News from the Ashers!
I need to start with an update about our gorgeous girl. She's fantastic and we are getting along so well! The Asher family is all around fantastic - the dogs ADORE their new sister, Ryan and I are
smitten and she fits with us all like a glove. More on all that is to come - I promise!! Life has just been too good to take a break and write!
What I need to talk about in this blog is an update from one our other kids. I was certain that I would never hear from my 18 year old runaway ever again. I got updates from her case workers and others on how she was doing. Occasionally I stalked her social media accounts to check on her (and worry a whole lot more). Then, the day came that my heart ripped apart in my chest. Her mugshot. Right there taking up the screen on my computer. Multiple felony charges. Statistically, there was a very high chance this would happen. I already knew she was transient. Over 85% of kids who age out of the foster care system are incarcerated or homeless within 16 months... she was both in less than 4. It was my worst nightmare. I cried. I screamed. I was angry, sad and lost. I internalized the whole thing and focused on my failures. What I should have done and said. I wanted to go and see her in holding. I wanted to go to her hearing. I wanted to tell her that things would be okay. I wanted to defend her and plead with the judge for mercy. I wanted to yell at her and tell her how her decisions were completely crazy and how she had every opportunity to be anything she wanted and threw it all away. At the same time I prayed that the Judge would let her off, I prayed that he would give her 10 years.
I called people I hoped were in touch with her trying to find out how she was doing. I tried to get information about what was going on. I considered putting money on her commissary. I thought about going to see her. I got tired of people saying this might be exactly what she needed. I got frustrated hearing that sometimes you have to hit rock bottom.
Then, on one of the recent snow days, I walked down the driveway in my PJ's looking for a reason to get out of the house for a minute and got the mail (it had been accumulating for a few days). I tossed it on my desk and made lunch. Later in the afternoon I went through it, taking time to pay bills and shred junk. I was left with one envelope. Covered in drawings of all our favorite things. Milkshakes, mascara, hamburgers, dog paws with the dog's initials in them and a return address... with her name and inmate number.
Inside was page after page. A journal of everything that had happened since her 18th birthday. The hell she had been living through and culminating in the terrible choices landing her in jail. She talked about the program she's working and how she plans to graduate high school. She explained why she felt like she needed to take off. How much she misses us. Everything she worries about and wonders about. She made jokes about how I could be proud she's not (yet) pregnant and not to spend too long correcting her grammar. She was honest about her greatest fears and stubborn enough not to admit that we were right while saying "but, you weren't wrong about much."
She hadn't planned to mail the letter she said, but at the very end it said she went to chapel and they were playing the worship song "Oceans" - she remembered me singing it and felt like it was God's way of nudging her to mail it. Yeah, however hard you are imagining I cried, double it.
I wrote back immediately. Telling her all about work, the dogs and Ryan. Letting her know that we took another placement but still miss her like crazy. I asked her if I could come and see her and if they would let me bring her oreos. I don't know what will happen. I don't know what our relationship will be in the future. I do know that I love her more than I could ever explain and that I pray for her constantly. This is not the way I wanted to hear from her and not what I wanted for her life, but I am learning to trust that God has a plan and that we are remaining faithful.
I know that the kids that have come through our home are special. They are amazing. They are talented and resilient and have huge potential. They are broken, damaged and hurt. We can never make up for any of the things they have been through and we can't right the wrongs they have experienced. But, we will love them forever. Pray for them forever. Root for them forever.
I need to start with an update about our gorgeous girl. She's fantastic and we are getting along so well! The Asher family is all around fantastic - the dogs ADORE their new sister, Ryan and I are
smitten and she fits with us all like a glove. More on all that is to come - I promise!! Life has just been too good to take a break and write!
What I need to talk about in this blog is an update from one our other kids. I was certain that I would never hear from my 18 year old runaway ever again. I got updates from her case workers and others on how she was doing. Occasionally I stalked her social media accounts to check on her (and worry a whole lot more). Then, the day came that my heart ripped apart in my chest. Her mugshot. Right there taking up the screen on my computer. Multiple felony charges. Statistically, there was a very high chance this would happen. I already knew she was transient. Over 85% of kids who age out of the foster care system are incarcerated or homeless within 16 months... she was both in less than 4. It was my worst nightmare. I cried. I screamed. I was angry, sad and lost. I internalized the whole thing and focused on my failures. What I should have done and said. I wanted to go and see her in holding. I wanted to go to her hearing. I wanted to tell her that things would be okay. I wanted to defend her and plead with the judge for mercy. I wanted to yell at her and tell her how her decisions were completely crazy and how she had every opportunity to be anything she wanted and threw it all away. At the same time I prayed that the Judge would let her off, I prayed that he would give her 10 years.
I called people I hoped were in touch with her trying to find out how she was doing. I tried to get information about what was going on. I considered putting money on her commissary. I thought about going to see her. I got tired of people saying this might be exactly what she needed. I got frustrated hearing that sometimes you have to hit rock bottom.
Then, on one of the recent snow days, I walked down the driveway in my PJ's looking for a reason to get out of the house for a minute and got the mail (it had been accumulating for a few days). I tossed it on my desk and made lunch. Later in the afternoon I went through it, taking time to pay bills and shred junk. I was left with one envelope. Covered in drawings of all our favorite things. Milkshakes, mascara, hamburgers, dog paws with the dog's initials in them and a return address... with her name and inmate number.
Inside was page after page. A journal of everything that had happened since her 18th birthday. The hell she had been living through and culminating in the terrible choices landing her in jail. She talked about the program she's working and how she plans to graduate high school. She explained why she felt like she needed to take off. How much she misses us. Everything she worries about and wonders about. She made jokes about how I could be proud she's not (yet) pregnant and not to spend too long correcting her grammar. She was honest about her greatest fears and stubborn enough not to admit that we were right while saying "but, you weren't wrong about much."
She hadn't planned to mail the letter she said, but at the very end it said she went to chapel and they were playing the worship song "Oceans" - she remembered me singing it and felt like it was God's way of nudging her to mail it. Yeah, however hard you are imagining I cried, double it.
I wrote back immediately. Telling her all about work, the dogs and Ryan. Letting her know that we took another placement but still miss her like crazy. I asked her if I could come and see her and if they would let me bring her oreos. I don't know what will happen. I don't know what our relationship will be in the future. I do know that I love her more than I could ever explain and that I pray for her constantly. This is not the way I wanted to hear from her and not what I wanted for her life, but I am learning to trust that God has a plan and that we are remaining faithful.
I know that the kids that have come through our home are special. They are amazing. They are talented and resilient and have huge potential. They are broken, damaged and hurt. We can never make up for any of the things they have been through and we can't right the wrongs they have experienced. But, we will love them forever. Pray for them forever. Root for them forever.


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