A String of Strangers

A Stranger

A stranger hurt them.

A stranger took them into foster care when he found them living in a car.

A stranger kept them for 3 nights.

Strange doctors checked on them.

A stranger brought them to me, another stranger, over an hour away.

Another stranger kept them while I worked, then I took them to a school of strangers.
Another stranger picked them up for an appointment and brought them home to me for a month and we became no longer strangers, but family. 

Last night, me, a former stranger, cried a lot since I don’t know anyone I trust personally who has an open home to be their next stranger. I can’t do it long term, or I can’t be a stranger to another child who might needs us next and the 5 other former foster kids I’ve committed to already in some way. 

This morning, I met another stranger (a new caseworker) who will take them to back to stranger #3, and then they’ll move to stranger #4. I don’t even know her name when they ask. I wrote a letter. Maybe it will help.

I wish God would set the world right and there would be no more strangers for foster kids. They deserve a life surrounded by trusted, safe family—not strangers.

IF you don’t like this story about strangers, and you feel one ounce of the shame and guilt I feel over not being able to stop the string of strangers, please pray about getting ready to be a stranger that becomes a Mom and Dad for a child who needs no-more-strangers to care for them.


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