Have you ever seen a woman crying while driving? Did you see one on 70th & Van Dorn today? Yeah, that was me. Driven to big elephant tears by adoption and foster care and a multitude of stories that mix beauty with sadness, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The alternative was crying on the physical therapy table while getting my elbow iced. I’m relieved I made it out to the car first.

I started off the day reading this post by the very talented Renee Welstead. Renee will always be the amazing photographer who taught me a lot (I can almost hear her voice when I’m working), but more recently I’ve watched Renee and her equally talented husband Ben as they walked through the foster care system and right into adoption. We’re running in different circles these days but every time I get a glimpse of their personal lives I pray for them and cheer them on. I love what they are doing.

And then there is Maralee and the story of her day with her second son Danny. I knew about this situation before she blogged about it, but goodness, the story still slayed me. Her Danny and my Liv have a lot in common. Livia, at age four, also said things about her biological family that completely threw me and Jeremy for a loop. Very early on we’ve all had to think about how to convey the truth of adoption as well as build strong family foundations. This can be so hard—adoption can be so hard at times! And yet, so worth it as well. Obviously worth it as well.

I’ve been hearing stories of foster kids lately and one particular story, combined with Maralee’s blog post that I read on the PT table, broke me down. The specifics of it can’t be shared due to confidentiality for a state ward, but people, your hearts would be broken if you knew what some kids go through.

I am the first to admit that working in foster care scares the tar out of me. Abuse and neglect can’t help but change a person and cause damage that will alter their lives. The honest truth is that some kids will be able to heal significantly with therapy and lots of love and stability, and other kids won’t be able to bounce back so easily. The longer a child is in an abusive situation the more damage is incurred on their minds and bodies. As I’ve been reading and learning and digging deeper into foster care, I’m feeling so inadequate for the job that lies ahead. I am scared. I am nervous. I am wondering what God might ask Jeremy and me to do.

Just as I am feeling completely broken for the kids in my state who have been injured by the adults in their worlds, I remember that God is bigger than all this. His love for his children knows no bounds and his heart was the first that was broken for these kids. He loves them. Adores them. Knows their every need and carries each of their tears. He is the Deliverer, the Redeemer, the Rock and our salvation. At the end of the day, I don’t need to be afraid. God’s got this. I need to faithfully walk forward and serve Him by loving others.

Lord, help all of us working with foster kids. Help us to love fully, to pour ourselves out and then to be replenished by your strength. Amen.