Throughout my teenage years and on into young adulthood, my parents shared our home with foster children.
Many days brought the excitement of a Christmas morning as we would run into the house after school to find the gift of a new baby waiting to share a piece of our hearts.
Through these babies I learned of the unspeakable horrors of this world, but I also learned the joy that can come through sharing our love and light with others. I loved to snuggle with them, sing to them, make them laugh, and whisper “I love yous” into their tiny ears. I loved making a difference.
It was with that desire, to give love and make a difference, that later–as a young mother of three–I decided to become a foster parent.
I was still young enough to think that I could save the world but–as I would soon find out–too young to know how.
Because after a year and a half of what seemed to be endless hours spent on my knees asking the Lord to direct me on how to help my family and the two precious little boys who had come into our lives and taken my heart, I found myself–on my birthday–standing in my front yard saying goodbye.
An event that would haunt me to destruction even now were it not for the loving grace of my Savior.
My experience with foster care, and other difficult events in my life, have helped me to understand and cling to the truth that the Atonement of our Savior is our healing balm, the great equalizer.
His grace is sufficient to heal the heart of the mother who–after sobbing at the feet of her children as I prepared to take them home after a visit–still chose drugs over them.
It is sufficient to heal the little boys who–by no fault of their own–had their hearts torn out again and again by those who should have loved them most.
And it is sufficient to heal the one, young enough to think she could save the world, but too young to know how.
I never learned what happened to the two little boys who came into our lives and took my heart. Fruitless online searches have given me hope that perhaps adoption has changed their names. I pray that it has.
Though I may never get answers in this life, I am strengthened by my unwavering hope in Christ. I find hope in His love, hope in His light and hope in His promise when He tells us that–
“I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”
He has graven us upon the palms of His hands and I find hope that it is in those loving hands that my two little boys–now grown men–have, and always will, find their refuge.
