Lives made better on the glory side

If you knew me, then you could attest how I am never at a loss for words. You can ask those who do know me and they will tell you. However, recently words failed me.

During a church service at Mills Home Baptist Church in Thomasville, I was sitting on the pew beside a young lady in care. I was holding her while she cried, and I was unable to speak. She had just found out that her mother passed away. Her heart was broken, and she had so many questions, and all I could do was hold her –– I never said a word.

As she leaned into me and her tears dampened my shirt, I realized that I was no longer a staff member at Mills Home. To this girl, I was family –– holding her tightly, quietly

praying that God would comfort her.

Like a mother or an older sister, I felt a need to protect her. I wanted to make it better.

It is moments like this that cement me to this vocation. It’s the place in the puzzle where I fit perfectly, and it is what keeps me doing what I do for hurting children and families –– for 25 years to be exact.

The day a child is admitted into care is exciting to me. However, it’s most likely one of the worst days of the child’s life. I know the life they are leaving and I am thrilled to know what awaits them. This child will no longer have to sleep on a couch moving from one home to another. This child will no longer go to bed hungry, stand at the bus stop with a stomach that is growling, or pocket a bar of candy at the corner convenience store. This child will be able to shower every day, wear fresh clothes, and sleep in a warm bed. This child, like many others who come into care, will need a first dental and eye exam. This child will have loving cottage parents waiting upon her return from school with a kind word and a good snack.