Jojo had been in foster care for most of her sixteen years, moving from home to home, foster parents unable to cope with her behavior. Early on, she tried hard to fit in, but years of uncertainty had built an anger inside her. Jojo had suffered so much rejection that even in good placements she argued, stayed out past curfew, and remained aloof from the family, almost daring them to throw her out. If she rejected them first, the pain when they rejected her was a little easier to bear.Every broken placement chipped away at Jojo’s confidence and the walls she built around her heart grew higher and stronger. Eventually, Jojo’s case manager told her that her last and only option was to live in a girls’ group home as there were few families able to cope with her. So she moved into the home, living with an ever changing group of teenage girls, and finally found some stability and a trained and caring staff to care for her. It was true that the regime was strict but now Jojo was able to relax a little. She was encouraged to focus on her schoolwork and quickly demonstrated a ready mind and the possibility of college became a reality.

During her final years of high school, a group of women from Living 1:27 Foster Care Ministry started visiting the girls once a month. The women were faithful and brought enrichment to the routine lives of the girls. They taught Jojo and her friends practical skills like how to apply for jobs and prepare resumes, they provided professional self defense training, they held summer book club, and they shared the Gospel through Easter teaching and through their selfless love. There were Christmas shows, nail painting parties, and the knowledge that someone cared and would faithfully visit.

Jojo did well at school and applied to college. She worked hard and despite years of disrupted schooling, Jojo was offered a place at university!

Everyone was overjoyed for her and so proud of what she had achieved, overcoming so much to have this wonderful new opportunity. There was so much to get ready, so much to buy to furnish a dorm room, books to get, and an exciting adventure to begin.

But Jojo didn’t have someone to go shopping for bedding with, no one to choose towels with, she had no one to help her make this great step into adulthood. The staff helped out and there was some money for supplies but then the Living 1:27 ladies had a genius plan! They told Jojo to create a wish list, stuff she would like if there was no limit, and they would find a way to make it happen. Jojo made her modest online list and it was sent out to the Living 1:27 community and gifts started flowing in. People could see how hard Jojo had worked, how she had succeeded despite the odds, and they wanted her to know that she was not alone.

Jojo is now a freshman at college and still needs our love and support. College is hard and learning how to study and live independently is challenging for all new students. For Jojo, leaving foster care means there is none of the family support that most young people take for granted. We can continue to love and support Jojo by letting her know that she has people who care for her. If you would like to send a loving and encouraging message to Jojo please send your letter or care package to Jojo, ℅ Fellowship Bible Church, 480 W Crossville Road, Roswell GA 30075

(Note: This a fictionalized story about a real girl, details have been changed but Jojo is real and would truly appreciate your love.)

The reality is that the majority of foster parents are not interested or equipped to care for teenagers in the foster care system. As a result, many older children are placed in group homes. In these homes, children are cared for by house parents and live their formative years in an institutional setting. The carers are dedicated and try to provide a caring family atmosphere but children crave a family of their own, to belong with people who care for each other.

Many of these teens can be challenging or withdrawn, protecting themselves from the impersonality of a life where they are essentially alone, fending for themselves. However, for the most part, the children are exhibiting the normal challenges of adolescent development which can be amplified by their living circumstances. Teens are literally adults -in-training. They want and need role models, life coaches, and opportunities to develop into the people they are destined to be.

Parents of teens know how much their children grow and mature during their middle and high school years, through trial and error, and with the support and guidance of family, friends, church, and peers. It isn’t easy. The environment of ubiquitous high tech, peer influence, and school pressure can derail even the most stable and connected child. Imagine how difficult it can be for an adolescent with no momma to help heal a broken heart, no dad to cheer you on when you are at bat, no momma to help you with that math problem. Teens need a solid base from which to launch into the world. Losing family, all that is familiar, and being forced to live in an institution where your friends come and go and where your adult carers leave at the end of their shifts can only lead, to a sense of isolation.

In the next post we will tell you about a Living 1:27 initiative, established more than four years ago, that is creating relationships  with girls at a local group home.

When you begin fostering, you are largely stepping out in faith, into a territory that you have never visited before. You feel like an explorer on a different continent … so much is strange and you have to relearn a lot of what you thought you knew.This post, penned by Janice McClean at her blog adequateparenting.blogspot.com, speaks of some of the weird and fun experiences that you can find yourself in as a foster or adoptive momma.

Most of the time I live my life without much introspection; cooking, cleaning, helping with (interminable) homework, being a momma. However, there are times when the novelty and uniqueness of our family makes me sit back and consider this strange reality that I live.

For example, the Trader Joe’s where I normally shop is full of friendly staff who all know me and my children, and who always ask after them when I occasionally shop alone. All normal and natural so far, right? Well, apparently I have a twin who also shops there, who apparently looks so much like me that she is always asked how her kids are, not only at Trader Joe’s but at other local stores. Weird, huh? I am an old, tall, graying, Englishwoman, living in Georgia, with four black children and there is someone who is so like me that she is often mistaken for me! Spooky! Part of me is intrigued to meet her but there is another part of me that is scared that she is old, gray, 400 pounds and hideous looking … And we look just the same! One day I will meet my twin and I will take a picture and we may become bff’s.

I drive a silver minivan that has red flames on the hood, and minion stickers, and college and preschool decals on the back window. It is quite a noticeable vehicle. I drive it around with no thought to the decorations and have been busted at various Dairy Queens and Starbucks all around the north metro region. It’s just our van, our smelly, trash-filled van, and I don’t think about the novelty of the decor. But we get noticed … By little boys who marvel at the minions, by Starbucks drive-through baristas who wonder if the flames make our van go faster, and by older parents who comment about the various (rival) colleges where our tuition payments have gone.

I have been to many new and strange locations since becoming a foster mother, some where I have been the only white person in the room, where I have been one of the few English speakers, and also where my children have been the only non-white people present. It is strange and intriguing and exciting and mind expanding! I am not a public person, I don’t like to be the center of attention, but this novel life of mine has placed me in a very visible role. This old, white momma just took her son into a barbershop for his first haircut. I didn’t know the protocol, I didn’t know the name of the hairstyle he wanted, and I didn’t know how much it was going to cost. I just sat giving encouraging smiles and my boy came out looking so proud and handsome and grown up … Another adventure that will be easier the next time.

I have learned how to style my girls’ hair with greater or lesser success and this, in itself, has given me way more attention than I have ever craved in my life! I have had the whole range of responses, from an African lady who complimented me on Mimi’s braids and who told me I had ‘African hands’ to the numerous, well-meaning (and not so well-meaning) mamas who have offered advice, teeth sucking, and to style my girls’ hair for me. I have learned to be humble, asking for advice and complimenting little girls at the park so their mommas will give me tips. I have spent so much money on products and have learned that you can ask for recommendations from 100 people and you will receive 200 sure fire ideas! I have learned that good enough is good enough and that I would rather take my children to the zoo with wild hair than stay home to style it, to avoid a hair confrontation in the parking lot!

I have learned that love is love, that a child loves her momma no matter if their skin matches or not. I have found heights of love for children I didn’t birth but who mean the world to me. I love my life despite the spotlight that our everyday mundane shines on it. I will continue to have daily, minor adventures, outside of my comfort zone, out in the spotlight.

Remember to wave if you see my van of flames but please don’t suck your teeth when my tangled hair princesses run giggling and screaming at the park. Thank you.

PS If you come across my alter ego (you will know it’s not me because she won’t be looking frazzled and covered in kids) take a photo of her and ask her to find me on Facebook.

Today we hosted a training session for foster parents. There was a good turnout and the families brought their potluck casseroles and their children, to join together in fellowship and to learn. Thirty five children enjoyed a loving childcare experience as their parents, biological and foster, discovered more about how to relate to hurting children.

There were familiar faces and new families who had just learned of our ministry. There were children I had met before and there were children who were new to me. It is always amazing to witness the diversity of those enclosed in the world of foster care; multi-racial families, children suddenly in the role of ‘twin’ when they arrive in a temporary home, and parents from all walks of life opening their hearts and homes to children in need.

This afternoon I was especially struck by the humanity and the tragedy of children in foster care. The children were all well cared for and there were no obvious differences between the appearance of the bio children or their temporary siblings. On the surface, one can be forgiven for thinking that all is well and that the children are doing fine. In fact, when thinking about children in care, it is almost obligatory to imagine that everything is alright because the alternative is too horrendous to consider.

However, a conversation with a four year old, at the end of his first week in care, made me realize what a crazy, scary world it is for a small child.

He told me about his mother and where she was and that he couldn’t see her yet, and it made me think of my nearly four year old who cries if I leave her with her father for fifteen minutes when I run out for milk.

He told me that he likes broccoli and it made me think of our foster daughter who loved blueberries and who I worried wouldn’t get to enjoy them after she left us to return home.

He made me think about how confusing and terrifying it is for a little child to be taken away from all that is familiar to him, even if others have decided that moving is in his best interests. I thought about all of my seven children and how, over the years, they have each cried after being left at preschool and how they knew that, however scary it was, I would always come back for them. I tried to imagine a world where a four year old is deprived of the certainty of a momma’s return and it broke my heart.

I pray for those little ones who have to toughen up to protect themselves, and for those whose hearts are forever wrinkled. I pray for the foster families who offer an oasis of love and care as they stand in the gap with little ones whose burdens are too heavy for them to carry alone.I pray that we can all stand with the families and the children they care for, and show them that there is love in the world and that while your momma cannot come back right now, we will stay with you and hold your hand while you wait.

I share the post below, as a tribute to a man who demonstrated our heavenly Father’s love for a young girl in need.

I share this post as an encouragement for the men currently demonstrating our heavenly Father’s love for young girls and boys in need.

I share this post for the men who sense God’s voice asking them to demonstrate His love for young girls and boys in need.

http://www.fromfostertofabulous.com/1/post/2013/11/the-man-who-earned-the-title-dad-my-dad-john-chase.html