FACT

And sometimes they are dual diagnoses. So few people understand or know about FASD. Our goal is to offer fact driven, human experienced, research based information.

Looking for a mentor? We’re here for you.

WAY Alliance is currently seeking youth ages 14–24 with foster care experience who are interested in being matched with a caring, supportive mentor.

Our mentors are trusted adults who provide encouragement, guidance, and support as youth work toward their personal, educational, career, and life goals. Whether you need someone to talk to, help navigating resources, or a positive connection in your corner, mentorship can make a lasting difference.

Through WAY Alliance, youth are matched with trained mentors who are committed to building meaningful relationships and helping young people thrive.

📍 Serving youth throughout North Texas
💙 Ages 14–24 with foster care experience
🔗 Learn more and apply at WAYAlliance.org

Know a young person who could benefit from a mentor? Share this post and help us spread the word.

A sweet friend of ours and fellow foster parent said it well in this post a few years ago and it’s worth a reshare!

Over two years ago, I drove away from a mom's last visit with her kids after her rights were terminated, and I gripped this in my hand, fighting back tears because it was sugar free. It felt like too little, too late, but it felt like SOMETHING.

Because I'd sat in a court room for hours while they analyzed her worth as a mom, and found her not good enough. And I listened to them tell her sometimes her kids threw up after visits because of the massive amounts of sugar she'd let them consume - one time in particular, it was bright pink to match the almost empty package of pink wafer cookies her son carried out in his little hands.

Of course, it was just an example of much deeper problems - years of failing to protect her kids, failing to listen to advice, failing to seek out therapies for their complicated needs, years of being complacent to the point of neglect. But they told her about the sugar. And here she was trying to address a molehill dwarfed by a mountain. But she was trying.

All throughout the case, I'd told my husband I was so glad I didn't have to make the decisions that determined the fate of their family. How do you decide if someone is good enough? What if she had a little more time, what if she got away from all the toxic people, what if her past justified a little bit of the present? What if, what if, what if? But decisions had to made and consequences rendered. That's the job of a judge.

And that drink I held was something, but it wasn't enough, wasn't everything.

And maybe, there's a little bit of gospel in that. Because sometimes, my good deeds must look like sugar free flavored water to God. He's PERFECTION, and I will always fall short of that.

Sometimes I serve just to serve, and I remember that when I give even my right hand shouldn't know what my left is doing, but sometimes, I kiiiiiinda want my right hand and all of Facebook to know. Sometimes I post blogs about being content in Jesus the day before complaining to my husband about our outdated cabinets. Sometimes I take a Bible reading plan from church in January and don't get through January before the year is over. Sometimes I don't move my head to the side so the homeless person doesn't think I'm choosing to drive past intentionally. Sometimes I gossip or yell like a psycho at my kids. Sometimes I'm greedy, impatient, selfish, ungrateful, prideful and a million other things.

And all my good deeds suddenly look like something, but not enough, not everything.

So what if God had to make a decision on my worth as a follower of Christ? Would I compare myself to Ted Bundy or Billy Graham? If my time as a believe was way shorter than my time as an non-believer, would I get a pro-rated case? Would I be allowed to justify my mistakes? Would "but I brought healthy snacks" seem sufficient when faced with the glory of God? How would I ever know if I was good enough?

But He makes it easy - He tells me I'm most definitely not. But Jesus was, and God let him take my consequences, and all I have to do is say I get that and I accept that. I think sometimes we complicate grace, but there's a lot of beauty and freedom in knowing He's enough. For me, for that mom I drove away from, for all of us offering sugar free grape flavored water to the giver of living water.

Thanks Kasey Gonzalez ❤️

https://www.instagram.com/p/DZXzYtkgAMM/?igsh=MTgyNTZobWFhaGY4OA==

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What if we valued foster parents like we do missionaries?

I have watched churches rally around missionaries.

We pray for them.
We raise money for them.
We send support every month.
We commission them.
We celebrate them.
We tell their stories.

And we should.

But I can’t help wondering…

What if we did the same for foster families?

Not instead of.

Also.

Because there are families in your church who are walking into hard places every single day.

Families saying yes to children carrying trauma.

Families sitting in waiting rooms, courtrooms, therapy appointments, and visitation centers.

Families loving children whose futures are uncertain.

Families holding heartbreak, grief, hope, and redemption all at the same time.

And most of them are doing it quietly.

No newsletters.

No support pledges.

No monthly updates.

No commissioning service.

Just a simple yes to whatever God places in front of them.

What if the Church saw that as ministry too?

What if we prayed over the family saying yes to a placement?

What if we brought meals when a new child arrived?

What if we filled their pantry?

What if we babysat so they could breathe for a minute?

What if we surrounded them the same way we surround those we send across the world?

Because foster care is not just social work.

It is ministry.

It is waking up at 2 a.m. with a child who is grieving.

It is sitting through visits and court hearings.

It is loving children who are hurting.

It is showing up over and over again when it would be easier not to.

It is Kingdom work.

Right here.

In our neighborhoods.

In our schools.

In our own church pews.

We cheer for the people God calls overseas.

And we should.

But maybe it’s time we started noticing the people He called across town too.

The foster parents.

The kinship caregivers.

The adoptive families.

The ones quietly carrying burdens most people will never see.

They’re not looking for applause.

But they do need support.

And they should not have to carry the mission field alone.