The phone call came at about 4PM on a Thursday in May 1997.  I watched my kids playing downstairs as I heard my foster daughter’s caseworker tell me that her parents had agreed to give Grandma custody of her the next day.  Court was at 10 AM. I was told to pack her clothes. She’d be picked up for transfer right after court.

First, a wave of shock hit. I had already adopted two boys, and this little girl had been in my home for about two years. I had hoped I could adopt her too. Her one -year-old half-brother slept in a crib in their shared room. 

I called my attorney and was told that the courts frowned on attorneys attending these types of proceedings, so she wouldn’t go with me. I was on my own, and as it stood, even I wasn’t invited to attend.

I called my friends and got some prayers going up for wisdom.  I remember thinking, “God, I don’t know what’s going on, but You do. I trust You.” 

The next day my boyfriend (later my husband) came to the courthouse to support me.

I met Grandma who was seeking custody. She wasn’t interested in raising her grandson, so I brought her only photos of her granddaughter.

When Mom arrived, I approached and gave her photos of both children. She seemed nervous.  As I sat on the bench in the hallway the caseworker came around the corner; he looked surprised to see me. I asked him who the legal guardian was for my foster daughter. He pointed her out and when he left, she and I talked.  I told her that I was concerned about splitting up the kids. She only had the one case file and didn’t know about the brother. She agreed that they shouldn’t be separated. Then asked me if I was interested in adoption. I told her yes, I wanted to adopt both if possible. She bluntly told me to speak up in the court room and to tell the judge that.

When I explained that I wasn’t invited to the proceeding and didn’t think I’d even get a chance to talk. She repeated, “You MUST speak up in court.”

Moments later we were all ushered into the court room. I stood on one side of the caseworker and Grandma was on the other.  Mom stood on the other side of the room, as we all faced the judge. The legal guardian was closer and perpendicular to the judge. She had the ability to see everyone from her vantage point.

The judge acknowledged everyone by name except me, but without looking up he did mention that foster mom was here. He then asked for Dad to be brought in. Dad entered with two police escorts, shackled hand and foot. He took his place between Mom and Grandma.  The judge light heartedly quipped, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I silently prayed while things progressed. The stenographer typed away as information was tossed about. Then Grandma hesitated. She wouldn’t give her address. He asked her a second time.  Grandma said her daughter had stolen from her and didn’t want her to know where she lived. Then Grandma and Mom began yelling. Mom and Dad began to argue. More policemen poured into the room.

The chaos was reminiscent of a comedy show, only the room crackled with hostility. The judge banged his gavel again and again yelling over the crowd, “Order in the court.” Finally, when he could be heard, he said, “I don’t like this stuff in my courtroom, and I don’t have to take it. In fact, I’m not going to tolerate it. Case dismissed. Everybody out!”

As I followed the murmuring crowd into the hallway, there Dad stood alone with his two guards. I asked if I might talk to him. I explained to him who I was and how wonderful his little girl was. I apologized that I had no pictures with me to share. He gave me his name, and I promised to send him some.

Six months later an order to terminate parental rights came through for both kids. This time we, my new husband and I, met Dad at the proceedings. (Mom didn’t show.) The letters and photos I sent helped him to release his little girl into our life-long care. He signed the paperwork with tears in his eyes.

Today both that little girl and her brother bear our last name. The blessing of my children greatly outweighs the challenges of the struggle that day. Even little ol’ me can stand up against the giant of the unknown and through prayer receive the victory!

Foster-care was indeed a rich blessing for me, and it is still a vital need in our community. It’s not an easy path, but there’s so much love. I’d encourage you to pray and investigate this option if you’re looking to expand your family. Thanks for listening.

Blessings,

~Debbie G

#FostercareStory #ChooseAdoption #ChooseToLove

Small beginnings, it’s a great way to learn. I started this webpage years ago, long before I began speaking to groups. I was a busy working mom, and it was a good outlet for my contemplations.

Now I’m learning the skills needed to post videoblogs. Just like little ones learning to walk, it’s a learning process, but I will soon gain speed.

Hope you’ll head over on the video tab and watch my newest video; I call it ‘The Art of Walking.”

So glad you checked in.

Blessings,

~Debbie G

#LittleStepsBigChange #changingpatterns #learningtolean

In today’s vernacular it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted anything. I moved twice in seven weeks this summer… does that earn me a bit of grace?

Honestly, being back in full swing in my writing chair has been utmost in my heart, but precious time with family and other obligations needed to be balanced in. So here I am, late-February a bit rusty, but eager to connect again.

I’ve got much on my mind, but with so many changes I thought I’d start with that topic. New beginnings… not a ‘do over,’ as much as it is adjusting to a new space, new neighbors and honestly, not knowing where a lot of your household items are anymore.

After selling my house, I tried apartment life for a bit. But after a year and a half, I’m in a new house. Do you know what the key feature was that I was looking for in a house? Could I fit my large family inside this house for holidays? Yup, it was family.

I ended up in a new area, not too far from friends, where I could still meet weekly with my lady study partners. And honestly, I was surprised that within 2 months I have 4 new neighbors joining us each week as well.

There was not a lot of planning on my part, but certainly I’ve been brought here for a reason. And it’ll be exciting to watch these friendships unfold in my comfortable little corner of the world.

I guess my takeaway is: that even when life hits a bit of turbulence, we may discover a blessing as the waves settle. Lots of hard work and walking through an open door lead me here and I feel blessed already! I hope you have some exciting plans on the horizon too!

Be blessed and be a blessing!

~Debbie G

#hotminute #WelcometotheNeighborhood #FromBumpsToBlessings

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
 in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6

I’m not sure why my husband bought me teddy bears, but he did. One little guy was white and looked quite grand in his black sequined vest. He clutched a heart shaped pillow, embroidered with the word ‘love’, between his hanging paws. Teddy lived in a house full of kids, and eventually both paws fell free. I could have reattached the pillow, but I never did. It was a choice I made.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t come with a ‘do-over’ button. And choices have consequences. Looking back, you may wish you had chosen differently, and often the best we can do is learn from the past. When the change is beyond our control, sometimes it means shifting gears. In driving, it is a one-step process, you’re already moving, and the goal is to smoothly increase or decrease speed. But life transitions take time, especially when faced with unexpected heartache.

Honestly, when I lost my husband after a five-week illness, I told God that I wasn’t interested- NOPE, change that… I told God I would follow Him anywhere, but please NO more marriage for me. Don’t read anything into this about the state of my marriage. It was wonderful, God-honoring and I was richly blessed in our years together.

Suffering loss after a long illness drains you emotionally. Death is always difficult, but the repeated waves of rising hope followed by difficult news is exhausting. You fight emotions, people’s well-intentioned comments, and often lose the battle and begin playing the game of ‘What If.’

Then comes loss. It’s a fifth gear slam to full stop. Emergency brake applied! For me, there was no brain connection at this stage. Very little computes. Nothing in life to compare this to. Call it brain fog. The only way forward is shifting into neutral, and to let others push you though.

 Healing? Oh healing… ever seen a someone learning to drive a manual transmission? Spits and sputters, and constant engine stalls. Eventually getting the rhythm of depressing the clutch in unison with moving the shifting knob.

In my loss, my heart was like that teddy bear, my hands now hung loosely. There was no repair for a missing heart. We both simply had to learn to live without it.

 I believe my comment to God about not wanting another marriage was because I needed to decompress. To relearn how to live solo again. Eventually I got my engine running smoothly again. Now it was my schedule. My plans. My comfort level. 

The last time my pastor had mentioned how good his marriage was during a sermon; I silently reminded God, “That’s good for him, Lord, but not for me.”

When I heard this reply, “But what if it’s not about you. What if he needs you to complete the work I’m calling him to do?”

Man, did that bring my refusal to the forefront. In essence, God was saying, ‘I want you to be willing to go where I desire you to go’. It only took a few moments for me to agree to ‘be willing’ to do what He called me to do. Not that I believe that God was indeed bringing me marriage, He just wanted me to be willing. To yield to His plan for me.

So for the past year I’ve mostly been running from any interaction with men. Avoiding eye contact. Clinging to my comfort levels and disappearing anytime I feel the possibility of a connection. Yikes! I wasn’t very honest in my agreement to be willing, was I?

Last week I confessed to my study group my hesitation and my new commitment to not run the other way anymore. Being willing to engage in a conversation was a good first step, right?

 Two days later at a gathering, I sat at a table with a couple I knew. A few of their acquaintances joined us and soon after one man, about 15 years my senior, asked me if I was married. It was like being hit with a spotlight. I spluttered that I was a widow.

After expressing his condolences he asked, “Would you like to get married.” I think I physically gulped. Then I lied! I told him I hadn’t really thought about it. I followed that by saying that I was happy in the state that I was currently in. And as soon as was most naturally possible and in my ‘running away’ fashion, I removed myself from the table and I didn’t return.

Yes, Teddy now has a comfortably running engine with what appears to be empty hands. But he also knows that the Good-Gift-Giver has never failed, and His hands are always open. Teddy has filled his days with adventure, his arms with the people he loves, and is open to conversation on most subjects!

How’s your engine running, friends?

~Debbie G

#shiftingGears #soloAdventures #willingtobewilling #teddybearheart

Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13:7

Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life. Psalm 143:8b