Nearly a year of being a licensed foster parent, and I'd had only 2 respite experiences. Both teenage girls: one 17 years and the other 16. Tough. Traumatic. Neither experience lasted more than 3 days.
My 3rd teen arrived a month away from the expiration of my license. Her problems were similar to my own. I accepted immediately and hoped for permanency.
We haven't fully completed week 3, and I feel as if I've fought a war.I've been beaten. I've wanted to blog daily, but most times I haven't even been able to find the words. When I can find the words, I'm too exhausted to type.
In 2 weeks, 5 days, I've called the police twice and the crisis hotline once. We've shopped, made dinner and fellowshipped together. We've argued. We've loved. We've talked. And talked. And talked. And argued again.
But tonight? I'm simply weary. She hasn't communicated with me in 7 hours. For the 2nd day in a row, she hasn't returned home when she was due.
I've declared her a missing child (the 2nd time doing such in 2.5 weeks).
Granted, I'm dramatic. But quite honestly, I feel as if I've been battling in my own home. My peace is disrupted.
I pray for guidance, direction, forgiveness and patience.
I just don't know what else to do.
