The journey of foster care is not free of pain, nor deep hurt, in the least bit. But allowing yourself to feel the emotions that come from loving a child from a difficult place may fill you up more than you realize.
20 years ago.
“Let go!” the camp counselor shouted encouragingly from 100 feet below. With one hand gripping the zip line tightly and the other hand securely fastened to the tower, I stared at the tops of the trees below. Adrenaline coursed through me and my senses were completely on alert. The warm July breeze on my face, the creek of the wooden stairs I had just climbed. I had a choice to make. Let go or hold tighter. My muscles ached with the thought and my knuckles had turned white with fear. Boldly jump or slink back down 10 stories to admit defeat to my fellow campers. “Let go,” I heard the trees whisper. “Let go,” the wind whistled. “Let go,” my heart thumped, and I did.