I Am Not A Foster Son

And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. — John 10:16 ESV

After a decade of fostering, a conversation with me on this topic will always involve the tough stuff; foster care is not for the feint of heart or overly romantic. But stick with me a little longer, maybe buy a second cup of coffee, and the light will begin to shine through the cracks. Foster care is a beautiful picture of the gospel, an illustration of the great shepherd who was willing to look outside his fold, to call sheep that belonged elsewhere, and make one flock to call his very own.

When my family gathers to worship with our church, there is a peculiar joy in my heart as I look down the pew to see my kids—varied in hue and personality as they are—worshiping together. There is no special row for the ‘real’ Thomas kids, and one for the ‘included extras’—there’s just one big rabble of mess and noise we call ‘family’.

I’m so glad Jesus looked for me. I’m so glad he found me wandering, lifted me onto his shoulders, and welcomed me into his family. I’m so glad he doesn’t introduce me to others as his ‘foster son’—I’m simply his beloved. I’m so glad.