Your Labor Is Not in Vain

“As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”—Isaiah 55:10–11 (NIV)

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”—Galatians 6:9 (NIV)

“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”—Psalm 139:7–10 (NIV)

“The system is so broken” is a phrase you often hear in the foster and adoption community. Not only am I expected to parent the different kids who come into my home, but I also have to wear the hat of mediator, negotiator, advocate, and diplomat. Because of the very broken people and the complicated systems involved, I have to be a problem-solver extraordinaire.

Sometimes I find myself educating the people involved in foster placement. Other times I’m playing the role of a counselor when a biological parent promises to show up for visitation and doesn’t. Right when I start to think I have a child, social worker, court clerk, or visitation schedule figured out, everything changes. I constantly get the rug pulled out from under me. My skin gets thicker, I start to feel numb, and in the really low moments, I start to wonder when all of this will get easier. Yet, for the sake of these kids, I have to keep walking as if I’m on solid ground.

It was while I was in one of these low places that God gave me a clear message. He said, “Alejandro, it’s not about you. It’s all about this child. Instead of focusing on when ‘all this' will get easier for you, you should be looking for anything you can do to make it easier for the child.” It was then I realized that it’s my sacred privilege to remove as much weight as I can from the little shoulders that come through my front door.

These kids didn’t ask for a tough life. They’re not prepared to bear it, and they’re certainly not equipped to navigate the very broken system. Since this realization, my daily prayer is now, “God, forgive me for being selfish. Give me selfless eyes that can see the problems these children are facing and the weight they are trying to carry on their own. Make me strong enough to carry it for them.” These kids are facing demons that I will never understand, but I don’t have to understand them to engage and fight on their behalf.