?

Why do I only listen to Christian music? Because it's all I can listen to. No, my car radio is not stuck on KLOVE. A friend of mine once said, "Songs remind me of people and times in my life...sort of like a soundtrack to my life."

I couldn't agree more. Music evokes emotion with in me. If I hear a song about being in love, I suddenly feel more love for my husband. If I hear a song about children and growing up, I cry thinking about my kids being grown. If I hear a song that takes me back to my college days, I remember the guy I was with, the way I felt about him and how hurt I was when he broke my heart. Those thoughts lead to other thoughts and eventually I am headed down a path that does not support strengthening my marriage...if you catch my drift. For me, music = memories. Some of those memories are safe, others are not. Because of the poor choices I made prior to my relationship with Luke, I cannot take the chance that I might hear a song and think of another man. My heart is not yet able and I doubt it will ever be.

Bars? Martinis? Personally I think that bars reek of cigarette smoke and I don't like martinis.

Too much makeup? Who has time for makeup? I'm lucky to shower everyday.

Lindsay said that women who seem to do/don't do all of these things fit into a "sorority", a sunny one. Please don't misunderstand, I'm not angry at Lindsay. In fact, I totally understand where she's coming from. I think her point is that sometimes, Christians seem less that totally authentic. Which takes me back to my original thought.

Am I authentic? Am I transparent? Do other people think that I am attempting to appear blameless and perfect because I claim to have Jesus?

I am not perfect and I pray that I am authentic. The truth is, because I am flawed and imperfect, it is exactly why I need Jesus, why I need him desperately. It is because of those times in my life when I was a free-spirited floozie and the days where f-bombs control my mind that I need Him so dramatically now.

I choose to surround myself with scripture, Christian music and other Christians not so that I can mask what I truly am, but so that I can strive for what I'll never be.

I can never claim righteousness because it is a quality that I will never hold. I pray that through my life and this blog that everyone would not see a woman who is faking perfection, but a broken girl, who wants so desperately to be seen as remarkable woman because of the One who holds her up and encompasses all perfection.