Tasting the Donut

When Hallie was just barely old enough to eat table food, her dad gave her a donut.  She had one taste of it, and food, across the board, lost all it's enjoyment for her.

She only wanted the donuts.

All the time.  "Donts".    "Hallie what can I get you to eat?"   "Donts"

Great.

Once the kid tasted the donut, she was forever changed.

I was visiting with my long time friend,  the whole reason  my oldest girls grew into the fine citizens they are, Dawn Moore, and we were discussing the pros and cons of me adopting the lovelies.

It was surprising the OVERWHELMING response to my admission to adopt them.  Seems the only one that was surprised by it was me.

Everyone pretty much knew I would be taking this step.

Tuesday, a "Wrinkle" occurred.  The kid's caseworker called to inform me that the bio parents have hired an attorney and have made the statement that "We will do whatever we have to do to get our kids back."

My hardened, in love with their kids, heart says  "WHOA, back up the BS train, people".   but my gentle, empathetic heart thinks, "These kids need their parents".

Then in talking to Dawn, I told her that their CASA worker, and the kids attorney as well, have said, simply... "These kids have outgrown that life".

In other words, they tasted the donut.

They've had stability, clothes, warmth, food, consistency, built trust, established relationships.  The thought of them going back to living in a car and having one pair of clothes and only speaking vietnamese and not moving FORWARD, wrecks me.

I know God has this.  I know that His will has worked miracles in these kids, and my own life.  I have to focus on that in everything.

Some things just don't make sense, but I have a grounded, firm belief that God knows and has had their plan from the beginning.

You might just say that God is my donut.  And He's all I want.