A phrase from one of my favorite praise songs got stuck in my head this morning.
"He makes all things work together for my good."
Ugh. This is where I started to argue with God.
"Yeah. I know. I know that You will make all this turn out for good. I'd still like an answer God. I'd still like to know how You want me to handle this! Should the girls come back here? Or should they be moved to a home where the potential for acting out isn't as great?!"
Sometimes I wish God would just send me a fax. Maybe an email. Just tell me what He wants me to do. I'm totally OK with whatever it is. I just want to stay within the will of God.
The Bible tells me to take care of widows and orphans. The Bible also tells me to take care of my own family. Friends and family counsel me to definitely take care of those that are legally mine. The agency director tells me that I need to pray. She can't tell me what to do.
So, after much prayer and conversation with my husband (who just happens to be on a work detail thousands of miles away for the next few weeks), we have decided that we do have to disrupt this placement.
We want to remain in the girls' lives. I'd love to have them come back here to celebrate their birthdays (both are yet this month). I'd love to have them come over and play every now and then. It would just need to be in a time and place where I could devote all my attention to supervising them. I highly doubt that this is going to be possible. I'm not sure the girls would be able to understand why they can play here but why they can't live here anymore.
I'm sick to my stomach today. I wish this decision was a little more cut and dry. But ultimately, we can't risk the safety of our legal family. Now all I have to do is tell the agency and deal with the aftermath.