I remember the first time someone told me I had a "special calling." I was young and naive and beamed with pride as I imagined all of the super exciting things God had in store for me. At the time, I was certain it had something to do with the CIA, or maybe I would make a career out of traveling, alleviate poverty, or write a bestselling book.
 
As each of those things fell through and the words of the people who spoke them over me fell flat, I began to question -- my life, my goals, my purpose. Law career? Gone. Husband? Gone. Security? Gone. Hopes, dreams, aspirations? Gone. My blog? Have you noticed how long it has been since I've sent an email to this list or written a legit blog post?
 
Maybe there's a reason for that. It could be that I've stumbled upon my calling -- or it found me.
 
As you're reading this, I am sitting in a court room waiting to be ambushed once again by DFS. You may know them as "Child Protective Services." Yes, you read right. For the past 16 months these people have put me through what I can only describe as a literal hell.
 
I was targeted ... and no amount of conspiracy theory can go against the weight of that reality. Two of my children were intentionally put into foster care for the sole purpose of adopting them out to a family who was friends with a caseworker. (The kids have since been removed from their home.) I have been lied to, lied about, threatened, harrassed, interrogated, forced to take a psych evaluation, alienated from two of my children who have been alienated from their siblings, false-hotlined (thankfully the investigator here did her job properly), accused of abandonment and abuse (because apparently they found out you actually have to have grounds to take and/or unlawfully withold someone's children and they didn't have them), and when their far-fetched desperate attempts to circumvent my constitutional rights didn't pan out, they just started making stuff up -- though that would imply that at some point they weren't.
 
I can't describe how hard this has been for me. I'm pretty sure I'm perminantly tattood with PTSD. At one point, I was chastized on the stand by the guardian ad litem (who is supposedly representing my children) for not leaving them in their country (which would have resulted in death) and for refusing to enable the discrimination they experienced by their father (who, by the way ... has no case against him). Do you know what they call discrimination between your black and white children? Racism ... and I won't apologize for taking no part of it.
 
I can't fault her too much though, she made it clear her objective from the start was to illegally adopt my kids out, and my goodness her zeal in following through has been nothing short of impressive. My guess is that they realized they couldn't take me down, so they enlisted the help of the man they thought could.
 
I could be mad, but if I choose to remain in that state, then I might miss my calling. I don't believe it's coincidence that I'm sitting in this court room right now. They're used to railroading people with questionable pasts and a lack of resources to fight back ... and then they got me. I am their worst nightmare and they know it. I am the catalyst for change within a system that has been allowed to function for far too long without accountability.
 
I would encourage you to find your own calling, but my guess is that it will find you and it might be dressed up in a really ugly package you're going to wish for a hot minute you didn't open. My advice? Open it anyway.
 
 Love, Megan

You can read more about my battle with DFS here and here. If you're waiting for the trilogy to parts 1 and 2, don't worry ... it's coming, and so is my new wellness course and supplement line. More details to come!