The Forgotten Podcast

There is a lot of pain and turmoil throughout our nation for our black and brown brothers and sisters. I've been wrestling with it, trying to be still and listen as I continue to learn. I've been having conversations with friends who are gracious to share their experiences with me. As a white adoptive mom of brown and black kids, I know that I have an added responsibility to prepare my kids for what culture may say to them. I realize that I can't speak to them from my personal experience on this specific issue, which is difficult for me. I already hurt for them with the pain and loss they experience surrounding their adoptions, and knowing that they may also be affected by racism hurts. I'm thankful for tools like Trillia Newbell's children's book, God's Very Good Idea, that help me frame our conversations around God's truth. In our conversation together, and in her book, Trillia centers her thoughts about race and diversity around God, his good designs for people, where it all went wrong, and why there is still hope.

Today we're diving into foster parenting expectations! Austin and Larisa Savage, a great young couple, joined me in the studio to talk about what their foster parenting experience has been so far. They are one year in, and their story comes with a unique twist, but one thing is for sure, foster parenting has not been what they expected! Preparing for the unknown is hard, but I think this conversation is a great step in the right direction. I often say about adoption, "Expect the unexpected." The same is true for foster care. Refining expectations is the name of the game! Austin and Larisa have walked where you are going, or maybe already are, and they're ready to share their experience with you!

Two hearts moving towards the same end goal at the same speed isn't always the way it works itself out in marriage. God has wired each of us differently, and there is beauty in that. And yet, when one spouse has a deep passion that the other doesn't share to the same degree, it's challenging to know how to move forward. We see this in the decision of whether or not to become foster parents. Sometimes, both spouses agree, but more often than not, God nudges one spouse forward before the other. What do you do then? Jason Johnson and I have some thoughts that will help you navigate this windy road. It never feels good to be the nagging spouse, and it also isn't fun to be the one being nagged. We can actually come out stronger and more united as a couple if we're willing to slowly take steps forward in this important decision, and we're ready to share more about what those steps are.

Today's conversation is hard. I just need to tell you that from the get-go. Foster care always comes with some level of brokenness—that I've come to recognize. I wish that brokenness wasn't a thing. I wish we were living in a world that didn't know sadness or pain. As I listened to Bianca tell her story of enduring sexual abuse and then entering foster care, I felt the heaviness with her. She suffered at the hands of those meant to protect her, and her story doesn't have the ending that I wish it did. Yes, Bianca has gone on to do incredible things, to achieve in ways that showcase her commitment and drive. I wanted more closure for her. I wanted justice to work itself out in her story. I wanted Bianca to tell me that though she experienced incredible pain and shame because of sexual abuse, that she has been vindicated under the law. I am thankful for Jesus working in her life. I am thankful for the therapy she received. I am thankful that she sees the purpose in her pain, that God showed her she had to keep going, to be a beacon of light to others. I am thankful for the education and success she has had. And I grieve that she suffered. I need you to listen with me, to sit with me in her story, so that we can walk away with a better understanding of how we might be able to step in, to identify warning signs for other children, and to know how to walk with victims.

The last few months of various levels of isolation and quarantine have been a challenge for all of us, I know. For my family, the additional time together hasn’t always yielded the best results. We’ve been more impatient with one another, struggled through some conflict, and had to problem solve in new ways that we didn’t have to before quarantine. Yet, ultimately, we all feel safe and loved. But this is not the case for so many in my community and around our world. For many families, the level of stress has soared to its highest levels. With employment changes—either forcing parents home or leaving parents unemployed—the toll on family life has been hard. Combined with fewer outlets for childcare and extra activities, families are at risk and have fewer eyes on them to make sure everyone is safe. As we move towards the school year—whatever that looks like in your area—more kids will be seen and heard. With that lens, my friend and today’s guest, Molly Evans, talks about how to spot warning signs of abuse and neglect. It’s not easy to talk about, but if we’re going to care for families, it means speaking up so that more support can be given.

We became a big family suddenly through foster care—growing by 3 kids in 5 months and doubling the number of children in our home. Not long after, we added one more to our crew through our second international adoption, rounding out the total to 7 children. Growing up, I wanted to be a mom, but I didn't anticipate I'd be a mom to 7! Parenting has its unique challenges. Parenting children who have experienced trauma has its challenges. And parenting 7 children comes with its own level of chaos. I can say for certain that I don't do it perfectly; I've learned some tips and tricks along the way. So, if you're like me and trying to create order in your home and need new strategies, this one is for you. You don't have to be a mom of 7 to implement these tips. Choose what's right for you and your family. I had the chance to share this message at The Replanted Conference last fall, but I want to let you in on it, too. We are better when we share with one another.

Since his very first memory, life for my guest, Gaelin Elmore, has been about the struggle for control. He couldn't control his parents' addictions. He couldn't control whether he went into foster care. He couldn't control where and with whom he was placed. He couldn't control what happened inside the home. He could only control his own behaviors, so that's what he held onto tightly. It was a way to cope, to temporarily ease the pain. What Gaelin didn't anticipate was that there were people, and far greater, a God who was worthy of his trust. He didn't have to be the one to muster up the strength on his own, but God in his kindness was there, holding him through all the hard. His trauma displays itself in relationships with people still, but Gaelin is not without hope, and he's running hard after the one who was in control the whole time.

I don't know what it's like to struggle with infertility, and it may or may not intersect with your story, but here's what I do know, the emotional, physical and spiritual pain that comes with infertility is worthy of our conversation. We have to go there. We have to talk about it, because it's a reality for so many foster and adoptive parents or those considering it. We have to be givers of grace to each other, willing to sit with each other in the pain without trying to solve the problem. It could be easy for those of us who are passionate about foster care to jump to a fix of "you should become a foster parent" for our friends struggling with infertility, but that may or may not be their best option. So, hear me in this—that’s not our intent. Today, we're diving into Caroline's story of infertility simply to open the conversation of how to determine if that is the right next step for you and how we can compassionately walk with our friends through infertility.

With the demands of parenting, time spent connecting with your spouse can easily be moved to the back-burner. It's a slow progression of choices and unintended consequences of decisions made. You intend to have that conversation with your husband, but with the caseworker coming over for a home visit today, it gets pushed lower on the priority list. Interruptions bring a change in plans, and suddenly, you haven't been able to have a date night in months. In our foster parenting journey, and now, raising a big family, I know my time with my husband, Clint, is so valuable. I am so thankful for our time together when it comes every other Tuesday night, but early on, I wasn't as good at protecting that time on the calendar. I allowed it to be moved, thinking we could make it up at some other time and then another week would pass without an intentional time to connect. I recently talked with Jill Savage about this, and why it's actually good for our children for us to invest in our marriages.

Abuse is not okay. As I listened to my guest, Desiree Moore, share her story, saying, "I'm sorry" didn't feel like enough. Adopted at the age of three, she suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to be her protector. She wanted to escape but didn't dare speak up. Foster care entered into her story at the age of seventeen as a welcomed relief. Throughout her journey, though, she longed to meet her biological mother. Years spent fantasizing about her and what that relationship would be like left her feeling confused and disappointed when the time finally did come for them to meet. I was so proud of Desiree for sharing, and I know that what she learned in meeting her mom will help us too.