A Reflection

Sue and Denny Koska

Yesterday came and went, mostly uneventful, with the exception of enrolling our five-year-old grandson for kindergarten in fall, and forgetting that a friend was coming by at exactly the same time.

Two years ago, June 2 at 10:30 a.m., the phone rang and I learned of three young grandchildren in Tulsa, Oklahoma, about to enter Child Protective Services. Their father had left them in a motel room, along with their mom, with no money, food or means of care. Their mother, my youngest daughter, called CPS and was willingly giving them up; three children, all under the age of four. Since we’re the guardians of her 11-year-old son, they called us first. I was told to be there before midnight or the kids would enter the system. With the help of a wonderful friend, I got everything together and flew to Tulsa.

The CPS worker met me at 9:00 p.m. and drove me to the motel. I stayed there four days trying to convince my daughter of her need for help. She finally took off, leaving me with three small children, motel room costs, what was left of their toys, some diapers, and no car seats. I was informed that no one in Oklahoma could care for the children. So, I rented a car, purchased car seats times three, bought a few suitcases, and began the task of figuring out what these three children had remaining that I could take, and what would be left behind.

Eventually, I arrived back in Orange County, California. It was an eventful flight with a two year old who cried from the moment we left Tulsa until we arrived at John Wayne Airport, an infant who was passed around the plane from one helpful stranger to another, and a three-year-old boy with special needs. My husband picked us all up with my oldest daughter and her son. We drove to our townhome, loaded everyone in, and I sat on the family room floor changing diapers, wondering, “Now what?”

I don’t know which was the greater shock: seeing very small children without their parents, or the choices their parents had made. Shock turned to grief, then anger, then back to grief as we went through change after change.

Today, two years later, grief and shock have given way to a whole different lifestyle, and a dependency on God Himself for strength and wisdom. There have been so many losses, and we’ve made so many changes. But today, I also count the many gains as my mind and heart see them outweigh the tears.

How many of us at age 62 get to feel the arms of young children around our neck each day, saying, “I love you”? The littlest one snuggles her head against my heart and repeats, “I love you sooooo much!”  Then I look at my little redhead, who cried for over a thousand miles. Today she giggles as she swings in a tree swing during a visit with my son and his family. Our five-year-old grandson turns six in July and is in his last week of special education. This September he transitions into a regular Kindergarten class. As he loves to say, “I’m a big boy now!”

Body aches and pains give way to laughter as I listen to them making tunnels and forts at the park. I don’t get to sit and visit as much with old friends, yet God has brought so many to our side. Friends have given up their own schedules at times to baby-sit in an emergency, and others have willingly helped out to invest in the life of a child. Recently, Olive Crest, an organization dedicated to the prevention of child abuse, has come alongside us and is completing home visits in order to open up more resources.

The oldest boy, now 13 and a new teen, has had to learn to share everything. The youngest, recently turned two, has the largest vocabulary and understanding of any her pediatrician has seen. Her sister will be four this July, and I have never known a child so resistant to potty training! Yet, she is on day 18 (and counting) of wearing underwear and using the toilet all the time. She announces, “Now I can go to school!” Our five-year-old needed fourteen cavities filled, one tooth pulled, and has been in speech therapy along with weekly behavior therapy, for two years. He is the greatest challenge, but he is also thriving—and so excited to go to school where his big brother went! All four children continue to grow and develop, while I often feel overwhelmed and far out of my comfort zone.

As for the gains? We have a constant awareness that life is not the size of our home and finances that should be there for two seniors, but an exercise of dependency on our Heavenly Father’s love. People, especially those who cannot take care of themselves, rule in importance. Relationships are of utmost importance. As my own dreams dimmed, dreams of children with new hope and a future become brighter. I have gained perspective, an ability to let go what I once thought was worth holding onto, in order to embrace what each day with children brings! Could it be that what looks impossible, shows us all that all things are possible with Christ? I think so.

On this day of reflection, as we anticipate a very noisy “Kool Aid” summer, I want to reach out to all who have helped others in the smallest of ways. I want to let you know that God is alive and I see Him. He is in the eyes of the children who live in our home. He is in my heart when I feel overwhelmed, and wonder what was I thinking that day when I flew to Tulsa. He was in my dad in years past when he would put his arm around me and ask how I was. Three months ago my dad changed his address from Chino Hills to Heaven, and now sees the Lord face to face. I can say for certain, God is in the business of changing things. He wipes away the tears of pain and replaces them with joy and laughter—and He does it on a daily basis.

Have a wonderful day today wherever you are. Here in Brea, California, it promises to be a day of beauty. “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!”

- Sue Koska

Photos courtesy Denny Koska. To see more of his work, go to dennykoska.blogspot.com.