Isn’t it strange that when trauma hits us there are irrelevant parts of our surroundings that are seared into our memories? I remember where I was standing, what I was wearing, and that the sun was shining outside, yet it was a dark day in my home. I was standing right outside my bedroom on a Wednesday. It was one o’clock in the afternoon and I hadn’t even changed out of my bed clothes. I had made all the calls, I had asked all the questions of all the people I knew, and still felt like I was getting nowhere. Just days before trauma had raised its ugly head and our family's world was left spinning out of control (our control). At that moment, I literally fell to the ground on my knees in complete and utter desperation. I cried out loud, “Lord, had I known (the pain) I would have never said yes (to foster/adoption).” The moment my knees hit the ground and the words left my lips a gentle sentiment echoed equally as loudly in my heart, “And yet that’s what I did for you.” In that instant I understood on a whole new level the power of redeeming love. 

I know most of us pride ourselves in our strength and endurance. If you foster or have adopted, you know it’s not a sprint - it’s all about endurance. It’s about agility and being able to pivot and adjust on a moment's notice. It’s so easy to have a false sense of security in our own understanding of how trauma plays itself out in the lives of others, and even ourselves. 

But friends, the sooner we break ourselves from this false idea that we can’t be weak, that we can’t show our brokenness and imperfections - then the work can truly begin. That is, the redeeming work of the Lord. Take heart, broken things aren’t final things. 

Our human love could never have the power to redeem anyone or any situation. But as we step into other people’s redemption stories - we have the opportunity, privilege, and responsibility to point them to a Heavenly Father whose love is continually in the work of redeeming broken things.

Galatians 4:4-5

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons (and daughters).

Just today I said to myself, ”I feel like this is all just coming apart at the seams!” I said it with tears in my eyes because it’s just all so overwhelmingly painful.

And when you feel like you’re the final stitch holding it all together there's SO.MUCH.PRESSURE. Pressure to get it right, pressure to keep everyone and everything going. But when pressure is put on a flimsy seam, it won’t hold long.

I was falling apart.

In my desperation I said, “Lord, how can I even honor You with this ugly mess?!”

And then I had this picture come to mind of the final stitch just giving way. The seam gaping wide open, not resembling any type of masterpiece, instead, just a mess.

But then, I imagined handing this precious piece, that I had tried so desperately to hold together, to the Ultimate Designer - the One whose plans are too great for me to comprehend.

And He picked up His needle and began to create a masterpiece.

“...and my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.”

— Isaiah 55:8 NLT

At two and a half years old that spunky bright-eyed girl that couldn’t see through her long bangs rocked our world. She was our first foster placement. Two years later she’d become our first adopted child. All smiles she climbed up in the back seat of my husband’s truck. He looks in the rearview mirror and says, “This is going to be harder than I thought”….there have seldom been truer words spoken. 

Those first few months were a whirlwind. I slept with her through restless nights as she screamed out at some unseen (to me) adversary. 

We waited for hours on end in doctors’ offices to understand the depth of her neglect. To understand a new diet we had never even heard of.

Holding her down as doctors look at her mouth to find she has herpes in her throat.

All the while my heart crying out…”God! She’s two years old!!!! What kind of human can do this to a child?!”

No training, no other person’s stories, no movie could have prepared us for when it was time to walk it out for ourselves. We had entered an alternate reality and yet...it was her reality. And it was quickly becoming ours.

This last weekend our spunky bright-eyed girl graduated High School. She walked out on the field, up on that stage, posed for a picture and strolled back to her seat like every other student in that stadium. But what I saw was a courageous woman kick her trauma in the face...one more time. What I saw was that little girl that rocked our world 16 years ago be victorious. 

I know her story doesn’t end here. As a matter of fact, it’ll be a whole new chapter that we will have to navigate together. But I’m not ready to turn to that page just yet.

So don’t mind me....I’ll be sitting in this victory for a bit longer.

“I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

— John 16:33

His story. Her story. Their story.

How long have they spent in a chapter of pain, sorrow, and uncertainty?

Have they spent so long hidden within the lines of tragedy, abuse, and neglect that this chapter will never be finished?

Their tender hearts that once trusted and cried out for help quickly read that hope is not a part of their story. A love that could love them out of the dark places was in other stories but not their own.

And then from the recesses of their despair a voice whispers, “Turn the page.”

They ask themselves, “Can the next page truly be different than the ones that precede it? The pain and darkness is familiar to me. What if when I turn the page it’s just more of the same?”

The voice whispers again, “I will help you turn the page. I will walk with you through the lines that are yet be written.”

And hope is born! A strength is mustered within a fragile heart that begins to see that their story could be different.

To turn the page is like a breath of fresh air, it’s clear and fresh and white. There are no stains of chapters past. Can they dare hope this new chapter, so unknown and foreign, be the turning point of their story? Their hearts are timid because it’s so unfamiliar, but when hope cries out she can’t be ignored! She splashes across the pages of an unwritten chapter with joy, excitement, healing, and anticipation for chapters to come.

Are you willing to help them turn the page? To write a new chapter?

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.”

— Hebrews 10:23

The other day I was at the pool with my kids. I had not planned to get in so I was playing from the edge throwing the frisbee and completely content with my decision to stay by the edge. 

Then I hear a giggle from behind me and before I know it, I’m struggling to keep my balance so I don’t fall in the pool...with ALL my clothes on. 

Cue the slow motion video. I tried so hard to keep my feet on the edge but gravity called me elsewhere. And there I went. Fully submerged, soaking wet with ALL my clothes on! 

The typical response from me would be,”That’s it! The culprit will be sitting out the rest of our pool time!!” 

My daughter’s face across the pool was shocked. I could see in her eyes the dilemma, “I want to laugh...but she might be steaming hot. Let’s just wait this one out.” 

The Lord knew what my children and I needed in that moment. My full involvement, some fun and lots of grace. So I did...I laughed. Not my plan for the day. 

But I chose to be present. To have fun. To connect. To show grace.

Maybe you’ve entered the pool area of foster care. Not yet playing by the edge but you’re considering. 

Perhaps you are on the edge thinking you’re safe right where you are. You’ve started the hard conversations and even training. 

My friend, it’s not until we jump in, fully submerge ourselves in the lives of another do we find the joy of surrender. We might need a little push to help us, whether it’s a spouse, a friend, or a story that breaks our hearts.

Whenever and however you get in the pool, you must trust that it is perfect timing. You’re right where you’re supposed to be. 

It feels awkward, and heavy, and leaves you a bit confused in the emotional arena. But once you’re fully submerged you’ll be able to look into the face of a child that’s just as shocked as you by the current circumstances and they’ll need your presence, your joy, your connection. And lots of grace.

Family traditions are one of my favorite parts of Christmas. There is one that has been added in recent years after I read the book, Adopted for Life by Russell Moore. There’s a chapter that goes into great length about Joseph’s incredible role in the adoption of Christ. The first time I read it - I cried. I seriously couldn’t believe that I had NEVER heard the gravity of Joseph’s role. Maybe I had heard it, but my heart wasn’t ready to receive it? Either way, his role was heavy and is still so real today. Obviously, Joseph wasn’t perfect. He was in need of the Savior, same as you and me. One major difference being, he chose to raise THE Savior of the world as his own! It would’ve been socially acceptable for him to quietly divorce Mary and move on with his life. Nobody probably would’ve thought less of him. He had a choice. Joseph, sweet Joseph, chose obedience - most likely to his detriment.

One of our Christmas family traditions is to place the key players around the stable in our Nativity. The shepherds get their day. Then the wise men get theirs. We even have a day for the animals. Because let’s be real, how cool is it to try and tell the story of Jesus’ birth through the eyes of a donkey. We used to group Joseph and Mary together, focusing mainly on Mary. But the last three years, we’ve done it differently. We give Joseph and Mary each a day. They both had such a unique role to play in the birth of our Savior. Joseph’s day has become my favorite, next to Jesus of course. His choice to adopt the Christ resonates with my family so intimately. I tell my children that Joseph was the one who gave Jesus his lineage, His human birthright. Without Joseph, Jesus would not have fulfilled the prophecies in the Old Testament. Adoption is such a big part of our family story that it just makes it that much cooler to talk about Jesus’ adoption and what that meant for the rest of time. Adoption is a call that has echoed through history and one that is still calling. To care for widows and orphans in their distress. 

So our sweet Joseph is no longer a prop or a generous chauffeur that brought Mary to Bethlehem. Instead he’s a hero in our Nativity scene. I pray that the Spirit can open our eyes so that, like Joseph, we can stand ready to answer a call that at times makes no sense but mirrors the heart of a God that made a way for us over 2000 years ago. His lineage is ours. And that lineage is through Christ. And that my friends is salvation, the greatest gift ever given!!! 

“What better way is there to bring the good news of Christ than to see his unwanted little brothers and sisters placed in families where they’ll be raised in the nurture and admonition of the Lord?” - Russell Moore

Just yesterday I was sitting in the most darling little coffee shop with a full day ahead of me. I found the perfect spot next to the window with an outlet. I was plugged in, with my papers spread and my yummy latte sitting there. I let out a sigh, I was ready to get some things checked off my list. It was finally quiet ... my list was waiting and I was ready.

“Excuse me, we need a witness to sign our marriage certificate,” a sweet little voice said from behind.

It took a moment for me to realize she was serious. Once I comprehended, I quickly left my latte and list of plans and went to sign their marriage certificate. I have quite the imagination so I was imagining all the reasons why they were in a coffee shop, getting married. Trust me, my imagination made up things that would be worthy of a Hallmark movie. Regardless of the story, I was thrilled I got to play a tiny part. 

I left those starry-eyed lovers and sat back down with my best laid plans for the day. My previous plans seemed far less as daunting than they did fifteen minutes prior. And then my mind turned to orphan care. Whatever part we play in orphan care, it usually disrupts our best laid plans. It takes us out of our comfort zone and asks us to connect with the idea that this life is not our own. 

When we set aside our agendas and dare to look into the eyes of a child we learn that this life is not our own. Though their eyes are not usually starry and the story we step into is more of a Lifetime movie than a Hallmark one. And even when our journey with them takes longer than planned or isn’t as long as we hoped, we learn that this life is not our own. 

If we make it about us and try to hold onto our plans and our expectations, we will be sorely disappointed. And when we get to the place where we can surrender to the idea that my life is not my own, God is able to come in and fill those unknown, frightful spaces with grace, favor, and hope. 

So listen for the request to put your plans aside. When you hear that voice ask, I pray we all remember that my life is not my own. 

“My life is not my own

To you I belong

I give myself away

So you can use me.”

~ William McDowell

It takes a lot of faith to say yes to orphan care. And I rejoice with you in this because in this very moment...you are victorious! This orphan care journey is packed full of moments where the Lord, that loves us and them so deeply, does more than we could ever imagine. The moment we say yes begins this journey of seeing the Lord take what is broken and make it whole. He takes the lost and makes them seen. He takes the lonely and gives them family. He takes our fearful hearts and fills them with determination and grace. That, my friends, is victory!

There is victory when families say,

“Let me hang with the kids this Friday so you and your husband can go out.”

“Don’t worry about dinner Friday night. We’ll bring it so you can cuddle with your new little friend.” 

“How can I pray with you?”

“What do you need?” ...All of these moments set families up for victory.

I’ve asked myself through my own fostering experience when the victories seem few and far between. When will break through come? When will we see victory in this hard part of advocating for these innocent kids? Will there ever be victory in understanding and working alongside a broken system? When will our children see victory in overcoming their trauma. The Lord in his gentle gracious way showed me that the moment we stepped out in faith...we had victory. The victory went before us as we became a part of the “system”. The victory goes before us in advocating for them because Christ is theirs...and our biggest advocator. And best of all...their victory over trauma comes when our faith shows them that the victory is already theirs. Then they learn to have faith...and they are victorious.

I think our biggest victory is when we are reminded that our faith knows no bounds. 

To those who say yes to orphan care...we applaud you because we see that your faith is great. And in that your victories will be many! We can’t wait to celebrate with you!!!!

”The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this FAITH, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see.” Heb 11:1 MSG