Burdens and Questions

Foster kid #1 left 2 months ago.  She decided that living with friends would be better because things are never going to change here.

I wasn't really sad about this decision.  It is very difficult to have a person in the home who is only a contributing member of the family when it is fun and convenient.  It is hard to watch your entire household be stirred up in contention.  It is hard to watch your family members fend off a persuasive personality that leads them to physical and spiritual danger.  It is hard to decipher half-truths and try to be loyal to a liar.  It is hard to watch someone refuse to do any work, take any advice, seek any help in getting the physical and emotional health answers that they need.  It is hard to watch someone be directionless.  It is hard to feel that your home, family, and possession are not secure.  It is hard to watch the fall-out when you finally, FINALLY tell that person that if they aren't going to accept the help being offered and be willing to work, then they need to leave.

But I am a healthy, fully-functioning adult.  She is an emotionally unstable teenager who's been through hell in her young life.  I feel like my inability to find any empathy makes me a much worse person than the lying idler.  How do I find the ability to love those who can't reciprocate that in even the smallest way? 

Foster kid #2 left last night.  She decided that living with her mom would be better because things are never going to change here.

Among her list of sudden grievances....

We don't give her any freedom.
We don't treat her like the 18 year old adult that she is.
We forced her to go to school.
We have plans for her for college but have never listened to what she wants to do.
We ask too many questions.
We bad-mouth her mom.

She complains on the regular, like all teenagers do.  But what happened this week to cause such a turn-around?  Is she being stirred up by her friends and family?  Or is sin making her uncomfortable in a place where the Spirit dwells?  Does it matter?  Because all of her complaints are true...at least semantically.

We have a curfew for being in the house.  We require a chore to be done each day, a larger chore on Saturday.  We ask that they clean their rooms every Saturday.  We set time limits on technological devices and require them to be turned in at night.

We don't view a high school senior as quite an adult.  Especially one that has literally never had any freedom and is now navigating the treacherous waters of friends, school, technology, and decision-making.

We spent the entire summer building up the idea of high school, including the options that being a high-school graduate opens up to a person, especially if that person is the first high school graduate in their family.  Breaking a cycle seemed pretty important.  We talked about college admission requirements that go unfulfilled by continuation high schools.  We talked about the football games, the dances, the pranks, and the memories.

We require the college admission tests to be taken and that colleges options be studied out.  We require a plan.

We stay involved by knowing where they are going and who they are with.  We meet the friends.  We have interviews and informal chats.  We rely on the Spirit to guide us to topics that they need to discuss or learn about--even if those topics are uncomfortable.

We want to bring to light destructive habits or ideas, so that the next generation doesn't repeat mistakes.

But instead of defending our actions, I just feel sad.  This foster-parenting thing has been a burden, for sure.  And I maybe allowed myself a little sigh of relief when the decision was made.  But, like most burdens, when they are finally gone, I can see clearly.

Maybe the burden was made light at times and I forgot to express gratitude.

Maybe I didn't learn what I needed to from the burden.

Maybe I made all the wrong choices.  Handled the situation with too little patience and too little reliance on time and perspective and Heavenly Father's timing and perspective.

Maybe I'm too worried about what people will say and what versions of truths will be shared.

Maybe I'm doomed to repeat this cycle again and again until I've lost all my children.  That's the hardest part.  Am I a horrible parent? Am I too controlling?  Am I forcing them to obey instead of letting them make their own mistakes?  But how will those mistakes affect the family?  Where do I go from here?  What amends should be made?  What warnings should still be issued?  Do I cut all ties and involvement?  And how do I answer all these questions in the context of my saving and strengthening my marriage and my family?

While I've waited for the relief of this day, all I'm left with are so many, many questions.

But isn't that life?

I'm so glad no one reads blogs any more. :)