Loving Broken People

Loving Broken People

Jamie C.

Sometimes I think this foster care life would be so much easier if I just took care of the child placed in my home, made no connection to family, and then washed my hands of them once they left. Like “I did my job, I’m done. See ya.”

Because the reality is that sometimes loving broken people brings brokenness into your life. Sometimes it makes things complicated, increases the drama, prolongs the pain. But, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it brings fullness and life and joy and relationship and comfort.

Just today, I got a picture from my foster daughter’s mom that I had never seen, of a time before I knew her. I got a text from a former placement’s foster mom with the sweet news that they’ll be adopting soon. I got a call from my former son’s mom, updating and connecting and asking if he could spend time with us while she got on her feet again. Today, I got to enjoy the fruit of a whole bunch of sewing into relationships that haven’t always been easy.

I believe that part of this job is fostering the whole family, and I’m committed to doing it, even when it’s hard. But I’m grateful for days like today when I’m reminded of why it’s important, of why it’s worth it. I’m grateful for days like today when the people I’ve worked to love, show love in return.

A word to the mamas making their way to church with screaming babies and squirming toddlers and trauma-ing kids and eye-rolling teenagers: What you’re fighting for is worth it. You may barely sing a song, hardly hear a word, not even be able to
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Rejecting the Either + the Or and Choosing Both

Rejecting the Either + the Or and Choosing Both
Trauma Training Isn't Enough

Trauma Training Isn't Enough
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