Together.

Together.


Most things in life require sacrifice of some sort. To get one thing you naturally have to give up another.

I knew that going into foster care. Obviously this was going to require a lot of everything. A lot of me. Of Jonathan.

Some of that came easily. Buying more tube yogurt and less Greek yogurt didn’t take much effort.

Other parts were a stretch. My body just doesn’t love mornings. And for some reason, kids’ bodies do.

Thank you God for coffee.

However easy or ugly the shift, many of these changes to parenthood were expected. But caring for children not my own adds an extra twist. Trauma.

And trauma requires more. Of everyone.

And that’s where it hurts. When I’m not just asking of myself or of Jonathan, but I’m asking of others for these precious kids.

Where I change plans with friends. Disrupt holiday traditions with family. Cancel backpacking trips with sisters.

But then in the midst of rainchecks and wasted plane tickets, they respond with messages like this:

Hey, I know you’re just as bummed as I am about missing our weekend. It’s big of you to give up what we were so looking forward to for these kiddos that need you right now (even if they don’t know about or appreciate the sacrifice ;)) fostering isn’t easy; this is just one small way we feel an unfair loss and it’s a good reminder of the unfairness the kids live with every day.

Wow. And all of sudden my guilt and fear turn to thanksgiving and renewed strength. My village is with me. My village is with these kids.

We get to do this together.

 

3 Comments

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  1. Treva

    I know this path and journey you are talking about. My side of my family is broken and they don’t understand why we foster nor care that it takes MAJOR effort day in and out to handle the sort of trauma these children/teens go through on a daily basis. However, my husbands side of the family is caring and understanding. They are amazed at the things we sacrifice just to make ends meet. Going from a family of 4 to a family of 6-8 (at times) can be overwhelming and draining at times. Being a mom, you get the task of being a super ninja mom 24/7…literally! Over our past year, I’ve seen friends and family become distant or even existent, but I’ve learned who is our true, die hard “village.” Keep up the wonderful work you are doing! These children need more hope givers out there!

  2. Anne

    Wow. I definitely know (and cherish) the feeling of being able to lean on your village. Knowing that collectively, you’ve got this, whatever the “this” may happen to be at any given point in time. I think your village is pretty awesome. Sending hugs to all of you.

  3. Kyle

    Oh, how it takes a village! Know that we are here with you! Don’t hesitate to call if you need a break or just a listening ear! Grateful we are on this journey with you guys!

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