"When the hotline calls with a placement for us, there is usually little time to give much thought to details. The immediacy of the child in the police station, the emergency room, the office or the backseat of the worker's car is all that matters. I act first and react later when I am somewhat anaesthetized by time and distance."
One Small Boat (p. 129) by: Kathy Harrison
*I've been putting off writing this blog entry for a long time because I haven't been able to find the words or figure out what to say. Since this is becoming such a part of our lives, I figure I better just give it my best shot.*
For the last two years, we have been actively involved in something called Foster Parents Night Out, an incredible ministry that uses volunteer power to watch foster kids one night a month so that their foster parents can have a much needed night out. We are now in our second year of coordinating and basically get to throw a party for these kids each month to celebrate them! Through our involvement there and our church's involvement with a citywide initiative called
Embrace Oregon, we have been slowly learning about all the needs in our own community around foster care and the variety of ways people can step in. Our journey so far has been framed by three questions, which I'll expand on a bit below.
Could we get involved?
This was the first question we asked, when we started exploring the options. After being in close relationship with several families who have fostered and adopted, we were able to see firsthand what this could look like. We then were able to think about all the different ways we could step in. We realized it would be difficult for us to be full time foster parents, with our full time work, so we took the step to get trained to be respite providers, to care for kids on the weekends and essentially babysit. After months passed and we heard no follow up, we quickly realized that this was not the avenue for us. While we were having supper with some friends, who are foster and adoptive parents, the woman was sharing with us the need for folks to be emergency shelter care foster parents. She explained a bit more what this looks like- basically being on call during the weekends, where the hotline can call at any hour, and you being willing to house children temporarily over the weekend until Monday morning. She had recently put herself back on the call list, even though her family has four children, to see how often she was called. Let me tell you, it was not infrequent. Luke and I left their home, and weren't able to shake the idea, feeling like God was putting a call on our life together.
How could we get involved?
After that supper, we made phone calls to DHS and learned about what it would take to become certified for this emergency care. We began rearranging things in our lives and shifting priorities, devoting 8 weeks this past spring to the "Foundations" courses that all foster parents must take. We were assigned a certifier who did interviews and home studies with us. It was really happening! I would be lying if I failed to mention that we were called for a placement after we had only attended a few classes. We got our first taste of boundary setting, when we said no, that we wanted to wait until we had completed the courses. On a weekend in June, late night on a Saturday, we got our first call. Several hours later, two children were dropped off at our home and into our care in the dark of the night. The rest is history! We have been called nearly
every weekend that we are in town, and even some of those that we're
not.
How can we not get involved?
Since June, we have had four placements- all sibling sets. Calls usually come in the dead of the night, often when we're exhausted after a long week. I wish I could explain what it's like to get the phone call. Luke's ringtone blares in a silent house, stirring one of us from sleep. In a bleary haze, you answer and the calm, slow talking voice of the hotline case worker is on the other end. It's amazing how quickly you begin to recognize the voices of the folks you speak to often. Makes me wonder what notes are scrawled next to our names on the list- will take siblings, said they wanted 3 and up, but will take 2-17 year olds, can call late night, etc. She explains just enough of the atrocity of the situation, along with the ages of the kids (which sometimes are not correct, we quickly learned), that it is nearly impossible to say no. After we've agreed, then you wait. Time stands still. You are awake and rush around the house, making preparations for who will walk in the door. Sheets on the guest bed, air bed inflated, one of us runs to the Red Box for a kid movie, quick pot of mac and cheese, prayers over our home and each other, knives, alcohol bottles, and any other potential hazards off the counter and locked away. Then, you sit on the couch and wait. Sometimes, it's a case worker. Other times, it's a police officer. Children, wide eyed and exhausted, walk up to our front door. Children coming with bruises on their body, no food in their belly, lice in their hair, walls around their heart, traumatic memories fresh in their mind. Quickly, our weekends drop whatever things we had planned and our focus turns to these children. Feeding them, bathing them, washing clothes, doing homework with them before they go back to school on Monday morning, comforting them when they cry, or playing games with them to distract them for a moment.
Monday morning comes, and one of us loads them up in the car, taking them to the DHS office or their school, in time for class to start. Then, tears stream down our faces and our mind remains full as we try to switch gears to work on a Monday morning. They remain in our hearts and prayers, as small things remind us of the children who have passed through our home.
Once we learn of the reality of these home situations (some of which are more terrible than I ever thought possible), hold these kids in your arms and have them in your home, it's impossible to ignore. It's impossible for us to go back to our former life that centers solely on us and our desires. We realize that what we are able to give is a small thing- it doesn't solve anything. However, it does hopefully give these children a safe place to land in the midst of trauma. Our hope is that we're adding love, and not harm to their little lives.
The need is huge and the willing are few. Friends, please pray and consider how you might get involved in loving these most vulnerable children all around us. We have been changed mightily through our involvement so far, as God continues to show us what it means to care for the least among us.
It comes as no surprise that finding families willing to open their doors to the rigors of foster parenting is so hard. Fostering means knowing about things most of us would prefer to forget. It means recognizing that our best is often not good enough. It means only knowing the difficult beginnings of a story and being forced to imagine the end. It means loving children who will ultimately leave us, then drying our tears, and letting ourselves love again." (p. 50)
One Small Boat
