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There seems to be so much going right now that, for a site like this, determining what to write and/ or discuss can be a daunting task.
Left to my own devices I’d fail miserably at posting anything of lasting relevance or significance – thankfully, I am doing none of this out of my own strength, ability or knowledge; I agreed nearly a year ago at the behest of the King to do this, but stated clearly and up-front, that if He wasn’t in this every step of the way, there would be no point.
God is so faithful. You know that right?
Not only has he been with me every step through this site, but countless personal trials over the years that I could not even begin to number them. True to form, when I inquired as to what I should be writing this week, He answered by bringing forth a flood of memory that speaks directly to His very nature. It is both the events He highlighted as well as the character they speak to that I want to address this week.
After fifteen years of marriage, it had become quite clear to my wife and I that we were not going to conceive. We discussed our options, but decided – at least with regards to fertility treatments – not to pursue the issue further. We had additionally explored the avenue of private adoption but, to be quite frank, something about the whole ordeal didn’t sit quite right. Within a matter of years, we would come to understand why.
Our close friends, in a similar if not identical circumstance, pursued licensing and became foster parents. Although the road was certainly rocky at first, we saw that two things were transpiring simultaneously; children in need were having their needs met – even if only temporarily and; this family was growing. The official adoption of their eldest son prompted once again, a candid discussion between my wife and I. We decided to follow the trail blazed by our friends and became foster parents ourselves.
In 2014, we received our licensing and approval to foster. We were told that we would likely receive calls for placement before the proverbial ink was dry on our license due to a significant need at the time. Sure enough, within a matter of days we had accepted our first placement; a beautiful baby girl. The day that we welcomed this blessing into our home, I told my wife that I somehow knew that she would be leaving us. We had already determined that although temporary placements were not only possible, but a reality in the foster-care system, the needs of the children must come first – we therefore deemed it our honor to watch over this little one, even if only momentarily.
Within a month, we were notified that an extended family member had stepped forward to pursue a kinship placement and take guardianship, so we decided to open our home again and take a second placement… something I reflect on and see the clear-cut hand of divine providence in. You’ll see what I mean shortly.
Within a week, we were graced with a two day old baby boy. This young man had one hell of an uphill battle ahead of him; born addicted to any number of narcotics his mother used while pregnant and a host of other genetic and medical issues. We would spend countless hours day and night trying to soothe the uncontrollable and inconsolable fits he frequently had as he battled through withdrawals.
The most striking and memorable moment for me in all of this however, was the moment his tiny frame was lain in my hands – barely longer than the distance from my palm to my fingertips. At that moment, I heard the all but audible voice of the spirit speak quite plainly:
“This is your son.”
I recall walking into the family room where my baby girl was sprawled out, laying on a blanket. I place my boy directly above her on the floor, head to head when he let out a grunt. She immediately snapped to to see what that was and, as she did, he locked eyes with her – signs of greater things to come…
That Friday, the family member – a cousin of the biological father – came with his wife to collect the baby girl. We talked with them for a good while and offered to help them in any way we could as they were extending themselves significantly in order to make the kinship placement work. Our hearts were breaking, but we also recognized that we were seeing good, kind loving people stepping up to fill a void.
Monday, I received a phone-call from the cousin. He and his wife had spent a long time discussing the situation, which he relayed wasn’t what he’d been told it was. Furthermore, he stated that he and his wife had not felt right taking this girl from us and that it was clear to them that in the now 2 months she’d been with us, she had clearly formed a bond. He stated that, if my wife and I were willing to take her back, he would bring her to us.
Yes. That really happened.
I have often joked with family and friends that no one with a choice asks for two infants simultaneously – let alone having one of them going through withdrawals… but God.
For nearly two years, we grew together as a family. Despite a few procedural hiccups, we finalized adoption on our son and looked forward to doing the same with our daughter. Around this same time-frame another cousin – a female – emerged on the scene and began seeking kinship placement as well. This time however, things would progress very differently.
It was clear to us form the get-go that the agency charged with my daughters’ placement was taking this matter very, very seriously. We were astonished by the very real prospect of losing her again after almost two years of raising her. We were all she’d ever really known and decided to actively seek out legal advice.
After consulting with the attorney who had assisted in finalizing the adoption of our son, she referred us to another attorney – “trust me,” she said, “this is the guy you want”. A very good lawyer and a strong advocate for sanity in the system, this man brought a swift end the immediate threat of removal by plainly arguing the facts before a judge. Little had we known in our years of fostering that, like biological parents, foster parents have legal rights in these cases too… they only strengthen over time.
The case dragged on in a form of limbo for the next two years. It was if the wheels weren’t turning at all, but when they suddenly did, they did so with a lurch in the absolute wrong direction. When the State Agency finally held there staffing, they selected the cousin to be the permanent placement.
We were utterly devastated. There simply are no words.
Of course we contacted our attorney – he was not surprised as he described an ongoing trend he’d been seeing in similar cases he called “family over common sense”. I knew this guy was good and all, but he wasn’t where my hope was resting. As we approached what would be the final hearing to argue against the unjust ruling by the state agency, I was assailing the courts of Heaven. I fasted and prayed constantly. Incessantly.
Two weeks prior to the hearing, I was approached on Shabbat by a dear friend in the faith. He handed me a book by an author I was familiar with – Praying Medic. The book was called “Defeating Your Adversary in the Court of Heaven“. It was a short read – about an hour though, in all honesty, I devoured that book voraciously as soon as I got home.
After finishing the book, I felt tired and decided, as my children were already napping, that I too would lie down for a bit – as I did, I prayed as the book indicated I ought. I thought I was simply going to take a short nap – I had no idea I was about to enter into the Court of Heaven itself.
The room was circular and brilliantly lit and I stood at the center of a sunken circle in the floor. On the dais in front of me I could see twelve, blinding white figures in a half circle overlooking me.
One of the figures, centered among the others, began to grow dimmer and I sensed intuitively that he was “dialing it down for my benefit”. As he dimmed, I could faintly see that he was wearing a striped robe with what I can only describe as crimson and violet… hard to say, it was hard to see. Although I could not make out details, I also knew that this figure was male… and that it wasn’t Yeshua. I’d come to realize later exactly who this was, and moreover why, but that’s another matter.
The dimmed figure spoke:
Your prayers have been heard. Judgement has been rendered in your favor. There will be no need to hear anything further on this matter.
Twenty one days later, we stepped into the courtroom for the last time. Not only was judgement rendered in our favor, but I sat in silent awe as the judge presiding over the case utterly lambasted the case-workers who had pushed this dreadful decision. My daughter was removed from state custody and remanded to my wife and I, pending adoption.
Ten days after that, we stepped into the same courtroom… this time to formalize the adoption of our daughter.
God hears our prayers, He knows our struggles and our needs. His arm has not grown short – He is just. He is mighty to save.
שלום עליכם – Shalom Aleichem – Peace Be Upon You