I recently began the arduous task of refinishing a dining room table. It is a family heirloom belonging to my great-grandparents. While I stripped layer after layer of paint, I identified at least seven coats of paint and stain that had been on the table at one point or another. I threw my weight and strength into scraping and sanding.
As I uncovered greens, yellows, and beige layers of paint. I couldn't help but wonder what truths these paint layers knew.
For generations, my family has sat around this table and shared Christmas dinner. We had breakfast the morning after a devastating loss. Newlyweds dined as a novice chef passed plates of burned meat. People shared cups of coffee and freshly-made pancakes. New babies grew into toddlers and earned their own seats at the table. Life lessons were learned over spaghetti, sorrow was shared over chicken and dumplings, and the faith was passed down over pot roast.
And how many had sat there over the years?
My conviction is that with empty space comes beautiful opportunities.
Holy possibilities.
Because of the laborious process that is stripping furniture, I had plenty of time to wonder about the years of wisdom soaked into this table. What a gift family dinners are! It’s my favorite time of the day–my favorite moment when I was a kid and now, as a parent. Dinner together is sacred space.
Of course, the concept of coming together around the table is not new for Christians. Church families regularly practice communion and together honor the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Yet again, this table is sacred space for community.
I have a fairly ordinary life. I’m a daughter of a preacher, a middle child, a Christian college grad, a wife, a mother, a children’s ministry fanatic—and a foster mom. I suppose that’s the part where my story starts to deviate from the ordinary—except, not really.
“Consider how God wants you to respond to the 15,000 children—in Texas alone—who need a safe table at which to belong.”
I’m still an ordinary mom, doing what ordinary moms do—mothering whoever is in front of me. If you’ll allow me the privilege, I’d like to spend some time together talking about the biggest elephants in the room regarding Foster Care and how we, as the Church, can respond.
How can we come alongside children in crisis and create sacred spaces?
When there’s room for more
When people find out I have a history as a foster parent, one of the first questions I receive without fail is: “Why did you begin fostering?”
The most honest answer I can give is, “Well, there was room at my table. There were empty seats, leftovers, extra plates in the cabinet, and room for more.” It became my conviction that with empty space came beautiful opportunity. Holy possibilities. Of course, there's a longer answer that involves prayer, conversation, intentional learning surrounding the need in my community, and mentors. But the turning point for me was those empty seats at the table. There was room for more. Sacred space waited for more life.
““Why did you begin fostering?”
The most honest answer I can give is, “Well, there was room at my table.””
Whether you have been thinking about welcoming children in foster care to your table or want to support a family who is, there are many opportunities to help.
I hope you’ll prayerfully consider how God wants you to respond to the 15,000 children—in Texas alone—who need a safe table at which to belong.
6 ways to support foster parents:
But hear me clearly say that becoming a foster parent is not for everyone. Even if it’s not the calling of your heart, you most certainly can be part of the support system that benefits the foster care community. Here are ways from my personal experience to bles foster families:
1. Include them.
Very often, families new to foster care begin to feel isolated from family and friends. Foster families are seeking connection and normalcy for their children, so don't leave them out!
2. Bring a meal.
Taking care of meals, especially after a new placement, allows foster parents to focus on the children in their care rather than cooking. When you bring a baby home from the hospital, you can set them down in a safe space and walk away if you need to. Many times, the kids placed in foster homes are already curious, walking, talking, exploring, mischievous little humans that are trying to make sense of the world around them. Let foster parents focus on connection, not meals.
3. Ask what personal belongings you can purchase for new placements.
Many children come to a foster home without basic necessities: toothbrushes, shampoo, diapers, clothing, bedding, etc. Ask about and then go get these essentials as quick as you can! If there are other children in the home, please consider picking up something special for them too. The whole family is experiencing transition, and jealousy comes quickly.
4. Become a certified babysitter.
Is it easy? Not usually. Is it time-consuming? Yes. Does it meet a very real and life-giving need for caregivers? You better believe it!
5. Let the foster parents talk. Let those who foster share, lament, get angry, be sad, and express their hardships. And here’s the kicker–listen without judgment. Be a safe space to share big feelings.
6. Pray for the whole family. Ask God to be near to those who foster. And then take them dinner.
I hope that everyone who takes a seat at our table feels the warmth of family and the presence of God. But it takes more than just one family to make it happen. It takes the Church stepping in to offer their space and time to share with others.
As the Body of Christ, we can show how our family table in Heaven looks. As we receive the most vulnerable and support one another, we display a picture of God’s kingdom where all are welcome.
Karis McQuinn has spent more than 12 years in professional children’s ministry, and her greatest joy is watching her children grow into who God has created them to be—in everyday moments. She is married to a dreamy engineer and is raising 4 gentlemen to be world changers.
Churches of every size can find ways to include community members with disabilities