“Hi, It’s Holly! How are you?” I was reaching out to every family member, friend and organization I could remember, trying to find a place for Tim to live. It was May 2016 and 13-year-old Tim had been in foster care for a miserable 2 and half years.

So far, Timmy had cycled through over 30 foster and group homes. Occasionally Social Services wouldn’t have a home for Timmy at all, and his entire day would be spent sitting at the Social Services offices, his backpack at his feet. Those times he’d spend the night at an “emergency” foster home and be back the next day at Social Services, sitting at the office again. He’d also been placed in not quite right settings, such as group homes for older teenage boys with behavior problems, which concerned me greatly.

Ending another call, I hung up the phone disappointed. Returning to my room, I reviewed the latest report from Social Services. My heart ached for Tim as I read. “Tim’s father agreed for the third time to a 6-month reunification plan in which he must attend Tim’s medical appointments. He never came to any appointments.”

Poor Tim, desperately lonely and wanting to go home! Tim was told the details of any reunification plan. I’m sure Tim looked forward to seeing his dad at his doctor appointments, a step in going home.

I pictured Timmy in the doctor’s waiting room waiting for his dad, hopefully watching the door, staring at the clock. My heart broke as I imagined the appointment time growing closer and then passing altogether, Timmy left alone with a caseworker.

What would he be telling himself? How does one make that feel better? Timmy’s doctor appointments could be physically painful. How much worse as time and again it would be compounded by emotional trauma – abandonment and rejection. How awful must the drive to his foster home have been afterward. Three identical reunification plans. Three identical failures. Hope obliterated in a child. Abandoned, rejected. Horrible. I feel sick writing about it.

Have you ever felt rejected or abandoned by someone important? Have you ever disappointed someone you love? How did you handle it?

Brian threatened, “If you don’t move Tim to Minnesota and your rights are terminated in September, your relationship with him will be totally severed – no letters, no calls, nothing until he’s 18 years old!”

I had made at least a hundred phone calls, to everyone I could think of, and everyone so far said, “No.” I heard every reason. “He’s too old,” or “He’s too much work,” or “It’s too expensive,” or “I’m too busy,” or even “That isn’t something I feel like doing right now.” I thought it would be easy to help Tim. Five months later in May I was dejected. Time was running out!

Calling someone every day in order to find a home for Tim had become my mission. I bought more phone time than ever before. I stopped buying anything I didn’t absolutely need so that I could afford more calls. I called people just to ask for the phone numbers of other people.

I asked for resources and other women gave me referrals to organizations who helped children of parents in prison. Tim, however, was either too old (by a year), or I was going to be in prison longer than their standard guidelines (6 months too long), or there was always some other reason I was being told no with a heartfelt, “I’m really sorry.”

“God!” I prayed again, “please lead me to the person who will joyfully take Tim.” Walking back to my room I prepared myself for my next phone call with Tim. In January I’d been excited to tell him about Minnesota. Now I was almost sorry I had. My failure seemed to confirm for him that no one, literally no one in America, not even family wanted him at all, except his mom in prison who couldn’t help him. How do I encourage my son in this situation? I wanted to punch a wall in frustration!

Laughter erupted behind me the next day. Melissa and I sat at a table in the day room playing a game. I didn’t know her well. She hadn’t been here long.

“I’m worried about my teenage son,” she said, dropping a card on the table. My ears perked up; I could relate.

“What about?” I asked, laying down a card myself. I looked up to see Linda wandering over. Linda was back for the second time in a year. She told everyone her father was a preacher.

Linda dropped into a chair as Melissa answered, “Well, he’s been getting into trouble. We think he’s doing drugs, I’m not sure what else. My husband wants to send him to our church camp.”

When I recently began reading the Bible, I had been shocked! I’d previously believed I was knowledgeable. I discovered I was not.

The book Story Structure Architect explains that all stories have either a plot-driven or character-driven story line. In a plot-driven story, the events move the story forward and cause the character to react. “The plot takes over like a tornado.” In a character-driven story the character moves the story forward through action and choices. She causes the events to happen and drives the story along.

I’ve met many people who view their life as plot-driven, seeing themselves as helpless victims of circumstance. They don’t make things happen, they constantly react to things that have happened or wonder what happened. I’ve also met people who view themselves as a main character moving their life forward through their actions and choices.

I’d been in the second group most of my life, but in January 2016 that radically changed! God showed His existence to me, His interest in me. In effect, I experienced a change in thinking. It was now clear that God is and has always been the Main Character initiating and causing events to happen. God is moving our life stories forward through His actions and choices.

I now understood the transformation I was experiencing was not unique to me; I was not the author of it! The secret to my transformation was not in “what I was doing” but Who I’d met. I became eager for my children (and everyone) to know Him!

A week later I sat alone in the day room. Suddenly Linda dropped into a seat in front of me. Surprised, I looked up to see her frowning. Linda’s usually cheerful face appeared angry and oddly, a little smug.

“I read the letter you gave Melissa,” she said, waiting. I struggled to shift gears, so Linda added, “the letter you wrote to your kids, the one you gave her for her son.” Again, Linda waited for a reaction. Not sure where this was going, I smiled and nodded.

Linda frowned, irritated. She spat out, “That was the stupidest letter I ever read!” Linda’s features turned hard. “I’m a preacher’s daughter and I want you to know that was the dumbest letter I ever read. It was poorly written. And your kids won’t learn anything! Why did you even bother?” Now she sat back and crossed her arms.

Shocked, I set aside my work. Leaning forward I answered, “Linda, as a preacher’s daughter you must know Paul, in the Bible, and what he wrote.” I felt flustered, my head spinning from her hostility. Linda gave a small nod, so I continued, “Well Paul says he relied on the Holy Spirit to persuade people and not his own words.”

“He did not!” Linda argued, slapping the table for emphasis. I reached for my Bible, opening it to I Corinthians. I slid it across the table, pointing to these verses:

Projection doesn’t reflect anything that’s actually been said or done by whoever is on the receiving end. It’s about what the person doing the projecting is thinking and feeling about themselves.

That night I read my Bible. I was reading the book of Matthew and I stumbled to a halt as I read chapter ten. Jesus said many radical things and God was about show me another belief I had that I’d assumed came from him and didn’t.

I believed that what I wanted as a mother, Tim’s mother, was right and that God agreed with me. I wanted to rescue Tim, continue to be his mom. The belief that God agreed this was right had been temporarily reinforced when Social Services encouraged me to move Tim to Minnesota to retain my rights. I’d thanked God at the time and felt empowered.

Now my eyes fell on Matthew 10:37 as Jesus said:

Roll your works upon the Lord commit and trust them wholly to Him; He will cause your thoughts to become agreeable to His will, and so shall your plans be established and succeed. Proverbs 16:3

I tentatively thought about God and His plans. I was a little scared to even follow this train of thought, yet I continued. It seemed logical that when someone makes a good plan, they are excited about that plan. If God intended to have my rights terminated, then it was His good plan. It followed He was excited about it.

I did not know for sure if this was God’s plan, but I was not excited about it. I did not see it as good. This could put me on the wrong side of things. Redirecting my thoughts, I prayed again, “God, I hate the very idea of losing my son. I also absolutely need You. I believe Your plans are good. If this is Your plan, to terminate my rights,” my stomach rolled, “today I hate it. Please cause my thoughts to become agreeable to Your will, because I can’t do it. I want to love what You love. Amen.”

Horrified, I cried. Four months remained until the trial. I was in the fire, and God was with me in it.