The War Didn’t End. It Just Moved to Another Front.

When every battle seems to open another front, and you're running out of time, money, strength—and answers.

Things are settling down a little bit now.

My older two are having their immediate needs met, and because of that, I am worrying less about them than I was a week ago. That should be a good thing.

And it is.

But it doesn't mean I'm at peace.

I'm still deeply concerned about my younger two. The hardest part is that right now, there is absolutely nothing I can do about their situation.

And that's a brutal place for a father to be.

I am trying to make an appointment to speak with the social worker managing my older kids' cases. My oldest isn't really talking to me right now, either. Things have more or less returned to normal on her end, so I suppose I expected that.

I'm still not particularly happy about it.

I want to be there. I want to know what's happening. I want to be able to help.

But I can't force any of that.

I have to trust that God is going to make a way, even though right now I can't see what that way looks like.

And if I'm being completely honest, that's hard for me.

Trying to Be a Dad With What I Have

On Sunday, after church, I spent some time with my second daughter.

I wanted to help replace some of the things that had suddenly disappeared from her life.

She had left her place with basically two pairs of shoes: Crocs and high heels.

I knew Children's Aid would eventually purchase the things she needed, but everything is a process. And when you're looking at your daughter and you know she needs something now, “eventually” doesn't always feel good enough.

So I bought her some cheap shoes and socks.

She also needed a replacement mirror. The one that had originally been in her place had been broken by her mother out of spite.

So I bought that, too.

None of these things were expensive.

But they add up.

And right now, I am spending money that I don't really have.

I'm not even working at the moment because my bike is in the shop getting repaired. I'm estimating that the repairs will cost around $400.

So I'm not earning money.

My regular expenses haven't stopped.

And now I'm spending more on my kids than I had planned to at this point.

I don't regret spending the money on them.

Not for a second.

But I would be lying if I said it doesn't scare me.

I'm broke.

I hate admitting that.

I hate being in a position where I have to look at something my kids need and think about whether I can afford it.

Sometimes being a father means you can't fix the situation.

Sometimes all you can do is buy the shoes.

Or the socks.

Or a replacement mirror.

Or give your kids a little bit of money so they can buy hot dogs at Costco before they go see a movie.

It wasn't much.

But it was what I could do.

And sometimes what you can do has to be enough.

Sometimes the war doesn't end. It just opens another front.

Another Front Opens

Then there is my ex-wife.

I've been told that she is having second thoughts about the kids being cared for by Children's Aid.

That concerns me deeply.

Right now, my older two are happy. Their needs are being met. They have stability.

That hasn't always been the case when they have been with their mother.

And right now, I don't have the ability to house my kids myself. So as much as I want to be able to say, “Come live with me,” that simply isn't an option at this moment.

That hurts to admit.

I want my kids.

But more than I want them with me, I want them safe.

I want them fed.

I want them cared for.

I want them happy.

I believe my ex-wife has reasons for wanting them back that aren't entirely about what is best for the kids.

I hope I'm wrong.

But I'm worried.

And that's another front in this war.

Because apparently, one crisis wasn't enough.

The Court Battle

I went to court on Wednesday because I needed answers.

I spoke with duty counsel.

I wish I could tell you that I walked away knowing exactly what I needed to do.

I didn't.

What I did learn is that getting regular visits with my kids is going to be an uphill battle.

Children's Aid essentially won't take a position on that. They aren't there to advocate for me or to tell the court that I should have access to my children.

That means I have to fight that battle myself.

I was advised that I will essentially have to respond to my ex-wife's divorce proceedings, and that creates another layer of complications.

If I want to get in front of a judge about seeing my kids, I may have to wait until the first court date.

That could be four to six months away.

Four to six months.

If the judge agrees with me, they might order visits.

Might.

And then there is the possibility of filing an urgent motion.

But “urgent” is subjective.

What feels like an emergency to me may not look like an emergency to a judge. I was warned that if I file something as urgent and it gets rejected as non-urgent, that could actually hurt my case.

So I'm left trying to figure out how urgent my children's lives need to become before the system considers my situation urgent enough to act.

And there is another problem that worries me just as much.

My ex-wife will automatically qualify for Legal Aid and have a lawyer paid for.

I may not.

That means there is a very real possibility that she could walk into court with a lawyer while I am expected to represent myself.

I don't know how anyone can look at that situation and call it an even playing field.

It isn't.

And that scares me.

I went to the Legal Aid office after leaving the courthouse. It wasn't far away.

I walked in hoping I could start the application process.

I was told I had to apply over the phone.

So I left and went home.

Another door.

Another process.

Another thing I have to figure out.

And Then There Is My Faith

This is where I'm struggling.

I'm being told that right now I need to press in.

I need to trust God.

I need to have faith that He is going to make a way.

I know that.

I believe that.

But right now, I'm struggling with it.

There.

I said it.

I don't want to pretend that faith means I never get frustrated.

I don't want to pretend that I don't sometimes look at everything happening around me and wonder how much more I'm supposed to carry.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of fighting.

I'm tired of trying to figure out which door to knock on next.

I'm tired of having limited money, limited resources and limited options while the problems keep coming.

The war didn't stop when things started getting better for my older two.

That was one front.

Now another front has opened.

And my time, money, energy and resources are limited.

I feel like I'm fighting a war on multiple fronts with an army of one.

And some days, I feel defeated.

Galatians 6:9 says:

“So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.”
— Galatians 6:9, NLT

I needed that verse.

Not because everything is suddenly okay.

It isn't.

Not because I suddenly know how this ends.

I don't.

I needed it because I'm tired of doing what I believe is right and not seeing the results yet.

I'm trying to be there for my kids.

I'm trying to navigate the court system.

I'm trying to get legal help.

I'm trying to get back to work.

I'm trying to rebuild my life.

And I'm trying to trust God while I do all of it.

Right now, I'm not asking for everything to magically become easy.

I just need enough strength to keep taking the next step.

My bike should be finished by the end of Thursday. If everything goes according to plan, I'll have my wheels back Friday, remount the tires, reassemble everything and hopefully be back on the road by Saturday.

That matters.

Because getting back on that bike means getting back to work.

And getting back to work means getting a little more of my independence back.

Maybe that's what pressing on looks like sometimes.

Not winning the whole war.

Not fixing everything.

Just taking the next hill.

I'm tired.

I'm frustrated.

Some days I feel defeated.

But I'm still here.

And as long as I'm still here, the war isn't over.