Midwest VOCAL

Another case has arisen. At this point, I can give no details so as to protect the innocent. Fortunately, the family involved told someone they knew about the tragedy happening in their family. That person was aware of the destruction caused in many cases by child protection (and I use that term loosely) agencies. A good lawyer was recommended before the children involved were removed from the home. Remain in prayer, please, for the children and parents involved as they continue through this debilitating process and pray that the family will be able to come out of this ordeal unscathed (or, at the very least, not destroyed completely).

My husband and I got back last night from a life-changing experience in Africa. Perhaps all the so-called child protection workers here should just go there. They’d soon learn our children are doing fine without their help. Many of the children there don’t have enough food, very little if any education, not even toilets. It should keep those so-called helpers busy in Africa just seeing that children have something to eat and they wouldn’t be taking our American children away from parents just because we make them go to church!

My husband and I are making preparations for a trip to Africa so I have not taken time to add to this journal. I do, however, continue to work on ways to help those in need. I never forget, even for a moment, how much I (and my family) needed in our time of tragedy. I want to be there for you when you are in need. Please do not hesitate to comment on these pages or e-mail me with any questions you might have concerning the child welfare system or a case in which you might be involved. I presently have legal representation on retainer and can ask questions of them on your behalf. I simply have not been able to put on paper the rest of our nightmare yet but I promise I will. Though it has been 18+ years ago, I still think of it every day. God is great and it doesn’t hurt as much as it did. Maybe it just took all these years to wade through guilt feelings and pain before I could look up with hope for my family…and hope that none of you will ever suffer at the hands of this immoral system. God bless you and yours now and forever.

Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.

I just saw this on the back of a card. What a wonderful reminder.

“Do all the good you can. By all the means you can, In all the ways you can, In all the places you can, At all the times you can, To all the people you can, As long as ever you can.” –By John Wesley (1701-1791)

I’ll come back to the middle of my story in time but feel the urge to tell you the end or, at least, as far as the end ever comes. The child welfare system never did apologize or even admit wrong even after it was proved time and time again. It only ended as our daughter reached the age of 18. Oh, yes, they had made her a ward of the state years before at the beginning of our ordeal. They ended the ordeal only when she came of age and could speak for herself (for the first time so they said). She with an attorney prepared to bring a lawsuit against the system, the courts, everyone involved in the preposterous scandal that threatened to destroy our family…and, except for the grace of God, did come close to total destruction. The lawsuit close to being filed, the child welfare system simply dropped everything. No charges had ever existed or so they claimed. If that is the case, why did our family spend several years in the depths of hell, wondering each day if our daughter would be kidnapped again?Why did we spend every dime we had to pay court costs, lawyers, psychiatrists, etc. to keep the child welfare system at bay? Why did we borrow money to continue to fight the system and all its counterparts? Why did church people we thought loved us turn their backs? Because we were not street wise in the beginning. We ignorantly thought that these things could not happen (never in the greatest country in the world, America) and, of course, innocent people were not ever charged with horrendous crimes. That changed as our lives changed. We learned the hard way. My husband, I regret to say, finally left us years later. The ordeal took its toll. Our children grew up and moved on. But, even to this day, the horror hangs on. I pray daily for others who might innocently become victims. I work with those who call me and are going through the same ordeals. I do feel some things were changed for the better as we bravely fought the system. But there is so much yet to do. So many families  are still in grave danger in the system. Pray. Pray. Pray.

…and I’m in the dark. I love birds. I really do (except for the starlings and a few others). And I especially love robins (I even named my daughter Robin) but I wish they would find a new nesting place. My yard is full of big, beautiful trees. And bushes. And shrubs. But where do the robins nest every year. Of course, on my back porch light. They tried the front porch light two years ago but that got difficult. I could hardly get in and out of the door in the dark. And, of course, those birds did not like me disturbing them! So I was relegated to using only the back door. But, after much talk between us, they have gone back to the back door again. At least I can use the front door this spring. And the birds are remarkable. They dragged a few leaves, twigs and so forth to the top of the light this past Saturday. On Sunday they went away, taking the building materials with them. I thought maybe they had decided to move to a tree. No such luck. They came back Wednesday early in the morning. By nightfall, they had built the entire nesting site atop and light. Today (Friday) they seem to be re-arranging and securing every detail. I suppose if I knew I had to sit in that same place for a few weeks, I’d want every detail in place, too. I expect all the mess will be worth it in a few weeks as I can sit in the yard or at this computer window and watch babies learning to fly. I spent an entire day last year as two babies flew off almost at the first try. Then Stubborn #3 would not leave the nest. Momma and Papa Robin finally pushed him out. He hopped around the lawn and twittered most of the day. I parked on the swing in back to make sure no neighborhood cats found him. Momma and Papa, I believe, were getting frustrated but they remained faithful to their helpless baby. I forgot lunch and supper as I watched this scene unfold. Finally, just before darkness descended, Stubborn #3 sort-of hopped and fluttered unto the wishing well then to a lower limb in a tree and, finally to a telephone wire…then he was off. I’d like to think he found a home somewhere or maybe that’s him in my yard again this year. Just wish he (or his parents) would use the trees for nest sites so our backdoor would not be in the dark for a season. Thank God for the beauty of nature…and, oh, that we all could be as faithful as those robins that grace my yard and bring inspiration to my soul.

I read recently in a local newpaper a letter to the editor that asked for retired teachers to become child advocates in the court system. This, of course, is needed. Children need someone to speak for them…but

From experience I know that many of these so-called advocates say only what the court wants to hear. They say the children can’t speak for themselves because they are fearful of someone so they lie. On one hand, the advocate will testify that children always tell the truth…but when the child is trying to tell the truth, the advocate says he/she is simply afraid of someone/something so will lie to protect that person/thing.

I know that child advocates are prepared by the child welfare system and we know that usually means they are prepared to help take the child from his/her parents. The advocates do not let the child speak in court or any place where officials can hear. In most cases, the advocates simply go along with the court’s wishes and the child is left behind. No matter how hard the child tries to tell the truth, especially if nothing has happened to him/her, the advocate continues to insist he/she is afraid and doesn’t really tell the truth.

Conclusion: Be very cautious if you want to become a child advocate. Please listen to the child and his/her family. Step out of the box and do not be afraid of the welfare system. Speak up for the child.  You are appointed ONLY to help the child. Can you risk having the blood of an innocent child on your hands?

“Between Sundays”, a fiction novel by Karen Kingsbury

        (A glimpse of the failings of the foster care under the child welfare system and the cost to many children in this care)

   I had a dream the other night and I think I finally know what it means. I seldom remember dreams but this one will not go away. I met a young man in a public place. He wanted me to go with him to his mansion. He promised me riches; he promised me a mansion; he promised I would never have to work again; he promised me love. There was nothing I would ever need to work for again. I would have it all. But I refused. I have things to do. He was not extremely good looking. Why would I want to go with this man? Yes, the promises were lovely but…

   I now think this man was reminding me of heaven after death. But I was not ready to go. I have things left undone. I have a wonderful family here on earth. And I don’t think he meant for me to go with him right now…or I would already be gone. It was a reminder that I need to get and keep my house in order. I need to be ready when Jesus calls me home. It is not that I could not leave it all behind at this very moment…I could…believe me, I could. But I think He has put in my heart to keep on keeping on for a time here yet. And the one thing I have not finished: I have not yet told my story–the story that just might keep another family/child from falling into the viscious clutches of the child welfare system…so I am going to begin.

   The bus came by my house after school. My foster son, who had been living with us for a few months, got off the bus. My daughter did not get off. Perhaps she was riding home with her older brother, who drives to school since he often has choir practice or drama class or some other project after school, but it not like her not to call me. She always lets me know where she is. I tried to call the school to no avail. My foster son had not seen her during the day. Suddenly a dark cloud passed over me. She has been kidnapped. Little did I know at that moment, the weeks, months, years that would pass in a hell that we had no power over. Yes, she had been kidnapped by the child welfare system, taken right out of the school under the noses of the teachers and held against her will in a private home somewhere. She had been shut in a room with a man (no teacher present) and told they were accusing her father of molesting her. She, of course, vehemently denied any of this but she was finally told she could go home if she just agreed with this man. She was terrified. To this day, many years later, I cannot imagine how a little girl must have felt at the mercy of a stranger who had power to do anything to her. She finally screamed that she would say anything just to get back to her mom and dad. That was all this horrible man needed. He loaded her into a car and took her away. I do not know nor does she who she stayed with that night. I, frantic now and not having any idea where my daughter was, called her dad at work. I called her friends from school. No one had seen her since noon that day. I drove to the school. I searched. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I had left my foster son at home to wait for her. I drove back home in a daze. I contacted her brother at his after-school job where he had gone after drama practice. Everyone began the dreaded search that we would never find her alive…or worse. Suddenly a county police woman came to my door. My heart stopped. But her report was not that my little girl  –my baby–was dead but that she had been taken from our home because of something this officer dared not tell me. She wanted me to pack a suitcase for my baby just like she was going on a vacation. I refused. I just wanted my baby back. She needed to do her homework; get ready for school the next day. The officer finally left and I collapsed.

   A sleepless night ensued. Her dad finally got a call from the child welfare system. Not known to me, they threatened him that he would never see his daughter again if he did not confess that he had molested her. At first, he was stunned. Then he buckled just as our daughter had done at school. Whatever it takes to get her home, I’ll say or do. That was his “confession”. He did not even know what (and still doesn’t to this day) he was being accused of. They told him we needed to be in a sort-of court session the following morning. It was the beginning of a 6-year-plus nightmare. One that has never ended in full.

   I will not go on much more at this time but will give you installments of the next several years over the next couple month. I do want to tell you just a bit about the morning to let you know I got my baby back, only by the grace of God. I went early with my son to a breakfast at the school where he was being inducted into the National Honor Society–both my children were excellent students and leaders in their respective classes and clubs. I couldn’t just leave my heartbroken son alone as he struggled with us to understand why and where his younger sister was. We muddled through the induction service then I left him at school and met my husband to attend this hearing. (It was later I learned a school friend found my son sitting in his car along a country road just sobbing his heart out. I never should have left him alone.) The court granted me the right to take my daughter home with me (with a police guard) as long as my husband did not have any contact with her. We were not allowed to talk at this hearing; not allowed to even try to plead our case. Our daughter (they said she was too young to speak for herself even at age 12) so she also could not speak in her own behalf nor the behalf of her parents. So my husband was escorted out of the court building and my daughter and I went home, leaving a devastated family of a mom, a son, a foster son, a daughter with no dad. Only by God’s grace did we get through the following days, weeks of this nightmare.