“Whoever welcomes one of these children, welcomes Me." ~ Mark
9:37
When the most stable thing in your
life has plastic eyes, there's a real problem.
Some kids have it worse, but her home was violent and
chaotic. Mom would serve the meal and dad
would ruthlessly criticize. Kelsie ate
in mock oblivion; anything to keep her eyes off their hating faces. Nothing could drown out the shouting. Even at six, Kelsie knew "Armageddon"
was coming to their house soon.
The night they were “removed,” she and her younger brother Cody
were told they wouldn’t be going back home. Terrified at the thought of Foster Care, Kelsie
began mentally preparing herself for how best to protect them from an uncertain
future.
The new family seemed nice enough. They smiled a lot. In her world, there’d been no smiles, no
gentle eyes, no cheerful looks.
Their other kids seemed fine with two new ‘siblings.’ The family ate and prayed together nightly at a dinner
table. She quickly learned some formal
manners and the ‘how-and-why’ of teeth brushing.
At her bioparents’ place they didn’t own many clothes, so
they kept wearing the same things every day.
In this home, there were lots of clean shirts and pants and underwear.
These parents showed a genuine interested in what was happening
in her world. They asked to see her homework
and if she did well on a test or an assignment, they displayed it proudly on
the refrigerator. No one had really
listened to her before.
Tonight they went for Slushies after soccer practice. When Dad hit a pothole, Cody spilled his cherry
drink all over himself . . . and the back seat.
Dad stopped the car and immediately opened the door on Cody’s side.
Kelsie gasped as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. From deep within the respite of her
subconscious, she remembered the ceramic vase she’d accidently knocked from the
table . . . the screaming that ensued . . . and the beating her bio dad
inflicted. This could end badly she
thought.
Foster Dad looked at Timmy, wiped the mess from his shirt
and laughed. Then he did something strange. Taking what was left from his own cup, he
poured its contents on the seat too.
“Now it’s rainbow flavored,” he said with an impish
grin. “Accidents happen. We don’t cry over spilt Slushies.”
Kelsie relaxed for the first time in months – she was
finally home.
Here’s three quick tips for exceptional parenting: 1) tender
(appropriate) touch; 2) unhurried time; and 3) encouraging talk.
Father in Heaven, help make me a better parent. Help me to understand my children, to listen
patiently to what they have to say, and to nurture in them the gifts that
You’ve placed. Let goodness and mercy
follow them throughout their lives. Amen
