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Unbiologically Mine

"Foster kids" don't come with the accolade and applause of newborns. No special celebrations or parties. No gifts from family and friends welcoming them. No 9 months of preparation, planning, painting walls, collecting clothes. Instead, they come with garbage bags holding everything dear to them in the world. They come with dirty clothes, bruised faces, mourning, grieving, fear, sadness. They come unexpectedly. Some with no notice. They come hopeless and helpless. They unpack bags filled with anger, abandonment, neglect, abuse. Shouldn't we show them the same love, the same accolade as a newborn? Don't they deserve more than a cold shoulder and heartless prodding? Questions like, "Where's their 'real' mom?'" Or "Do you get to keep him?" Let's try questions like, "What's her name?" "Is there anything you need?" "Can I pray with you?" My job as a "foster parent" is to wash the dirty, bruised faces, love them as if they were my own, take orders from the state, the lawyers, and yes, sometimes the child's parents. My job is to replace that fear, shame, neglect, sadness with love, hope, joy, peace. Sometimes the journey is lonely. I'm not even asking for the accolade. Sometimes, a hug is enough. Or a phone call to see how I'm coping. An ear to unload some of the hurt I'm carrying for these little ones. A shoulder to cry on when I've done everything I can and it's not enough. The reassurance that God loves these little ones more than me. These are the blessings I yearn for. ~ Krysten Vance, foster mom ■■Please share■■

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