A friend of ours came for dinner Easter weekend. He asked me, pointedly: “What have you learned – what has God shown you – this spring season?” I wanted to laugh, to scoff a little. Even though I’ve been learning and growing in so many ways, I couldn’t think of anything to say in the moment. Original thoughts and creativity elude me these days; I’ve gained 10 pounds that I can’t seem to muster up the discipline to shed. I’m tired and sluggish. So much has changed since we welcomed a permanent foster placement five months ago – a newborn. For me personally and professionally, certainly, but also for our overall family dynamic. Some mornings, my husband and I wake up and ask: “What have we done?” The question itself might seem to imply ingratitude, but I think it points to our human desire for comfort and our general distaste for change of any kind.
Our sweet, cuddly bundle of joy loves tummy time; our baby smiles impossibly wide, kicking legs and flailing arms so ferociously; strength and vitality that demonstrate new life and growth. Though I admittedly ask, “What have we done?” when greeted with a sink full of dirty bottles and a screaming baby at 3 a.m., God faithfully reminds me to ask a different question – King David’s prayer from the Bible – “Who am I, God, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?”
I’m also reminded of a word coined by British fantasy author J.R.R Tolkien, whose notable works include The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings series. The word is “eucatastrophe” – eu is a Greek prefix, meaning good. Attached to the word catastrophe, eucatastrophe signifies a sudden, unexpected, surprising turn of events that ensures characters in the story do not meet some impending doom or traumatic end. I’m reminded of the main characters at the very end of Toy Story 3, descending together into the garbage incinerator on a wave of trash, holding hands and facing certain death. At the last possible moment, The Claw, manned by the plastic toy aliens, descends and scoops them out. Eucatastrophe.
I desire eucatastrophe – the happiest of endings – for all neglected and vulnerable children in Southwest Florida, including those reunified with a parent or kin, those in foster care, and those living in group homes. I desire unexpected safety and security for them. I desire a surprising turn of events such that they receive unending, unconditional love and provision for basic needs. I desire their biological parents to be equipped and empowered to parent properly and advocate for them. I desire permanence for their home lives and successful outcomes for their therapies, healthcare, and educational accommodations. I desire eucatastrophe.
Our baby’s story, though still fraught with unknowns, is representative of this concept, certainly. And, for my family, just when we thought we knew what our direction and outcome would be, we’re experiencing this good and miraculous catastrophe of newborn snuggles and struggle, discomfort and joy all wrapped up together. Who am I – and what is my family – that God has brought us this far and given us a story of eucatastrophe to share with our community?
Our story
Our journey of becoming a foster family opened our eyes to the frequent occurrence of catastrophe. Order often descends to chaos (entropy) in this world, and eucatastrophe, while present, isn’t a guarantee for many children in Southwest Florida. Eucatastrophe happens often in fictional narratives, but we get only fleeting glimpses of it in the here and now. And, one child’s eucatastrophe so often accompanies another person’s tragedy.
Before we progressed through our training last summer with One More Child, I didn’t understand how a child’s story included the phrase: “I was in and out of foster homes.” The child welfare system in Florida prioritizes reunification with biological families, and placement agencies fully recognize the need to simultaneously prioritize permanence. So, then, how do children get moved from one home to another? The reasons are mulit-faceted and complex, too many to list, but here are a few:
- When children enter the system, their complete background and needs are often unknown at that time; foster families may require a placement change because they are unequipped for various needs.
- Circumstances in any given licensed foster family’s lives may change, requiring placement change or respite care.
- Children may reunify with a parent or other family members. The child welfare system’s investigation may continue, and the state may call that reunification into question based upon the investigation.
How can we respond to this chaos? How can we uphold vulnerable children in SWFL? How can we provide for glimmers of hope in the lives of children? I would ask that you research involvement in the following programs and organizations. You don’t have to become a foster family to help!
- One More Child (licensure and advocacy)
- Guardian Ad Litem Program – Florida (relational and legal advocacy)
- Foster Village of Southwest Florida (meeting practical needs for foster families and children)
- Lutheran Services (licensure and placement)
- Children’s Network of Southwest Florida (licensure and placement)
Each of these organizations advocates and provides for vulnerable children in various ways, and they need our help. Summer is a great time to consider new opportunities. It’s when we took our foster care class and started down a road of embracing blessing in struggle, joy in the unknown, and learning through discomfort and heartache. And it’s the means through which we’ve experienced our own crazy story of eucatastrophe. So, in the words of my friend and fellow foster mom, Laura Wells, “Why not dive in? Why not open your home? Now is the time!” Happy summer!