As I shared earlier, we said goodbye to our foster child, Teresa, on Good Friday of 2013. Having her was a painful yet wonderful experience. Here is a sample of the lessons we learned and how we are going about thinking through next steps.
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Our Lessons
Having
Teresa in our home for so long, and having to say goodbye, was the most
difficult and wonderful thing we have experienced as a family. Here are some
lessons learned, in no particular order, which may help explain what God taught
us through it all.
1. Love is a
choice. I was raised in a world which taught me that love is a feeling, that it
is something you can’t control. If the chemistry is right a man and a woman
somehow fall in love and get married. And if something goes wrong and the love
dies, the husband and wife part ways. But love isn’t like that at all. Love is
a choice. This is a simple reflection on how God loves us. When we are pointed
to the love of God the Son, we look not toward his feelings for us but his
actions toward us: “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us,
and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers” (1 John 3:16).
When Teresa
entered our home for the first time, she was already an adorable bundle of
energy. We didn’t know if we would have her for one month or one year. But we
were called to love her. She needed to be loved. She needed to experience the
affection of a mother and a father—even temporary ones like us! I certainly
didn’t feel the love for her, at least at first. Thoughts swirled through my
mind like, “How can I love her when I may have to give her up so soon?” I
grappled with the reality that love is a choice. I wasn’t to love her because
she was mine, or because she was easy to raise, or because she could give me
love in return. I loved her because she needed to be loved.
2. God’s love
is beautiful. We went into foster care expecting to provide mercy for Teresa.
We wanted to rescue her—even if only for a season—from a tumultuous life and
provide her with a safe and loving home, for as long as she needed it. We
quickly learned that our patience would be tested. Teresa was always
jumping—but not always in the direction we wanted. Travel between our home and
visits with her parents left her confused and, at times, angry. She was not
always easy to parent, and she was not always easy to love.
As Deana and
I reflected on the challenge of caring for her, we were reminded of just how loving
and merciful God has been to us. God loved us when there was nothing lovable
about us, “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and
sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:10). And “God shows
his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us”
(Romans 5:8). By folding Teresa into our lives, we learned something of the
tender mercy of God who adopted us as his children simply because he chose to.
His love is beautiful. It is so beautiful, in fact, that it makes the cost of
being a foster care family seem so very small. I love the way pastor John Piper
put it when he expressed his delight in seeing families at Bethlehem Baptist
embrace ministries of adoption:
Few things bring me more satisfaction
than seeing a culture of adoption flourish at our church, Bethlehem Baptist. It
means our people are looking to their heavenly Father for their joy rather than
rejecting the stress and cost of children in order to maximize their freedom
and comforts. When people embrace the pain and joy of children rather than
using abortion or birth control simply to keep children away, the worth of
Christ shines more visibly. Adoption is as far as possible from the mindset
that rejects children as an intrusion.
3. Foster
parents are parents. Parenthood is
about more than biology. Our prayer and our goal was always that Teresa be
reunited with her biological mother or father, assuming that they would provide
her with a safe and loving home. However, that doesn’t change the fact that for
sixteen months, Deana really was a mother to her.
Consider 1
Kings 3. Two women who lived in the same house approached Solomon the king with
a dilemma. Each had a baby and no husband, when one of the babies died. Now
both women were claiming to be the mother of the child who remained alive.
There was no DNA testing, so what was Solomon to do? He instructed the child to
be cut in half and shared equally among them! The true mother cried out against
this horrific decision and urged the king to let the other woman have the baby.
Solomon, however, handed her the child. The king, of course, had no way of
knowing who the biological mother really was. But this he knew—the true mother
would do what was best for the child. Foster moms (and, for that matter, foster
dads) may only be temporary. But that doesn’t change the fact that they really
are parents. Their willingness to put that child’s interests above their own is
the only qualification they need.
4. The
church is a family. When Teresa joined the Menikoffs, she became a part of our
church. The entire congregation loved her, prayed for her, and welcomed her
with open arms each and every week. There are so many ways to serve a foster
family. Her teachers greeted her with enthusiastic smiles. Several members went
through a background check so that they would be cleared by the county to
babysit. One family even went through the process of having a home study done
so that Teresa could be left at their house. Many more people regularly asked
how we were doing, and let us know of their support. We speak a lot about the
church as a family, but having Teresa gave us a front row seat.
One of the
greatest lessons we learned about the church as a family is how much we needed it.
We simply could not have cared for Teresa on our own. Both Deana and I are
independent. It is hard for us to ask for help. The demands of navigating the
foster care system with its restrictions on babysitting and travel left us in
great need. We were reminded of what we already know: the church is a family,
and we need the family. The members of the body weren’t just serving Teresa;
they were serving us.
5. All
parents are called to give up their children. After raising Teresa for sixteen
months, it really felt like she was ours. We knew with our head that this
wasn’t the case, but apparently our head had stopped communicating with our
heart. In the beginning loving her felt like a choice, and it was. But joy
followed that choice. She was a member of our family. We knew she would leave
us eventually, and that is what we were preparing for. We wanted to bless her
biological parents by giving her the best home possible while she was with us.
However, it seemed like “eventually” would never come.
Then, one
night, we received a call. She would be moving in with her father in one week. Those
last few days we realized that, in a sense, all parents are called to give up
their children. We raise them to let them go. We prepare them to make wise
decisions in the waters of a world that are difficult to navigate. With foster
care, you just have to be prepared to say goodbye sooner. It helps to remember
that, ultimately, Teresa didn’t belong to us, and our biological children don’t
really even belong to us. They were not made in our image, but they were made
in the image of God. They belong to him. We try to take good care of them for
as long as we have them, and that’s all we can do.
6. Saying
goodbye to a foster child is traumatic. We planned as best as we could for her
departure, but there was no way to be ready for the silence that flooded our
home the morning she left. A few weeks before, I was taking a walk with a
friend who told me that losing a foster child was a little bit like
experiencing a death. I looked at him incredulously. How could he really equate
sending a foster child to go back to her biological family with death? But he
was right. Obviously, if she had been removed after a shorter period of time,
it would not have been so hard. But sixteen months was long enough for us feel
the sting of her absence.
7. The
gospel really is enough. I have mentioned already that the gospel motivated us
to become part of the foster care system. That’s not to say that I believe
everyone should be a foster parent or pursue adoption. It is simply to say that
God’s saving work in our lives is what gives us a desire to serve him, to serve
our church, and where the opportunities arise, to serve those outside the
church. But the gospel did more than motivate us toward foster care; it
sustained us through foster care, even to the point of saying goodbye to
Teresa.
Because of
the gospel we are convinced that all of our needs have been taken care of by
God. We never have to worry because our biggest enemy (sin) has been put to
death (Galatians 5:24). And we never have to fear because our future is secure
(Hebrews 12:22-24). The trials in this life are minor in comparison to what we
faced (the wrath of God for our sins) and trivial in comparison to what we can
expect to face (the perfect presence of a holy God who loves us). So whether it
was the difficulty of learning how to manage life with a child who wasn’t truly
our own, the uncertainty of not knowing how long she’d be with us, the reality
that she was leaving, or facing the fact that she had left, God did not leave
us alone. He prepared us to face these trials by reminding us that the most
important work had been taken care of. Jesus bore the punishment that we
deserved so that we could be free to live a life that pleases him. Now we are
simply called to be faithful with the days before us, entrusting all the results
to God.
That’s why I
say that the gospel really is enough. I’m thankful for the grace God gives his
people to endure difficult things. And though I know that saying goodbye to a
foster child is a small trial when set against the tragedies so many face, it
was, nonetheless, our trial, and one we needed the Lord’s help to bear.
Our Future
As best we
can tell, Teresa is adjusting well. She is with her dad, she is near some
extended biological family, and she is adjusting to life in a new home. For
that we are very thankful. Though the story is not over, not every foster tale
has such a promising ending.
Even as I
write these words, our family is praying about whether or not to see Teresa
again. We want to do what is best for her. At two and a half she doesn’t
understand deeply, and were we never to see her again she would eventually
forget us. But it would please us to be part of her life in some form or
fashion and perhaps even to be an encouragement to her family as well. We want
dad to understand why we became foster parents, our love for Teresa, and our
genuine desire to see him flourish as a parent.
What will we
do next? Time will tell. Our motivations have not changed. Stewardship, love of
neighbor, and the gospel demands that we pour out our lives for Christ. We are
not sure if that means becoming foster parents again, pursuing an adoption, or
simply investing more of our time in our own extended family or as
disciple-makers here at Mount Vernon and in our neighborhood. There is much
good that can be done, and there are many ways to serve. We know service will
look different from person to person, and we are using this break to figure out
what it should look like, going forward, in our family.
Meanwhile,
we wouldn’t give up the past sixteen months for anything. A few nights after
Teresa left, I asked my family a question: knowing what you know now, would you
still have wanted Teresa to stay with us? Everyone said yes. We don’t know
Teresa’s future, but we are grateful that she was with us for so long. Not only
were we able to be family in her time of need, but we were able to share with
her the gospel. Our heart was not only for her physical well-being, but her
soul as well. As Dan Cruver so clearly stated:
The ultimate
purpose of human adoption by Christians, therefore, is not to give orphans
parents, as important as that is. It is to place them in a Christian home that
they might be positioned to receive the gospel, so that within that family, the
world might witness a representation of God taking in and genuinely loving the
helpless, the hopeless, and the despised.
May God give
you a heart for the orphans—inside and outside the church.