Warrior Mama

"I do solemnly swear to support and defend [you] against all enemies; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to [you]; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter; so help me God."

This is the oath of enlisted military officers, but the same words could be equally true when a foster child enters my care.  From the moment I meet my next temporary son or short-term daughter, I feel like my new mission has just begun.

I take this role seriously.  I vow to love you to the best of my ability with all of the tenderness and gentleness within me.  That’s the part of me that you will see and feel and experience. But the side that you may not ever know about, the part of me that is making a simultaneous commitment is this:  I promise to become your “Warrior Mama.”  I will fight for you.  

"The Good Girl" and "The Other Mother"

There is a powerful scene in the movie Blindside, where a young man, who has been away from home for a few years, is searching for his birthmother.  The contrast between his wealthy white foster parents’ neighborhood and his former neighborhood with its loitering minorities, broken-down cars, and crowded apartment buildings is striking.  As my own family sat watching the movie in the comfort of our living room, I could sense that the scene was going to get ugly; it involved gang members, weapons, violence, and drugs.   I paused the movie and asked my children to leave the room until the scene was over.  When the story resumed, there was indeed an altercation.   During the chaos that ensued, a crib tipped over and the baby inside started crying.  I was stunned by the disparity:  here I was protecting my children from seeing that situation on a television screen, while there are children in the world who are actually living it!

Unexpected Visitors

"Hello?"

"Hi.  I'm calling from the Department of Children and Family Services.  We have a child who has been taken into protective custody and is in need of a foster home.  Would you be interested?"

Whenever I receive a phone call from a social worker, asking me if I can take a child into my home, I usually have a general idea of what I am getting myself into.  I am given the child’s age, gender, brief background and family information, and any known problems or challenges.  I know that I will host these little visitors who will have needs that I will try to meet, who will stay temporarily, and then will leave to continue their journey with someone else.  I anticipate welcoming them into my home for as long as necessary.

However, there have been a few visitors along the way who have entered my home by surprise.  During the monotonous routines of daily life while battling the weariness of attending to the many needs of my fluctuating family, these visitors have suddenly come knocking at my door asking me to let them in.  The names of my unexpected visitors?  Resentment and Doubt.