In 2008, we became foster parents of two refugee boys from South Sudan. Over the next two years, we added the boys’ older sister and our biological child to the family, going from 0-4 kids in 2 years! Many years later, our Mexican-American teenage god-daughter moved in, and three years ago, our oldest daughter gave birth to our sweet granddaughter. Hence our loud, colorful, large, delightful family of immigrants and refugees. Just like everything else in the Kingdom of Heaven, it wasn’t exactly like what we dreamed it would be; it was much harder, and it crushed and humbled us in painful ways, and it has been far better than anything we could have ever asked for or imagined.
Perhaps somewhat like Afghanistan, South Sudan has been ravaged by war for most of modern history. The effects of war, including family separation, psychological trauma, hunger, and extreme poverty, have impacted our kids’ lives. The first four years were extremely difficult. We didn’t trust each other and we had very different ways of approaching everything. I mean everything. I would ask them to help me cut the cantaloupe for lunch; I cut nice squares while they cut long strips and then played “throw the knife at each other” in the kitchen while I proceeded to lose my mind. I was worried about everyone’s safety; they had survived a devastating attack on their village as small children and had lived in a refugee camp for 6 years without any adult supervision; plus they were healthy teenage boys, who were at the developmental stage where they are certain that they are invincible.
We foster-adopted our family because the Bible tells us to care for the foreigner in our midst. We are supposed to love our neighbors and lay down our lives for the call of Christ. We learned more about what love is during those first four years than in our entire lives prior to that point. We learned more about sacrifice during those first four years than would be possible in an academic setting. The relationship with our kids saved us from a life of superficial spiritual understanding and cannonballed us into the deep end of God’s unfathomable love.
Late one evening, our older son had had enough after an argument about screen time or wearing his school uniform or something, and he just stormed out of the house. Brett followed him, staying a few feet behind him but keeping him in sight. Our son was in the 8th grade and was desperately frustrated with life, sad and angry and hopeless about the future. He was at the point where he didn’t care if he lived or died, a place many teens reach, but nearly all believe they are alone there. He crossed the road in dangerous places, trying to shake Brett off of his tail. Brett crossed the four lane roads right behind him. He walked faster. Brett walked faster. Brett just kept telling him, “You are my son. I love you.” They ended up walking for nine miles until our son finally sat down on the curb. Brett sat next to him. Then he said, “Let’s go home.”
Somehow, over time, with God’s grace, miracles, and even a couple of prophetic dreams, we grew together as a real, healthy family. We learned to apologize well, to support each other and love each other and have hard, honest conversations with each other. We learned to sharpen each other as iron sharpens iron. We give thanks to God for his goodness in giving us this family.
Our family is the result of several people intentionally coming together in proximity and trust. Not only did we decide to bring our kids to our house, they decided to stay with us. They had plenty of opportunities to leave, and I am sure they thought about it (they had been through 8 foster homes before coming to our house), but they chose to stay. Over time, and with a lot of hard work and God’s provision, those small offerings of proximity, trust, and gritty love turned into family. This phenomenon doesn’t have to be limited to the nuclear family. Sometimes it happens with neighbors or friends. You can choose to live in a place of proximity and trust with your neighbors such that, through the work of the Holy Spirit, the fruits of love, patience, and faithfulness grow, and you become family together. This happened with my god-daughter, as well as with a dear Nigerian family, who drive two hours each way every Thanksgiving to eat with us.
Our hope is that you too will get to know the depths of God’s love through intentional neighboring relationships that result in family members who are much different than anything you ever expected and far greater than anything you could ever imagine!
