We are nearly halfway through our training to be foster parents and the one thing I keep thinking is: dag, there are so many ways to screw up a kid. It's not that we're bad people who would do bad things. But I wonder if we'd be the kind of parents I've always wanted to be.
There are times I feel so inadequate to help a child who has been abused, neglected, defeated and wounded. There are some wounds that no amount of hugging, laughing or comforting can soothe. I've never experienced the depth of pain that many of these children have, and I wonder how can I help them navigate through their grief when I have no idea what they are thinking or feeling.
But even as the classes open my eyes to the needs of the children, I also feel my heart being softened and stretched. Where I once found only selfishness and impatience I now discover a depth of love and compassion that had not been there before. I may feel inadequate to the task, but more than ever I have the passion to overcome the challenge and help these children discover a love and pride they have yet to know.