I need to say something to you, in case no one ever has. If you’ve said goodbye to a beloved foster child, I want to affirm what you already know and live: Your loss is real and your pain is deep and your grief is true.

But know this: You’re no more or less for what you do or don’t do for God. If you are His child, you are as beloved as the super hero foster parent, riding 10 kids deep. If you are His follower, then follow Him in the way He has called you. If you are His, that is the most important thing about you.

This life of mine, it’s out of control. My control. But it is perfectly under the control of the One who’s always, only been in control, all along.

Our kids need us to help them when they’re weak and carry them when they’re struggling.

They need us to be the other person in their “we.”

I believe that God’s Word speaks encouragement & clarity & hope to this journey of foster parenting, and I love getting to share with you the truths from Scripture that carry me. I also love to meet you & hear your stories & hug your necks.

So, adoptive parents, love your children like there’s no difference. But also, remember that there is.

Friends, this is it!! The title & cover & preorder deets of my (actual real life, dream come true) upcoming book, Foster the Family!! 😭

While you’re waiting to open your home or welcome a child into your home, I encourage you to use this time. Use it actively & intentionally, as a time to build your heart & your knowledge & your tool box. Use it to prepare yourself for the kids you’re about to welcome and the families you’re about to serve.

There's this thing that many non-foster parents say to foster parents, and it goes like this: "Oh, I could never do that. I would get too attached. I would fall in love and not be able to give them back." We've all heard it countless times, amiright?

Trauma parenting isn’t as simple as following methods and getting results. It’s a long term process of partnering with our kids in their healing.

I’ve gotten pretty good at the roller coaster of foster care. The strategy: you just choose to get off the roller coaster. You forget about the ups and downs, and you remain with feet planted squarely on the ground. Some would call it denial. But it’s much deeper than that for me. I don’t ignore what’s happening. I remember that God is the One in and above what’s happening. That I have grace to sustain me today, and when tomorrow becomes today, I’ll have grace waiting for me there, too. That truly trusting Him can keep me from the stomach flips of every drop & curve.

You’ve heard me say it countless times about our kids: Trauma changes the brain and body. Today I’m reminding you of this same thing for yourself. Acknowledge the trauma you’ve experienced. Recognize the way it affects you. And be vigilant in protecting and promoting your health and healing.

Yeah, of course, there are a million moments of happy. But for me, the real joy—the kind that keeps you going—isn’t found in these small & sweet times. For me, it’s found by zooming out, seeing the big picture, re-focusing on the purpose & re-orienting to the why.

Sometimes foster parents say the system is broken when they actually mean their hearts are broken. They say things didn’t go in the child’s best interest because they think they’re the “better” interest. Personally, I think we need to be careful not to label something as broken when it’s actually operating the way it should.

It’s really hard helping my kids handle something that I don’t know how to handle myself. I have no recipe for my own grief right now beyond trying to let myself feel sad and remembering & trusting God.

Our very existence as God’s people is rooted in the reality of adoption. “Once [we] were not a people, but now [we] are the people of God.” Once we were fatherless, but now—through His adoption of us—we are the children of God.

Love is a feeling. Love is a choice. Love in both forms is found in foster care.

We grieve as those whose grief has purpose. Those whose grief has affected souls and lives and changed histories. We grieve with the joy of relationship and calling and gain. We grieve with hope.

Mama, remember your child—in all of their emotions and needs, history and complexity. And if, in the remembering, like me, you’re overwhelmed by weight of it, aware of how little you can do to “fix it,” unsure what they need...just hold them in your arms and hug ‘em through it.