Love, Grace, and Dislike for Foster Care

I lived in the same house for nearly 15 years. Rather, my stuff lived in the same house for nearly 15 years while I made dorm rooms and apartments and summer camp cabins my home. (In an effort of true transparency, much of my stuff still lives with my parents but in a different house; I don’t want them to throw any of it away, but it won’t fit with all my new adult years stuff.)

When my parents put my childhood/teenager home on the market, my closet door was covered with bumper stickers because, at the time, that was the thing. I remember there were also a lot of Journey stickers because that was also a thing. One of the stickers read “I’m not opinionated; I’m just always right.”

I knew everything back then as a teenager and then as an early 20something. And I made sure that everyone around me also knew that I knew everything. I was absolutely lovely.

It’s easy for me to say that was just a phase, but again, in an effort of full transparency, I am still very much this person when it comes to certain things. Most of those things have to do with social work and foster care, but this personality trait of mine also lends itself to my marriage and relationships. I am working on it because this trait isn’t quite as lovely as I once considered it to be (while everyone else held on tightly and hoped the phase would pass swiftly… So sorry this is who I am).

I don’t want to be a foster parent. Even though I clearly know everything about parenting and foster care (because CLEARLY). But really I sort of despise being a foster parent. It’s not that I dislike caring for the children or providing for their needs. This does occasionally get old, especially when I am trying to go to the bathroom or study and there is a never-ending, always off key chorus singing songs from “Frozen” or ones made up. Also? They never do this for my husband, but he is able to laugh and enjoy this torture done to me. It is simply not fair.

My issue with foster care is the system. I mean this as a whole and the smaller pieces involved.  It is against every fiber of my being to allow others to make decisions for me or mine. And when you foster, eventually the children feel like they are yours. It’s not that you want to sever any ties with the family that birthed them but more than you want to fight passionately and completely for only good things to come across these little lives.

I say little lives, and in the numeric age of the children, they are often little. But the experiences… So many of these “little people” have lived more lives than any of us could ever imagine living or wanting to live. Some have gone hungry for days, learned to cook before they could dress themselves, and cared for siblings that are just barely younger than they are. Then there is never-ending change, relationships lost, frustration and anger they have no verbal way to express, and the expectation from so many that they act like regular kids.

And the system doesn’t help this. If you know me at all, you know I can rant with the best of them about this system. I have plenty of ideas on how to fix it but some of those ideas simply are not appropriate for a public forum. (I was once told by a supervisor that I should never be allowed to speak to the press because of some of these ideas. I have, thankfully, gotten better at keeping some of these thoughts to myself. You’re welcome.)

Children were never meant to live these sorts of lives. And I don’t just mean the children currently in foster care but also the ones who exited foster care, had babies, and then watched as the system that hurt them swallowed up the little ones they had thought they could love enough to fix some of their broken places.

The system is not something that should exist. It shouldn’t have to. Though I am grateful it does because every child deserves the opportunity to live in a safe home and to know they are loved. Did you know that animal welfare came before child welfare? So many human lives that were seen as less important while animals were protected. Bless it all.

The system now hopes to protect, but the lines on this are so blurred. How do you know what is best for a child? Is it okay to remove constitutional rights from people by also removing their children and then deciding they are never allowed to parent again. It is just so weighty.

We aren’t called to judge. Only God can do that, really. But with foster care, there are court hearings and a judge presiding. There are overworked and underpaid attorneys and case workers. Many who specialize in the field of social work have left child welfare due to the system and the disgustingly low pay; instead, many states now employ anyone with a bachelor’s degree. I know because I was this person, and looking back now, I do not know how or why I got the job. This simply should not be the case. Knowing what I know now (thanks USC for making me a bit more of a know it all about foster care), I see that it is essential for those with a background in social work to be in this field and no one else. The things at stake are too precious and consuming for anything less.

I am grateful Jesus was present when I was a recent college grad with little knowledge of poverty or struggle. I also am keenly aware that God is good, and that those experiences have reignited this passion for foster care and the forgotten fatherless that is in my belly, heart and mind.

There’s so much talk of fatherlessness but so little action. I think that no one really knows where to start. I also think that, often times, people are afraid of the system in place and don’t want to anger anyone at the top. I’ve tried to do this, but since I have this personality trait of feeling I am always right, I have pushed the envelope professionally and such. I am so grateful God is good and seems to have a hand of protection over me, even though I am sure I cause him some headaches and lots of mutterings about “what is this daughter of mine thinking?”. I’m comfortable with that that…. I think.

Additionally, I think fatherlessness and poverty on American soil is easy to forget. We forget that these stories exist around us. We push them out of our mind. We stay in our bubbles and protect ourselves. We go on missions overseas to paint orphanages and play with children, but we don’t volunteer at the local shelters or purchase new linens or mattresses for the worn out beds. By no means do I want to elicit shame on anyone. I am just as guilty. I walked away from child welfare and the grueling work. I talked about things but didn’t honor anyone with the way I spent my time. I am in need of these reminders as much as anyone else.

So, yes, like I said I don’t want to be a foster parent. I am so tired of having to ask permission or so many things. I am exhausted from waiting on other people. And I really hate that there is no definitive plan to my life, that I can’t control or anticipate anything. I think God probably loves this because it is forcing me to run to Him and forcing me to trust Him since I can’t seem to navigate things the way I feel they should go.

I want nothing to do with this side of life. It would be easy to just move on, but I would never be able to forget. I wrestle with this daily and if I can even go one more day as a foster parent. Ask my friends and my husband. They know. They get the texts and the sobbing in the bathroom phone calls.

Of course, I don’t want to admit that I hate foster care. I don’t want this frustration to translate to any families. It is solely reserved for the system. I also feel quite guilty that I can’t be this adorable, ever affirming foster mother but instead fall into the category of “spicy with a side of salty” in how I operate. I also struggle when I am told how “amazing” I am because I feel like I am living this lie and double life as there is a war waging inside of me daily.

But I also believe it essential to admit my frustrations so they don’t fester and splatter, burning whoever is standing too close to the boiling anger I often have. Because my frustration with the system should not harm anyone walking life out with me. And because others need to know hos frustrating the system is. Those in the system need to know it is okay to be angry and to fight for something better.

I used to think everyone should foster. There is enough need for it after all. I completely retract that. This stuff is FREAKING HARD. And not all of us should do it. I daily wonder if I am even remotely cut out for it.

But we can all serve. We all have to step into it somehow to alter the system. The system has to change before any additional damage is done to the lives of parents and children and case workers and all those other people who somehow find themselves in the world of foster care.

Jesus never wanted systems to rule. He wanted people and love and grace. All those things should be a part of the system and humanize it in such a way that loving and lasting changes happen. If we can strengthen this generation, the next generations will be better off.

I may not be right about how to fix it all. (That was so hard for me to write.) Or right about my specific place in it all. And I get all too riled up and beyond with the system and the impact it has on my life. (Did I mention I am bent towards selfishness? Because I so am.)

Something has to change. I have considered this for so long. I have hidden from it. Chewed and wrestled with it. Cried out to God about it. Gone to the church about it. Waited for someone else to fix it. Begged for help. And still so little happens. 

Click above watch Remember My Story (Removed Part Two)

I want to try being less right and more open. I want to let go and open my hands up to Jesus. I want to see the world change so that foster care doesn’t have to exist. I want children to have full bellies and whole brains and mended hearts. I want all of this because it is essential to the world and because it is what every person and child should have.

I’m not lovely or meek when it comes to this all. I am a snotty and crying mess that tends to mimic the roars of a lion versus the baa’s of a lamb. I am never going to be lovely or meek; just ask my husband as he often (rightfully) blames my tendencies for any grey hairs poking through. But I am firm in my belief and resignation and desire to see real, true change take this world by storm.

just passing through

We celebrated a very special birthday of a very special child this weekend. It was a few weeks late, and the party itself was put together at the last minute. (I have a long ways to go in the world of motherhood.) But still it came together beautifully.

One of the hardest things with foster care is the knowledge that the kids you care for, shop for, pray over, and love are never really yours. It could be said that no child is every really yours as there is never a guarantee on what will happen. But this is even more true with foster care.

Knowing they aren't yours, recognizing that they could leave at any time, is terrifying. And heartbreaking. Because for the time they are in your house you do all the things you would do for your "own" child. (And if you don't, then you shouldn't be a foster parent.)

We had a cake for the party. Minimal decorations. A fruit dish, a veggie tray, and Chik-Fil-A nuggets. There were drinks as well, and lots of laughter. It was a combination of friends from church, our family, our kids birth family, and friends from OKDHS. Without the two kids we've been entrusted to care for, many of us had nothing in common.

And yet we all spent just over two hours together at the park. The sun blazed down around us, but we were protected by a pavilion. A nice breeze came off the pond, and we found enough things to do to actually entertain a 2-year-old (and slightly overwhelm her by the amount of gifts she received).

It's hard not to be attached. To not want to interject ourselves as the family. But what I continue to find, mostly by reminding myself and our teenage foster daughter, is that we are here to serve whatever role it is that these two girls need. If that's to be a foster mom only, then that is what we are. If it's to serve a role of NiNi and PopPop, as we do to the 2-year-old, then that is what we are. Our relationships and purpose are not clear. And that's okay - so long as both girls can look back at this point in time and know they were fiercely loved, fiercely protected, and put first.

Every person deserves those things. I would say every child, but I am learning, more and more, that the teenager we have is not a child but a young woman. And it is my job to ensure she has all the tools she needs to continue a successful life long after my direct presence in her life has disappeared.

It's hard to be in this position. To sometimes be the most hated person in the room. But it is also worth it when I catch glimpses of smiles, when I hear the way a 2-year-old stakes her claim on me as "my {her} NiNi," when I watch our family touch others with our story, and when I realize that by laying myself down I am opening up a whole new world and creating a life for myself.

My entire life is overcome with a need to care for the orphaned and the fatherless. And while exhausting, I simply can not see any other way. I want every birth mother, birth father, adoptive mother, adoptive father, foster mother, and foster father (as well as all the other important relationships) to know they matter. Because we all do matter. And how blessed for a child who was once fatherless to all of a sudden have so many people who fiercely love them.

the most hated person in the room

I am the social worker. Often I am the most hated person in the room. The one responsible for ripping families apart and placing children into foster care. I take recommendations to the court and am then at the mercy of the judge and whatever decision he may make. I have been the social worker for almost five years now. It is a role I never meant to play, and yet, it is a role I know I was born to play.

I am a foster parent. A non-relative kinship foster parent caring for a 17-year-old and a 2-year-old. Often I am the most hated person in the room. The one who is not quite a parent but also more than a friend. I care for a child who does not belong to me and work with a broken system. I hear insults hurtled my way and am constantly reminded that I do not have a family of my own. That I am not the "real" family to the children in my home.

My entire life is foster care and adoption. When I go to work, I do so as a social worker. Both for a private adoption agency and then also at a state run group home. When I return home, it is to foster care where I provide all the necessities to a child that could be gone tomorrow.

There are times when I wish my life were different. Time when I wonder why God has etched foster care and adoption so deeply into my heart. Times when I truly wish I had a real desire to have a normal family - the kind of family that involves marriage and then a baby that looks like me in the baby carriage.

But I do not have that desire.

Instead, I desire to have children who look nothing like me. I want the sort of family that makes no sense to anyone else. I want to invite children of all ages into my home and love them the way Jesus loves me knowing that they might walk away from me or be taken away from me. I also want to love the broken families - the ones that have somehow wound up in the broken system that is foster care.

And I want to love others like me. The ones that struggle daily to not snap at the children that do not belong to them. The ones that aren't sure how to handle a screaming and crying child that can not be consoled following a visit with their "real" family. The ones who never meant to do this but were thrust into foster care.

God has placed a burden on my heart. It is one I can not ignore even though I have tried and tried. It has been just over five years since I first became the social worker, and I have spent every day of the past five years running from the field. Once I stopped running in June of this year, God allowed my heart to burst for those who find themselves fostering and adopting as well as for those who find themselves in need of foster care and adoption.

It has been just over a month since we received placement of our two girls. A month of adjustment. A month of conversations. A month of trying to be a mom while also making sure not to take place of the birth mom. A month of my heart breaking for all the other children who do not have a place to call home. A month of wondering if I can truly do this. A month of praying and allowing God to lead more than I ever have.

And in the days of being both a foster parent and a social worker, I have seen that it works. I have seen changes in our girls. I have felt my heart swell with pride when the 17-year-old explained that my entire life is foster care and adoption. Not because it's me but because ultimately God gets the glory in the story. And because my story just might speak to someone else and spur in them a desire to help.

We do this because He has called us to it. I am able to foster because He has given me the strength. I am able to be the executive director of an adoption agency because He has blessed me with the knowledge and experience.

I have no idea where this adventure will take me. It could be to graduate school at the University of Southern California. It could be eventually back to the Oklahoma Department of Human Services. It could be somewhere else entirely.

Wherever it takes me, I am prepared to be the most hated person in the room because I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that God created me to be both a social worker and a foster parent.

i will wait for you

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thanks to the lovely laurie for capturing this photo

When we decided to build a house, we did so knowing that we weren't just building a house. We were building a home. And we knew that home would eventually be filled with children. We also agreed (IE: I decided) that we would wait at least a year to fill said house with children. I wanted to enjoy the house. I wanted to spend time in the house just the two of us.

They say that if you want God to laugh then all you need to do is tell Him your plans. I've made Him laugh a lot in my lifetime. And I know He was rolling on the floor in laughter when I vehemently said no to fostering any earlier. In fact, a year was stretching it for me. I wanted to wait until my age started with a 3.

A lot has happened over the past two months. And needless to say God has utterly ruined my life and my plans. I've had a lot of moments. And a lot of thoughts. And a lot of overwhelmingness. My husband has been a rock through it all, with little to no reaction, because he has just been waiting for me to be ready. For me to stop saying not right now or never going to happen.

We still have a long ways to go. And a lot of paperwork to get through. But hopefully in May we will have a few children in our house.

It's difficult because I won't be able to share a whole lot on the blog. We're planning to foster, and with foster care, there are a lot of rules of what you can and can not post. I know them well, and I know I have to follow them - even if it kills me not to share what is one of the most exciting times of our lives.

Here's what I can say. A situation has presented itself, and we know that now is the time. We've told our parents and our close friends. We've sought prayer and counsel from our church. We've prayed a LOT. And we've discussed the matter with the people this decision affects - the children we plan to bring into our home. And it's real now. All too real.

And I simply can not wait to be able to open our doors and have new additions to our family. They might not be in our home for long, but they will always be a part of our family.

So we need prayer. For my anxious heart because this waiting game is not one I am good at. For direction on how to move forward. For items like a convertible crib, bedding, dressers, high chairs, car seats, etc. For skills to parent.

After these two are gone, there will be more. I'm not sure if the more will come right from foster care for another temporary stay or if we'll look into more permament options. I just now that it's time.

So there you have it. We are parents to be - just not sure when. We are growing our family in the way we feel is right for us. We are listening to the call and burden God had placed on our hearts.

And we are more excited than I ever thought possible.

Have any questions about our decision to foster? Or want to know other ways you can help? Feel free to leave me a comment or send me an email. I'll do my best to answer all questions in a follow-up post (leaving out identifying information of course).

NOTE: This blog will not become a parenting or family blog at this time. I'll be keeping most stories to myself and our close circle to protect the children and our family - even though my heart is already bursting with excitement and a desire to talk about how wonderful these kids are.

(title from "i will wait" by mumford and sons)

a little about me (influence network link up)

It's late in the day today. I've spent the majority of the day wanting to write but not knowing what to write. Writer's block.. it's a real thing. And it is so not my friend.

I considered doing Weight Loss Wednesday, but I need a break from that. The scale's not moving at all. Or maybe it is moving - just in the wrong direction.

A few weeks ago, I joined the Influence Network. I have been beyond blessed by the network and the forums in the short amount of time I've been a member. So, after a lot of thinking and sleeping through my alarm this morning and then watching a terrible movie, I think I finally have something to say and am linking up with a whole lot of beautiful, amazing women for The Influential Women Link Up.

The guidelines are simple: 3 things about yourself. 1 thing you've learned on the Network. 1 photo that you love of yourself.

1. Until recently (read: today), I thought I really never wanted to have kids. My husband and I have discussed fostering and adopting since our wedding in 2008. But I've constantly said not yet. I even mapped out a timeline for myself and how long I wanted to be married before having kids. And I never had that huge, heartbreaking desire to have children at home. I just didn't think it would ever happen to me.

A lot has changed lately. God's taken a rough, frustrating, exhausting, crappy situation (knee surgery) and turned it into a life changing experience. An experience that left me wanting to have a baby to love on. Does that mean we're going to jump right into starting our own family right now? Not necessarily. But it does mean that I know it is something I want. And that's something I know God will honor. In the words of Jen Hatmaker: If you are for the orphan, God is for you.

2. I will never be a runner. But I will be an athlete (again) soon. Still I will always and forever love doing things like The Color Run and The Dirty 30. I can't wait to take part in those activities once I am able. And I can't wait to remind people that they can still participate even if they aren't physically able to run.

(I chose this picture because it reminds me of how much fun I had with my mom when we were in Tulsa for The Color Run. And I look genuinely happy in it. Being pelted with colored powder does that to a person.)

3. When I feel like God is making clear the direction I should go, I often find myself stuck. Like right now (see point #1). I feel like He is opening up doors for me with writing and a few other items. Earlier this week, I was all set to write. But now that I have direction I am exhausted and battling a case of writer's block that is preventing me from spending hours upon hours writing.

It will pass. It always does. And I am teaching myself to push past it which would be a lot easier if I could consume countless cans of diet coke in the process.

4. I'm throwing in a bonus statement. Just because I feel like it needs to be said.

I am a social worker. At my heart and the core of my being, I am a social worker. It is hard and messy and exhausting and not something I delve into a lot. But it has (and is) preparing me for the rest of my life. I didn't go to college for it, but I truly believe God put me on this path for reasons I may never comprehend.

When the day comes that I am not working as a social worker, I will still be one at my core. This means I will always fight for social justice, for children, for the homeless, against human trafficking, etc. My faith is the only reason I've been able to be in the field for the past 5 years; drinking wine (which is what a lot of people do) just doesn't take care of the ache in your soul following the things I've seen.


The biggest thing I love about the Influence Network is the women who are a part of it. There is so much talent in the network. And it helps to bring out my creativity. I also love seeing so many people live for Jesus. That has helped me to be more bold in my faith, and it has reminded me of just how BIG God is. I'm excited to meet more people through the network and continue to share my life.