Erin...

Recently the decision was made that one of our girls from Cottage 3 should go home to her family where she can apply for foster care that will better meet the needs that she has that we can not attend to as a basic care facility. Even though we are not in C3 any longer we still consider those girls "ours" and this was very hard on me to see her go. But the Lord has given me a peace that even in the same way He almost miraculously it seems has provided for us, keeping us here, He also will provide for her as she leaves. This is no surprise to Him, after all, and He will continue to work for the good in her life, I know.

She and I had dreamed together, however, of Senior Night, a tradition on campus where our graduating seniors are honored with a slide show and a speech from a teaching parent about their time here at Boys and Girls Country. Since she has gone home early and will not be here in a few years when she graduates, I have decided that I will write her speech that I would have given here, instead, as I feel that everything I would have written then has already come true.

My Dearest Erin, "Taylor Tot".

You stand here a very different young lady indeed from that little girl who came to BGC all those years ago. And truth be told, I am very different, too! You are much the reason for my change, because you, sweet girl, taught me what it truly means to be a mother.

I was so scared to take over Cottage 3 when they first asked us. I had so many questions. Would I be able to manage all the stress of having a cottage of my own? Could I keep up with all the demands? Did I have what it takes to be a teaching parent mom to a cottage full of children?

I had gone to church with you girls and as I stood there at the benediction, half singing, half praying and pouring my fears out to the Lord, all of the sudden something happened so great that I actually recorded it in a blog way back then when I first met you.

I wrote,

" And just as this sight of her (you) sitting there singing beside me awoke me from where I  had been praying, the worship leader said,

"Take the person's hand to your left and pray for them. Pray that God will do a miracle in their life so awesome that you can't even imagine it." 

For three days I had tried to find the courage to pray that.

To even dare to pray it would have meant that it was possible and even scarier still that I might be asked to be a part of it.  

But I prayed it and I squeezed [your] hand in mine, and [you] laid [your)]head over onto my shoulder.

And I wept."

And in that moment the Lord gave me the courage to say yes to Cottage 3, yes to you, my precious girl, and yes to being your "mom".

I'd like to say that was the moment that I became a"perfect mom"and all was well as we skipped off into the sunset, but you and I both know it was much harder than that. We both had some growing to do. 

And so, We made canvases of our favorite scriptures and quotes to remind us how very much we are loved by the Father, things like "Be the change you want to see in the world," You are Beautiful, your are Worthy, you are Enough" and  "You are fearfully and wonderfully made".  

And when tempers flared as doubts about their truth caused you to question His love and tear them apart, we picked up the pieces and glued them back in place together. 

We talked about how this could be a physical representation of what the Lord will do if we bring Him the broken pieces of us.

You walked the isle at church that next Sunday and asked Jesus into your heart and you taught me and our whole cottage to believe that miracles are possible. Because of your example and courage to take that first step, three other girls in our cottage made professions of faith that day and were baptized with you. And in truth my own faith was also renewed. 

We hung a poster from the movie Inside Out over your bed and we talked about how we could put Anger and Sadness and Fear at the back of the bus and get back to Joy.

We laughed together, we cried together, we sang together, we argued with one another, we sang "He loves us just the way we are today, but much, too much, to let us stay that way".

We prayed together, we celebrated birthdays and holidays, we made calming down strategies, you pet Heifer kitty on the porch swing.

We got through heartaches with boys, we read books about princesses who lived "dangerously ever after," we made Halloween costumes with Ms. Maria, we rode to school in the van together and we watched the sun come up with one another each new day.

We tried to make sure our recoveries were grater than our failures, we worked on our skills and we asked over and over and over again, "what do you want?" and "what are you willing to do to get that?" while trying to get back to good. 

We walked Georgia together, we swam at the pool together, you played on the playground with Bug and we painted a picture that reminds us to let our light shine. 

You found a home away from home, a place to recover and begin again at the SLC in Mr. Matt's office. 

We packed lunches for kids in need, we sorted baby clothes for new moms, we worked on mats for the homeless and you learned better to appreciate what you have been given. 

We walked on the beach in Galveston, conquered our fears on the ferris wheel at the aquarium, and touched a piece of the moon at the space station.

You got an awesome haircut, we attended bee meetings together, we cleaned out your closet, we cleaned out my office, we cleaned out the pantry, and we cleaned out your closet, again. 

And in true mom fashion I feel as though the days seemed long, but the years were short and they flew by.

You got on the bus one day on your own and I never had to drive you to school again. 

You danced at Cotillion. 

You recorded beautiful songs on our front porch. 

You won the Most Improved Student of the Year Award. 

You graduated from Jr. High School. 

 And you surprised us all with your resilience.

This is the start of a whole new chapter of your life, my Love! 

I know that God has big plans for you, yet! 

Never give up! 

Keep moving forward. 

Baby steps if necessary, giant leaps when you can!  

You are there now, back with your dad trying to figure out your next steps.

 But I will always be here. 

I have hanging in office a canvas that has a scar. 

A place where the glue and the hands that restored it mean more to me than almost any other possession I own.

"You knit me together in my mother's womb," it reminds me,

"I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made." 

You were not knit together in my womb, but you have been born of my heart, dear one, forged by days of heartaches, triumphs and joys. And somewhere along the way the Lord began a beautiful tapestry that I am proud to have been one small piece of. 

I look forward to seeing that masterpiece, you, when it is completed,

 Loved, Worthy, Beautiful and 

Wonderfully Made! 

Copy and paste the link below into a separate browser bar to listen to the song clip as the video plays. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWfjlIMiqBg