Matching Hearts

by Katie

When we got the call we didn't expect you to come. We were expecting the call before you. So my heart already knew you weren't coming. And then you came. Pink blanket, tiny pink pjs and the pink piggie. We weren't expecting a girl, we were told you were a boy. When we got the call around 11pm that you were in fact coming in the next 2-3 hours I expected a rough tumble-y boy. But instead you came. Tiny. Too tiny for your age. 

You were so fragile. We held you constantly. And then we knew we had to gently transition to not being held all the time. So we handed you toys and you had no idea what to do with them. You slept, cuddled and ate. You would sleep for hours and hour and hours and still sleep 12-13 hours at night. People kept telling us how "lucky" we were. Yes, because having a child with trauma is so lucky. We knew you weren't sleeping so much because of luck but because of escape. 

We bonded with you quickly. It made me nervous how attached you were growing to us. It didn't seem right, I talked with another foster mama who let me know it was okay and that you were comfortable and knew you were safe. 

The reactions you have had are ones that break me over and over and over. Reactions out of what you've been through, what you have witnessed. Which are things we will never know. 

I don't know what the future will bring. What court will bring in August and then again in November. I don't know how to handle your hurts. And I don't know if we'll be together forever. But what I do know is our hearts match. Our skin is so different, but our hearts match.

When we started this foster care journey I read that somewhere and in my head that made sense but now I really know the meaning. Now I know what's it's like to know that with my heart. 

Katie is a 30 year old mama to three children, twins that are 9 and a 4 year old. She has been married to her husband, Douglas for 10 years. They have been foster parents for 2 1/2 years.


Listen to more of Katie's story here.

I Never Set Out to be a Savior

by Rachel

I never set out to be a savior.  Which is probably a good thing, I would make a terrible savior.  I'm far too selfish, lazy and all around human to be any body's savior.

I never set out to be a hero. Also, probably a good thing. I am the last person anyone should claim as a hero.

All I set out to be was a Christ-follower.

I found myself saying, "Take me where you want, Lord, and please, for the love, make me less selfish along the way."

It turns out when you say those kinds of things to the creator of the world, and you actually mean it, He listens.  He begins to extend branches of "Will you do this with me? Will you trust me to get you through it?"  And if you find yourself saying yes, you might just need to grab on for dear life.

At first you find yourself knee deep in poo.  That part is not great. It feels a little like a bait and switch, which can be confusing and terrifying.  The poo in my life is metaphorical.  Though I suppose, perhaps, yours is not, depending on the age of your kids. 

Over time you start to experience only ankle-deep poo.  This feels relieving and surprising, though you know better than to get too excited.  Poo is still poo after all.  

Before you know it, you realize all that poo is actually fertilizing something.  You begin to see flowers emerging from what you thought was only wreckage and waste matter.  Your eyes are opened, and you see that things have been working below the surface when you didn't even realize.  

Suddenly a child who seemed to only hate and spew vile at you, buries himself in your arms seeking comfort.  You're shocked to watch a hardened heart begin to soften.  You begin to see layers that have been present for years, in the name of self protection, begin to peel away.  Someone who could barely receive the words, "I love you" is now saying them first.

It is in these moments you become hooked.  You see redemption and the gospel played out before your very eyes.  

And. You. Want. More.  

More of this refreshing path He has led you down. More beautiful flowers you were a part of fertilizing and growing. More of the healing and love that pokes its head out after all the hard work you pour in.

This people, is exactly how you end up adopting teenager after teenager after teenager.  

Call it idiotic; I know I sometimes do.  Or call it living radically for Jesus.  It's called that too.

I am seeing more and more how Christ is taking me on a personal journey where I have front row seats to watch the gospel unfold daily in my home, in my family.  We experience the offering and receiving of grace, forgiveness, mercy, unconditional love, repentance and acceptance.

And I am blessed to be a part of all that. 

I find myself signing up for more, time and time again.  I can't seem to say no. It's become something I don't even want to say no to.

I am thankful God asked me that very first time, "Will you say yes to this with me?"  What followed has been an insane amount of work, prayer, awe and growth.  Three adopted teens in, and I feel truly blessed to be a part of the radical-gospel-living insanity.

Rachel is a 32 year old mom with 6 kids married to the best man she knows, Joey. Her kids are 2,4,7,16,20, and 21. God keeps bringing them teens and asking them to adopt them. Like crazy people, they keep saying yes. What could seem like the worst possible age to adopt in the world, has become God's beautiful redemption story playing out right before their very eyes. And it is good.

Foster Mom Funk

by Jamie

Foster Mom Funk.  Ever heard of it? Me neither, I just made it up.  I made it up to explain this mess of emotions I’m dealing with lately.  This mess of emotions that I can’t begin to explain to even my closest friends.  It’s a mix of heart break, sadness, confusion, anger….but at the same time it’s an overwhelming passion, love, contentment, and a fierce drive to do more.

With each placement it has gotten easier and easier to slip deeper into this Foster Mom Funk (I could shorten it to FMF, but admit it, it’s fun to say “Foster Mom Funk”). I have cried tears for over twenty foster kiddos now and it’s only getting harder.  We have all heard this  annoying phrase from strangers and friends alike, “I could never do what you are doing because I’d love the kids too much…”  Oh how that phrase gets under my skin, and deserves it’s own post, but that phrase has me thinking: Am I there, do I love them “too much”?  Then I remember, that’s a bunch of B.S. My deep love for these kiddos has always been there.  The heart break, sadness, confusion, and anger have grown, but that has caused my passion and drive to explode.

Dear Mama, if you are there today let me just tell you that you are not alone.  Unfortunately we bear a heavy burden of knowing some really ugly stuff and loving children that bare the scars of the ugly stuff.  We are loving children that are going back to situations that we know are not in their best interest.  It’s easy for me to question God when this all feels like too much. There are days that I’d like to throw in the towel and go back to the easy life of being a “normal” family with only 3 kids, the place where we can ignore all the injustices that are happening to precious children right here in our community.  But I know that is not what God has called us to do.  He has always equipped me to deal with every burden we have carried and I know He is not going to stop now.

“The will of God will never take you where the grace of God will not protect you.”  So our family motto remains true.

Jamie is a 34 year old mama to three kiddos, an 11 year old girl and two boys ages 9 and 7. She has been married to her husband, Max for 14 years. Their family has been doing foster care for almost 4 years.