Weeks passed and we didn’t hear anything. Then, on August 19, I drove my mom and younger brother to the airport to go and visit my sister who was about to have twins in Florida. I stayed in Utah for that entire week, and hoped and prayed that we would hear from the foster care people while I was home.
It was a really good week to be home anyway. For one thing, Siff was in heat again, so it was nice that she wasn’t outside all day. For another, the foster care lady finally contacted us again and met with us on that Friday, the day before I was supposed to head back to Idaho.
It wasn’t good news. She told us that based upon Grig’s mental health evaluation (that he was asked to have because of trauma in his childhood), that they were going to deny our application. The frustrating thing is that no one will tell us what was the deciding factor during the mental health evaluation. The doctor told Grig that he’d have to ask the foster people, and the foster care people told us that the doctor would have to discuss it with us. So, we’re still a bit in the dark and it's been over a month since we received this news.
That was a pretty hard news to take. I was disappointed, but I knew I couldn’t let myself be too disappointed for Grig’s sake. I knew he already was blaming himself, and if I broke down about it, it would make his guilt worse. Besides, I married Grig, and he comes before everything. I wouldn’t change him, and I’m grateful for who he is. He is a wonderful father and husband, and I mostly feel bad because I know we could supply a safe haven to troubled children, and we're not going to be able to help.
However, I also know the Lord has a plan, but sometimes it’s hard to be patient and have faith. I’m sort of confused about some of the things that happened that made it seem like foster care was going to work out, like the cribs and extra beds that we were given.
We were told that we either need to withdraw our application or appeal the decision, but until we get the report from the doctor, we don’t know which course to take. We still haven’t been able to get a solid word from anyone.
Sometimes I get really sad, because I thought this was going to be the answer to our quest for a larger family, and the emptiness of a solo voice in our home occasionally breaks my heart. I am SO grateful for Kevin, but I also ache for him. He’ll never know what it’s like to have a close sibling and to grow up with a best friend near his same age. Sometimes, going home to visit my family hurts, because the memories come, and I know that Kevin will never have the childhood that I had; the childhood that I want for him.
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| At least he has the dogs, and they love him. |
This current trial reminds me of two experiences that when I think of them bring me a lot of hope.
One was on the mission I served for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Right after my trainer left me, I began training new Sister missionaries. I trained two new Sisters, and I thought that was my calling on the mission. I loved being a trainer. It helped me be a better missionary, because I had to be a good example for those I was training.
Then, after my second trainee, I was transferred to a new Sister, who had been in the mission basically as long as I had. I thought that I was being punished because I had been a bad trainer and the Lord no longer trusted me. For the first week with my new companion, I kept going over my time and wondering what I had done wrong. I felt awful, and I beat myself up about it.
However, that Sister became one of my best friends in the whole world. I am so grateful the Lord let me have the time that I did with her and didn’t give me what I thought I wanted. She changed my life, and the Lord knew exactly what I needed.
The other experience is more recent. Two years ago, after Dakota our older dog died, we found a Norwegian Elkhound puppy for sale. It was expensive, but it was the breed that Grig had always wanted us to get. We prayed about whether we should buy it, and we received a very conditional answer that if Grig got a raise at work, that we should get the puppy.
Well, time went on, and the puppy approached the age where it could leave its mother. However, Grig hadn't gotten the raise. Things kept happening that made us positive that we were getting a puppy, but we kept waiting on the raise. Finally, on a Saturday after the puppy was over 8 weeks, we told the kid who owned the pup that we would meet with him the next Monday. That Sunday, he sold the pup to someone else.
We were heartbroken. We had felt so strongly that we were supposed to get this puppy, and we couldn’t believe that we had lost it.
However, as I left the church that night, I thought, the Lord made us a promise, and he doesn’t break his promises. If this puppy is gone, He will provide another one for us.
The next morning, I looked online and was thrilled to discover that someone had just posted another litter of elkhound puppies. They were from a more reputable breeder and were far less expensive than the puppy we had initially been trying to get.
