We're living in no man's land right now. The judge's decision that our son is to move away from us -- his foster family for these first 29 months of his life -- was made, but the change has yet to be implemented.
So here is this huge change, but then there is really no change at all. The "ultimatums" were cast and ignored; the promise of an out-of-character future was enough to seal the deal.
But now, three weeks later, we're still here.
There's no timeline, no calendar, just a never ending "soon."
Or not soon. I mean, how soon is soon? Soon in some industries is moments, minutes. Soon in the foster care system seems to be anytime between now and when a child turns 18. Can there be a "stat"? Can there be a "hot off the press"? Can there be an "overnight"?
Well, here's what I do know: I know that I'm still mama. I know that I don't know what's coming. I know that I don't know what my own future holds any more than I know what the future holds for each of my sons. So I rest and I wait. And I hide my frustrations with the well-intentioned comments from people who don't know what else to say. Because I don't know what to say, and I get annoyed at my thoughts.
Here in no man's land, it seems to be a bad as the desert. I'm still wandering, I'm still tired, I'm still hot with emotion, I'm still uncomfortable. I know what's coming, now, though, so I have the sad anticipation of what is soon to come.
The good news is that desert, no-man's-land, or wherever else this journey takes me, I am still In God's Country.
The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it,
the world, and all who live in it.