A Biological Child's Perspective
This post was written by Andrea, an 18 year old reader. Her family has been fostering for seven years and has cared for 16 children. You can read more from Andrea on her blog.
For most of my life growing up, I was the little sister, the baby of the family. I looked up to my older sister, and I still do. I followed her around everywhere, dressed like her, and tried to be exactly like her in every way. She has had such a huge impact on my life, from the very beginning.
I began to long for a younger sibling. I wanted to be that big sister for someone to look up to like I did with my own. Sadly, that never happened. Well… Not in the way I was expecting.
After my mom and I moved to this tiny town in Kentucky, my mom was called to be a foster parent. At first, I didn’t know what to think, or really how to feel. I remember praying to God saying “this is not what I meant,” but with each class and age/gender appropriated shopping list, He began to reveal to me something that went far beyond the borders of my heart.
These children would be stepping out of a broken world. Feeling lost, afraid, angry, betrayed, abandoned. On paper, it was then me and my mom’s job to provide food, shelter, clothes, and education. But God meant for so much more than what was on that little packet I signed.
He showed me that I was just like them. Broken. Looking for someone to love me. Looking for acceptance. For somewhere that would finally feel like home. When I asked Him into my heart, He asked me into His family. From that moment on, I had somewhere I belong. A forever family. One I could always count on. I was shown a love by God that was undeniable. One I could never lose. No matter what I did wrong.
All of that is exactly what these kids needed. All of that love that was poured into me; it was now my responsibility to pour it into them.
Over the years, God has given me so many little ones to love. Sometimes they did not stay long. Some went back to their parents. Some were adopted to loving family members. Not all of their stories had a happy ending. But I knew that they each needed to know that there was someone out there that heard them. That saw them. To hold them, if even for a moment. I knew that God had allowed that person to be me.
Currently, my mom has three sweet little ladies and a little gentleman in her home. The process of adoption has begun for all four of them. Soon, we will be their forever home. Soon, I will be their big sister. Permanently.
I love how that is how God sees us. As His precious children. No matter our stories. Our battle scars. He loves us because we are His own. Adopted as little brothers and little sisters of Jesus Christ.
