Orphans & Foster Care Resources

I don't think I've ever been this tired in my life. It is Christmas Day at 7:30 pm and I am done. Done. Done. Done. Christmas is so hard on these kids. There are so many Christmases past that bring about anything but fond memories of family and friends. My kids are stressed out and wound up. They are acting as though they've forgotten everything we've taught them. Z is new here and is so off course. Sometimes I get so frustrated at their choices and saddened by their lack of concern for others. I feel as though I've reached my limit and I'm so, so tired. The worst part is that most of this truly isn't their fault. Do you remember being able to process emotion and trauma at age 9 or 12? They have so many adult experiences and so little ability to process those experiences.

I am so relieved that Christmas is over. The boys had such a hard time coping with the past shooting right to the surface and overtaking their thoughts. They really gave us a run for our money for a while there. Now we are settling into our new routine. The boys are back in public school for the time being, allowing me a much needed break from wearing so many hats in their lives. It is such a relief to be able to be just their mom and not have to be their teacher and their friend and their therapist 24/7. They are enjoying their new schools and are adjusting fairly well. T tested at grade level in writing this week and I couldn't have been prouder. Last year at this time T could hardly write a complete sentence and what he did write, you couldn't read.

The other morning in our Sunday morning worship service a guest speaker provided the following statistic.  He stated that only 14% of Evangelical Christians view outreach to HIV/AIDS victims (including AIDS Orphans) in Africa as something the local (e.g. American neighborhood church) should be actively involved in.  This means that child sponsorships, short-term mission efforts, long-term missionary investment, medical relief and more are considered outside the purview of the Church’s responsibility for the other 86%. 

Michael sits in the closet.  He hears the screams, the crying, each blow that lands on her.  He cries along with her because he doesn't know of anything else to do.  Finally, after what seems like hours, a door slams.  Michael hears her call him, "It's okay, sweetie.  You can come out now."  He cautiously steps out of the closet.  His mother has a black eye.  Her lips is busted.  She smiles through her tears and tells him he can go to bed now.  It's over.  For now.