I remember when the thought first struck me. I was watching a local TV segment about children waiting to be adopted in our area. They were interviewing a teenage boy about what kind of family he was looking for. He mentioned how he liked to hunt and fish, so the reporter said something to him like, “So you’d really like a dad who could go fishing with you?” The teen looked down and said, “Yes. And I’d like a mom, too.” I cried. I’m crying now, just writing it.
There is something heartbreaking about the kids who are old enough to know they need a family, but are likely too old to find one. I can’t imagine being in a place in life where I knew I needed a mother, I wanted a mother, but there was no one that wanted to be a mother for me. This is a reality for far too many kids in foster care and for people who age out of the foster care system.
A large percentage nationally of our homeless population are former foster youth. If you’ve been bounced around your whole life, who cares for you once the state no longer takes responsibility for you? Who gives you wisdom? Where do you go for Christmas?
The other night I was leading an adoptive parent support group and we went around the circle to find the majority of our adopted children had biological parents who had been foster kids themselves. It isn’t hard to see how this cycle keeps going. If you weren’t parented well as a child, how do you know how to parent a child of your own? Who do you have to turn to for support?
It’s easy to have compassion on little, helpless children who have been victimized. My perspective began to shift as I realized most of the adults I knew who were making choices I couldn’t understand were once helpless children who had been victimized. As adults, they now have choices to make and they carry that responsibility, but when so many devastating choices were made for you, do you even really believe you can make the choice to change?
I have so much more compassion now than I used to have for the adults who may feel like they’re stuck in a cycle of destructive choices they can’t figure out how to get away from. That compassion leads me to act.
Too many people feel disconnected from care and community. There are undoubtedly people in your circle and mine who need a family. Turning 18 doesn’t mean you don’t need a mom. Becoming a parent doesn’t mean you no longer need support yourself. There are many challenging waters to navigate in adulthood and we all need a soft place to land. We all need someone to call when things are rough.
Maybe you’ve never felt called to adoption. Maybe your baby days are long past or you don’t know that you can financially take on the needs of one more child. But could you be the family for someone who needs it? Could you invite someone to Christmas dinner? Could you sit next to someone at church who needs to know they aren’t alone? Can you get past the awkwardness and give someone a hug who may not get any other physical affection this week?
When we become the hands and feet of Jesus to a hurting world, that often looks like creating family out of lonely strangers who need one. And sometimes we are the lonely strangers too. Knowing that void in your own life can motivate you to create the community you need.
I won’t say this is without struggle. If you’ve never had a family of your own, do you know how to be part of one? If the family you did have was chaotic and unsafe, you may just bring some chaos with you when you are invited into someone else’s family. We have to go in with low expectations and a lot of grace and empathy.
But the first step is just to open our eyes to the needs that exist. There are older teens on the verge of aging out and leaving foster care without any ongoing family support. There are young adults around us that are doing their best to keep it together, but need a safe place to fall apart. We have moms parenting alongside us without any healthy models about how to peacefully parent.
You never outgrow the need for a family— for love and support and guidance. What a gift it is to be able to be that family for the one who needs it, whatever their age or stage.