Let the Little Children Come

SIDE BY SIDE

Let the Little Children Come

Judy Blumhofer

As a child, my family had an illustrated children’s Bible that depicted Jesus sitting in the shade of a tree, on a rock, with children surrounding him. The caption below the picture stated: “Let the little children come onto me and deny them not, for to such as these belongs the kingdom of heaven.” I was always drawn to that picture. I have always loved working with children, even when I was still a child. At one point in my medical training, I debated whether I should pursue a career in pediatrics or geriatrics, but when I learned that pursuing a career in geriatrics meant I would have to go through various years of treating the general adult population before I’d be allowed to start my geriatrics training, the geriatric option promptly got eliminated.

From then on, I made the decision that my career would focus exclusively on children. I would become a pediatrician and my career would be set. There are clearly plenty of people who become physicians and do that for their life, right?

Note to self: Never assume.

Towards the end of my medical training, I learned about a post-residency program that was part of Samaritan’s Purse. The program partnered with graduating physicians to place them at missions hospitals around the world that needed medical staff. I never in my life had considered serving overseas in a long-term capacity, but I couldn’t get the thought out of my brain. Upon completing my pediatric training, I found myself on the ground in northeastern Honduras.

Note to self: Life is never what you have planned for it to be.

I completed my two-year term with the post-residency program in Honduras and figured I still had a little bit left in me, so I moved over to serve with Christian Health Service Corps, a long-term sending agency, and re-upped to continue in Honduras. Remember, this was me who was never planning on living overseas.

Note to self: God very clearly had different plans.

Shortly after this, a premature infant who had initially been my patient was placed in foster care. I had always been interested in foster care but, when I left the States, I thought that dream had been laid to rest. To my surprise, I discovered that foreigners were allowed to be registered foster parents in Honduras. Casa Santuario, the residential children’s home associated with our hospital’s ministry, got the necessary approvals and that onemonth-old baby boy came to my house. He was only supposed to come for a few months, yet somehow has now been with me nearly seven years.

Note to self: Those months of sleepless nights with newborns are no joke.

Soon, I had other children in my home—sometimes teenagers, sometimes infants. Some stayed for a week, some stayed for a year. Some were physically healthy, some had medical needs. The reasons for coming and the reasons for leaving ran the gamut. But in those years, the Lord started to do a work and grow a passion in my heart not just for the children served in the foster care system, but also for the families caring for them.

In the middle of this, I agreed to do respite care for a malnourished, developmentally delayed six-month-old. For a weekend, mind you. I figured, how hard could 48 hours with an extra baby be? Well, he came for the weekend, and he never left. I kid you not. It has now been 4 1/2 years.

Note to self: I think God’s still chuckling over this one.

As I cared for children in my home, I grappled with so many emotions as I heard their stories and saw how their needs affected my home. I grappled with how the joy I felt at the honor of mothering them came at the expense of another mother’s pain; I grappled with their intense emotional and developmental needs, and not having the resources to provide them; I grappled with severe loneliness as I walked a path that no one else seemed to be walking; I grappled with how I should respond to their big emotions as they tried to make sense of their lives. I also saw, first-hand, how children with so many challenges stacked against them could thrive with the consistent love, routine and attachment that living in a family-setting provided. Do they still struggle? Yes, but thrive, nonetheless.

Note to self: Be careful when you have these big realizations. It usually means God is about to do something.

So, there I am, loving in-home foster care, all about wanting to provide residential care for babies and focus on neuro-socialpsychological development, when the directors of our children’s home announce their retirement. Would I consider serving as the interim director once they left? Me, the pediatrician for life, the one whose career was set. I agreed to the interim position.

I had a whirlwind introduction to my new position as the director of a long-term residential care center (learning admin, legal, educational, social and psych aspects of care plus so much more), and very quickly learned I could not be both the director and a full-time pediatrician if I valued my sanity. I stepped out of my clinical duties at the hospital.

Note to self: Directing a children’s home is more than a full-time job. Waaay more than a full-time job.

Charles Dickens best sums up my “interim” position (which somehow lasted nearly four years) at the children’s home: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” — the joy, the heartbreak; the victories, the losses; the life, the trauma; the courage, the fear. No matter how early children come into care, there are nearly always scars from the circumstances that occurred before they came. Take that fact and multiply it by a whole bunch of kids and, well, it’s a lot.

Yet the Lord used that time to grow something great in me. He opened my eyes to needs that plague the foster system in general and took my eyes from focusing solely on my home to planting a vision in my heart of how to partner with others on this journey and provide them resources, training and understanding as they walk what is so often a hard, complex path. Most of us go into foster care to help; little do we expect that the traumas our children have suffered will traumatize us, and we will become more broken than we have ever been.

Note to self: God never allows brokenness in his children that he will not ultimately use for his glory.

It’s hard to sum up what I have lived, experienced and learned during these years in working within the foster care system. And I am by no means done. I am sure there will be many more lessons to come! The system itself is fractured; over-burdened, under-resourced. Those working in that system face some of the most traumatic stories that exist and have the daunting task of deciding and then administering what is for the best “good of the child,” all while working with other imperfect systems. The need in Honduras is great and overwhelms the system. There are days I am tempted to despair at the dysfunction of it all. But God faithfully reminds me that there are good people working inside this system, and that he is sovereign over it all. For all its dysfunction, he is still in control. And he is caring for these children. Never lose sight of that. The story doesn’t end where the system reaches its limits.Having foster children has brought some of the truest realities to the stark center of my life. Realities like

We are never promised tomorrow. I know that, but I know it on a whole new level when every day could be the day. I receive notice that a child might be leaving my care. It challenges me to live this day to the fullest; if this is the last day I have with my child, did I faithfully show them God’s love for them today? What does it mean to steward those God places in our care? When tomorrow is not guaranteed, I put a whole lot more thought into what that means for right now.

There is no such thing as remaining “unattached.” When I started my foster care journey, many well-intentioned people counseled me not to become too attached to the children for which I cared. Yeah…that doesn’t work. Children need to be attached. And they can’t be if their adults don’t show them how. But let me assure you: God is more than enough to handle your pain if/when that child leaves your care. He can heal you fully. And not just in heaven, but here and now. Go ahead and love. Love with abandon. Love with all the love of Christ.

The love of the Father for the orphaned and fatherless is beyond compare. Loving these children has opened my eyes even more to the heart of the Father for them. “To the fatherless he is a Father…the lonely he makes part of a family.” (Ps 68:5,6, TPT) Being part of the family he forms to care for the fatherless is a sacred privilege. It is not a path that comes without great cost; but it is a path that is well worth it.

Obeying the Lord never looks how we imagine it will. I never planned on being an overseas missionary. I never planned on long-term foster care. And I really, really never planned on all the heartache, tears and brokenness I would experience as I walked those paths. Yes, the Lord provides. Yes, he is abundant in wisdom and gives freely to those who ask for it. Yes, he blesses obedience. Yes, he draws us closer to him as we seek him and obey him. Yes, he binds up our wounds. Yes, he never looks to break a bruised reed. But rest assured, following him on the journey, you will be bruised. You will be persecuted. You will be mocked. You will be hurt. Know his voice. Know his call. It is the only thing that will keep you going.

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps. (Prov. 16:9) There have been so many unplanned circumstances/decisions along the way. At each point, as the life I thought I would have dies a little more, I remind myself it is okay to mourn that loss. But I also must keep my eyes on the Lord and all he is doing. I assumed my medical license would have me providing general, clinic-based care for my entire career. Then, I walked away from clinical practice. For a bit, I thought all that training and learning and work had had its hey-day. Instead, the Lord has used my profession to open doors to me. I have a voice where others don’t. I am called into situations that others aren’t. And now, I find myself being replanted with a new vision that combines medical care with the mental and emotional health of

foster children and their families. Is this uncharted territory for me? Yes. Am I somewhat unsure if I’m competent for this? Yes. But the Lord has chosen me; he has made that abundantly clear. And I rely upon him to establish my steps going forward.

In this month, as we mark world Orphan Day, what can we, as the body of Christ, do for this most vulnerable, beloved population?

Pray

Pray for these children. Pray for them to know their Heavenly Father. Pray for their needs to be met. Pray for others to step up and answer the call and give them families.

Pray for the caretakers. Pray for the Lord of all comfort to be so real to them, and for the wisdom, stamina and faith they will need to care for these children.

Encourage

If you pray for someone you know doing foster care, reach out and tell them. Let them know you see them and you care.

Be Hands On

As a single foster mom to young kids, the number one thing I long for is a night off of bedtimes. Some states have strict rules about who can care for foster children, others, not so much. But offer those foster parents a break. You might need to be creative depending on the regulations but trust me…it will speak volumes that words never will be able to.

Listen and Offer Empathy

Guaranteed, every family caring for foster children has had some rather harrowing experiences during their journey. Part of how we make sense of those experiences and continue to move on is to share our stories. Take those parents out, show them you care and are genuinely interested, and let them tell their stories. Also, please assure confidentiality. As much as we need to talk, we are also fiercely protective of our kiddos’ stories.

Hand in hand with listening is to trust the story you are told. No one knows the journey of foster care better than those living it. When those living the journey celebrate a win, celebrate it with them (even if you don’t quite get why it’s a win). And when they’re overwhelmed by difficulties, offer empathy and validation.

Many challenges of foster care happen within four walls and behind closed doors; from the outside, life can look normal. Kids can seem healthy and functional. But rarely are kids in foster care operating at their prime, and the families live that reality.

Offer Community

Foster children bring additional needs with them, some visible, some not so visible. Those needs can be challenging, timeconsuming and exhausting. Often, it’s just easier to stay home than try to grapple with those needs in public. But foster families need community. Be that community. Don’t give up on inviting them. Including them. Loving on them. Your investment will not go unreturned. And when they do show up? Welcome them (and their children) with open arms.

My story is both incredible and, at the same time, it is not. To the end that it glorifies the Lord and bears witness to his incredible grace, power and love, it is unparalleled. And yet, to the degree that it makes me out to be anything other than a sinner saved by grace, it is quite ordinary. In the end, my story is one of obedience. Of going where the Lord leads; of submitting plans to him; of being open to his leading; of coming back to him each time I stray and trust him to receive me, remake me, use me.

For reasons known only to him, the Lord put me on this path as the one that would best glorify him. Whatever the specifics of your path, the mandate to care for the fatherless is clear. Wherever and however the Lord might use you, there is no greater joy than helping the little children come unto Jesus.