Why foster care?

          When I was about 8 or 9 years old, my family became friends with the M’Bogos. The M’Bogos were a family that had recently moved to the states from Kenya. They spoke very little English and were completely unaware of standard social etiquette, but I was fascinated with them. Their stories of the African culture completely opened my eyes to a world so different than mine. As I learned about the disease, poverty and depravity of their homeland, my heart broke for the people there. My childish mind decided that I would save them all! It was at this time that I began my journey toward adoption.
I’ve had a passion for Africa ever since my childhood experience with the M’Bogo family.

           Later on, in high school, my youth pastor (one of the most influential people in my life at the time) announced that he and his family would be going to the mission field of Ethiopia. I immersed myself in learning every aspect of the Ethiopian culture. Again, I was amazed at the corruption, poverty and despair of the nation. My heart hurt every time I read about the orphans there. 1 in 5 children dies from hunger before they turn 15 years old. By then, they are usually parents themselves and carrying multiple diseases. I became more and more convinced that Ethiopia was where I wanted to adopt from. That is, until earlier this year.


          Anyone who follows adoption news closely knows about the recent movement to cut foreign adoptions in Ethiopia. This year, the Ethiopian government cut international adoption down by 95%, leaving hundreds of American families childless, and thousands of African orphans on the streets. Talk of corruption and misfiled paperwork was the reason behind the sudden change.

          As heartbroken as I was about Ethiopia, this news only sealed in my mind something that I’d already been contemplating. I was meant to start here at home. My church (James River Assembly) focused on foster care and adoption last year and started a non-profit called “Cherish Kids” to benefit local foster children and their families. When I learned of the 9,000 children in local care, and the incredible lack of decent foster homes, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God was showing me the need in my own community.

          I started my classes and paperwork and, two years later, I got my state foster care license. The process was so long and very emotional, but so worth it. As much as you learn in class, nothing can prepare you for that first phone call. Mine was pretty intense. You see, I had my idea of the perfect placement for me. A little girl, maybe 3 or 4 years old, (ABSOLUTELY NO INFANTS) healthy and no behavioral problems. I also didn’t really want any severe abuse cases. I was very picky, because I was scared. Did I mention “no infants’?