My beautiful family
Back row: Bladimir, me, Erick, Jessica (Erick's mom), Stefany (Josuan's sister)
Front row: Josuan, Marvin, Cristhian, Cristofer (Erick's brother), Jesús
Hello All,
Please excuse my absence last month. I have been so busy and am so exhausted! To be honest with you, it’s Sunday which means I spent the whole day in full throttle mom mode with my six sons in Teen Challenge, and although my body just wants to sleep, my spirit is restless. This is has been an unbelievably stretching month, and what is currently sustaining me is the hope for rest when I go to the States in a few weeks.
In this month, my finances have been stretched with unexpected car issues and sick kids and those random life problems. My kids have pushed my limits. And, in the middle of trying to divide my time among six kids and deal with their individual problems, I have struggled with the feeling that I am not enough and will never be enough. I have spent days where all I have wanted to do is hide, afraid to answer the phone or open my door because I’ve felt so exhausted, so empty after giving so much of myself, and just spent in every sense of the word.
But in the middle of such intense exhaustion which has pretty much been the theme of this year, I have found such unspeakable gratitude and joy. I look at how far my family has come, and we are absolutely nothing short of a miracle. But, we’re not out of the dark, believe me, and today has been one of those days when I’ve been reminded that I can’t stop fighting. It’s easy when you’re so tired to fall into a routine just to survive, but my family is on the line every single day. So, I cannot be afforded that luxury, and neither can they.
I spend Sunday mornings during the church service just crying with gratitude watching my sons seeking God and worshipping Him. Each one of my children is a miracle, and I pray I never forget that. On the contrary, I marvel that God picked me to be their mami because I’m nothing special. We’ve only gotten to where we’ve reached because of His grace and listening to His voice. It’s really just that simple. I’ve been listening to Christmas music since July because it’s been my way of giving myself a goal and telling myself over and over, “We’re going to make it to Christmas. We’re going to last as a family that long.” Of course, I want us to make it past Christmas, but it has helped me to envision what our first Christmas together as a family will be like. For Josuan, it’ll be the second time he ever receives a Christmas gift (the first time was when I gave all of the boys in 21 de Octubre a gift last Christmas) and the first Christmas since he was seven-years-old that he won’t be doing drugs or drinking. I think quite possibly for all of my children, it’ll be the first time they spend Christmas secure as part of a loving family. It will be a milestone for us to say the least, and here we are already in November and still standing.
Erick
The beauty of our family—something that God emphasized to me this morning—is that we’re a manifestation of redemption and restoration in so many aspects. This morning, we were giving Mami Jessica, Erick’s mom, Happy Birthday hugs. And, with tears in her eyes, she told me and Josuan, “I lost one son [he was murdered last year], but God has given me five more [talking about my sons who love her as part of our family].” Erick lost his brother, but God has also granted him five new brothers. A few weeks ago, Bladimir cried as he told me how much he misses Kevin (Alvin and Nelly’s other foster son who was kidnapped and never heard from again) because although they weren’t blood brothers, they did everything together. Kevin played with him, joked with him, and protected him like a big brother. It was the loss of Kevin’s protection that truly broke Bladimir. But, that same day, something redemptive happened. Bladimir got in trouble with a leader for breaking a rule he hadn’t known about and worried he’d be punished, and with no prompting from me, my two right-hand men—Josuan and Marvin, who act as the oldest, big brothers in our family—immediately went to the leader to defend their little brother. They returned confidently telling Bladi not to worry about it because they had taken care of it, and I had the joy of pointing out, “The loss of Kevin is very difficult, but God hasn’t forgotten you. Now, He’s given you two big brothers to fight on your behalf.” The fact that Marvin and Josuan are best friends is an absolute miracle (that I’d been prophesying for months) because they come from rival gangs and have terrible jealousy/sibling rivalry issues. One has the tattoo from one gang, and the other has the tattoo from the other gang. And, yet, no matter how much they snap at each other or have their little tiffs, their frustration doesn’t last even a day before one caves, and love wins. Marvin’s relationship with Josuan is redemptive for him because Marvin’s best friend in his former life on the streets was his older brother. His older brother was the influence who brought him into drugs and so much harm. When Marvin made the decision to change, he lost his best friend because his brother did not decide to change. But, God has given him a new best friend in a new brother. Our entire family is a redemption for Jesus because he essentially grew up without close family nearly his entire life. And, each one of my children is a redemption for me because there is a piece of myself in each one’s struggle. So many things that I did or went through that I regretted later or that I had trouble forgiving myself for or that I didn’t understand why I had to suffer, God has completely used to rescue them, to speak into their lives, to protect them even if only from themselves, and to show me that God is indeed true to His word that:
“we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28).
Jesús and I
With that said, while this motherhood is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been a part of, it’s also undoubtedly the most difficult. The deeper I enter my children’s lives, the more I love them. The more that I love them, the more they are mine. The more they are mine, the more their pain is my pain. Josuan and I have had a rule since the very beginning that being family means “your problems are my problems,” and he takes that rule very seriously, being quick to pick up on my struggles too instead of just dumping his own on me. And, I have been finding in this past month that as my sons are healing, it’s becoming much easier for them to forgive those who have harmed them. But, with each new level of depth of my love for them, it’s very very difficult for me—in many cases, more difficult for me than them because I so adamantly want to protect them.
This past week, I found the very human mom in me fighting with the Christ in me. It’s my desire to be merciful and loving, compassionate and humble like Jesus, and outwardly, it is Christ in me that I want to say wins more often than not. But, before I make that decision of action to do the right thing, there is often a battle inside with my emotions. This week was so difficult in this sense because although I always maintain that I want to be a refuge for my kids without ever creating a sense of competition with their biological families or robbing them of their biological families, I am still human. I still have feelings. And, when I give so much of myself, there is still that part inside of me that is fearful of loss and screams at me to shut the door of my heart when I feel ripe for an emotional beating. With all of my kids, I have stepped in when no one else—including their own biological families—wanted to. I have fought with time, energy, prayers, tears, discipline, and more than anything, relentless love. I hurt when they hurt and hurt when I hear their stories of past hurt because they’re mine, and I love them. Sometimes, I think the residual hurt that it leaves on my heart is worse than the hurt they’ve experienced (well, after they’ve been healed of a particular hurt).
The week started with taking Jesús to Forensics to get an examination to help verify his age since we don’t know his age or his birthday since he has never had a birth certificate. We’re sitting in the middle of the interview in this blank room with fluorescent lights where my son is very confused (he’s quite innocent and childlike in many ways) about what is going on, and they’re checking every physical aspect that could possibly give a clue to his age. (The ladies conducting all of this weren’t too gentle or compassionate about all of this either.) The previous night, Jesús had a breakdown that surprised me. It’s rare that Jesús cries. But, he admitted to me that he’s afraid that I won’t return to Honduras and that he’ll lose the only family that he has. He told me that he wants to find some way to get in contact with his extended family and the neighbor who raised him—not because he wants to live with them but because he wants to ask for their forgiveness. Marvin, Josuan, Erick, and Bladimir have all had the opportunity to ask for forgiveness from those they’ve harmed with their life choices, but Jesús hasn’t had this basic part in the process. He struggles with feeling like his family (who didn’t raise him) and this neighbor will feel like he is ungrateful since he has never returned to thank them. He is now adamant that he never wants to leave me or Marvin or Josuan. We are his family, but he wants closure. So, what can I do? I am not his biological family. I am not enough. So I hold him in my arms and ensure him that I will return until the moment of hurt passes. Thus, in the middle of watching these ladies look down their noses at my son because he doesn’t know his age, used to be a gang member, and has massive scars from the attack, my heart began to ache profoundly. I began to think about each one of my children, and ask myself, “Haven’t they suffered enough? What haven’t they gone through?” And, in my honest communion with God, I couldn’t help but ask, “When do they get to stop suffering?”
I love that smile...
Just hours later, I faced another test of love. One of my son’s mothers, who didn’t care when he was in his greatest hour of need and has never fought for him, started proudly (perhaps territorially?) identifying him as her son for the first time in his life. This is a good thing. This has been a goal and has been a desire of his heart for his whole life. Thus, the Christ in me is so pleased with this miracle that God has done, but the very human mom in me who had to watch his devastation at her indifference to him and how easily she could forget him balks at accepting this as a victory. The very human mom in me wants to protectively hold my baby in my arms and shield him from any further hurt from her fickle “love” that depends on his actions or state of being. The very human mom in me wants to yell, “Where were you when he needed you? Now that he’s healing and changing and isn’t a drug addict any more, you love him? Only now that I’ve fought for him and love him like my own, he’s yours?” It’s ugly to feel that way. And, in recognizing my fear of losing him and of getting hurt, I had to get on my knees and just cry out the hurt to God, begging Him to give me the strength to forgive her and extend mercy as my son has already done.
Only days later, I was stretched once again when I saw a person who was an abuser of one of my children. It was the first time I saw this person since being made fully aware that he had been an abuser (and potentially dangerous to me and my child). From far away, I was fine. I was alert. I was vigilant. But I was not fearful. I didn’t feel anger or hatred or resentment. But, when the person had the nerve to ask people who were with me to ask me how my child was, I reacted in a way that I never expected in my life. In a split second, it was like someone had lit a fire of blazing pain inside of me. It was more excruciating than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. I started to open my mouth because I wanted to snap with something hateful, with something protective, with something that would make this person know that it would be a grave mistake to come near my child ever again. But, with my mouth open and tears quickly burning my eyes, nothing came out of my mouth. I could only shake my head because I couldn’t breathe. Instead, I began to tremble and buried my head in my hands and began to cry violently, sobbing and scaring everyone within an earshot because normally I’m quiet, little Sarah. Thankfully, Pastora Mirna and Mami Nelly, who were with me, took care of the situation perfectly, and I left. I don’t know what it was that broke within me because, while crying and even afterwards, I didn’t feel hatred or anger. All I felt was an unspeakable, burning pain that still tinges my soul and turns my stomach to knots. I ache for my baby and for everything that my child went through. I never knew I could love someone as much as I love my son. But, I also ache for the soul of his abuser. The nature of abuse is cyclical. Where there is an abuser, there is a root of suffering. There is a darkness, an evil that took hold and thrust its roots deep into soul, psyche, and physical feeling. So, of course, I had to recognize that I have to follow my son’s example of forgiveness, difficult though it may be. There is immeasurable power in forgiveness. We see this all the time in my family. And, of course, when my child found out about all of this, it was no big deal because he’s not afraid any more, and he’s forgiven. But, if I would’ve had my choice today, I never would have let him out of my arms, out of my sight, or out of my protection.
Josuan stuck to me like glue as always.
The deeper I get into adopted motherhood, the more difficult it is for me to deal with the pain of knowing that I can’t rewrite their pasts. I can’t go back and be the mom they never had then. I can’t be the mom who protected them from all harm because much harm has already been done. I will never get to hold them like my babies although I love them like I gave birth to them. I will never get to be at their kindergarten graduations, kiss their boo-boos, or know what their first words were. And in addition to the weight of this loss of time and childhood with them, in the midst of loving them so much, I also have to be humble and merciful enough to share them with their biological families who weren’t the families they needed, who hurt them, and who often didn’t care enough to do anything for them before. I have to be fiercely protective to keep them from falling into the abuse of their pasts but open-handed enough to let them go and restore their relationships with their blood families. I have to be completely vulnerable and give all of my love in order to win them over and heal their orphan spirits, but I have to be unselfish enough to never expect anything in return, never create a sense of competition between me and their real families, and never let my love depend on their actions. I have to gentle enough to let them peel back each layer of hurt and darkness without fear of rejection and firm enough to not tolerate manipulation. This is the love of Jesus, and it is so painful, so difficult, and so costly. But, it’s also the only answer for my children. It’s the only thing that has kept Josuan from doing drugs again, Jesús from escaping completely, and Marvin from going to the States illegally. It’s the only thing that has rescued them, the only thing that has healed them, and the only thing that has given them the power to forgive. So, how can I stop now just because it hurts or I’m afraid when I know what’s at stake here?
Bladimir visiting with his sisters, Amy and Mayra.
This past week, I took Stefany (Josuan’s sister) with Mami Nelly and Pastora Mirna to a special Christian women’s meeting. Although we both felt out of place because it was in a fancy hotel, it was undoubtedly a God thing that we went. It was put on by the same church that held the 21 Days of Worship in April—when and where I first heard God tell me that I needed to take control of this family that He was giving me and that if I didn’t fight for my kids, no one would. I was so scared of being a single mom and was so overwhelmed just by Josuan. But I obeyed. And, as they played the song in worship that I had sung over my children’s lives every day at that time, “Break Every Chain,” God began to show me just how far we’ve come. It’s unbelievable. We haven’t even been a family for a year, but we have already overcome so much. This time last year, Josuan and Jesús were in 21, and I didn’t even really know Marvin. Six months ago, Josuan was just entering Teen Challenge before the rod in his leg moved up to his back. Jesús didn’t really believe that I loved him, and Marvin couldn’t stand Josuan. Now, here we are with two more members in our family and moving forward together. I don’t know how I’ve made it as a 24-year-old single mom with six, teenage, former drug addict sons, but the victory belongs to the Head of our household—our Heavenly Father.
Marvin and Mayra
The message at this service was about generational curses, and it was unbelievably powerful. The speaker mentioned how we often embrace our difficulties that seem to run in the family as our lot in life or something normal. But, she made the case that these were actually generational, spiritual, demonic curses, and that spiritually, we have the power as God’s children to rebuke them and break those chains. Generational curses are not something that I remember talking about or learning about when I lived in the States, so I have no idea how you, my audience, feels about them. But, I can tell you that just with Josuan’s family, I have enough evidence to completely believe that they not only exist but that they run rampant in ruining lives if someone doesn’t break the chain. Josuan’s great grandfather was an alcoholic. Josuan’s grandfather is an alcoholic, and Josuan’s father is a drug addict and alcoholic. And both Josuan and Stefany at their ripe ages of 16 and 13 have been pulled in that direction with the results being full-blown drug addiction and living on the streets in Josuan’s case. And, in listening to this message, I began analyzing the family stories that I know of my kids (in some cases, it’s very limited). Cristhian’s uncle is/was a thief, and Cristhian has been in and out of juvenile delinquent centers for robbing. Who knows who else in his family is/was a thief? Erick’s father and brother were murdered at young ages. Jesús’ father, mother, and brother all died at a young age, and he was almost murdered! Don’t even get me started on the abuse that runs in all of my kids’ families. It’s unbelievable. But, as they prayed and worshipped after the service, I felt the power of the presence of God like I’ve never experienced in my life. And, in my prayers and worship, I just pled the blood of Jesus over my sons and my family and stood in the gap to break those generational curses. Sometimes, I get so overwhelmed by what we’re up against, but I look at how far we come, and I take hold of the truth that:
“Greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world.” (1 John 4:4).
Mayra and Bladimir celebrating Bladimir's birthday
Just as a side note, 21 de Octubre wants to give me another son. (Josuan has practically tried to forbid me from going to 21 because he knows it usually results in a new brother, and he knows I’m so exhausted.) I already have a reputation (that I like)—the mother of the lost causes, the hopeless cases, and those who no one else wants. And, I’m beginning to see how the testimony of my children is causing people in this government-run facility to recognize that only the power and love of God changes people. They seek me out to take on the children who are the most damaged because they’re learning the power of the One. This particular young man being pushed in my direction is one I’ve prayed for and wanted for a long time. But, he’s also not a drug addict which means the pastor may not accept him in Teen Challenge. Please just be praying for God’s will in the situation. If the pastor will accept him in Teen Challenge, I’ll adopt him. If not, I don’t have another option to help him right now.
Please also be praying for all of my children. Erick and Jesús are nine months into their year in Teen Challenge. I need an answer for what to do about communicating with Jesús’ family with safety issues and no phone number. Josuan is half a year in, and he is struggling. He’s doing his absolute best to fight and continue forward, but he’s being hit by every kind of temptation, nightmare, etc. Marvin is still in Teen Challenge after completing his year, but he’s struggling with learning humility with his leaders. Bladimir is moving forward but lacks foundation. Cristhian, to put it quite frankly, is a walking, disciplinary terror. But, God heard my prayers and finally put him with a leader who knows how to discipline him without falling into his manipulation (he’s small and cute and uses those things to his advantage). Stefany is step by step getting to know her Heavenly Father, but much is lacking in her healing. And, if you think about it, pray for me too. This mama is in terrible need of a rest (which is coming up at the end of the month). I will be in the States for a period of time to recharge and am willing to speak at any church, function, or group who would have such a desire. (I have some powerful stories to tell!) If you’d like to be in contact with me while I’m in the States, you can email me at sarah.crickenberger@gmail.com.
All of my love,
Sarah |
