Kristin Hill Taylor

Seeking God as the Author of Every Story

The care of a village

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With Mother’s Day happening this weekend, I’m excited to introduce a series about being better together in honor of Foster Care Awareness Month. When I asked for volunteers from our Adoption Together group, I loved seeing my friend Hailey be quick to want to share a piece of her story with y’all. She’s one of those friends I adore but don’t get to see enough of in everyday life. Welcome her to the porch today!

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They say it takes a village – and oh what a village the foster care system can bring about you.

When we signed up to foster and committed to the many hours of trainings and stacks of paperwork, we did not go around and ask our friends and family to foster with us. As our foster journey began, it was the village who prayed for us. It was the village who put together a surprise shower to help us have a supply of items ready when we got a call for a placement. It was the village who showed up on those nights we found out we had kids coming to stay in our home and we needed to redo the room setups quickly. It was the village who sent money to help get clothes for kids. It was the village who dropped food off in the midst of the crazy season of transition. It was the village who called and sent a text, who listened to our hearts, our hurt, our anger, and our frustration. It was the village who stepped in and loved whatever kids that entered our home with the love of Jesus. It was the village who offered to keep the kids for a little while so we could take a breather. It was the village who called us over for playdates. It was the village who helped shuffle kids from place to place.

We have been foster parents for more than two years but started this journey three years ago. We have fostered infants to teenagers. During this time, we have walked through some of our darkest days and yet God has still shown us how faithful He is. We aren’t foster parents, or biological parents, or adoptive parents. We are just parents trying to love the kids God has given us in the best way we know how.

Our village isn’t a thing of the past. It is actually still very real and very alive, surrounding us and supporting us in the highs and lows of the fostering journey. This village is the real deal. These people are the cheerleaders. They are the shoulders to cry on. They are the prayer warriors.

When you are a foster parent, you will learn sometimes the ones you thought would be key people in your village won’t be. You will also quickly see how God brings in new people to your village you might not have known otherwise.

The foster care system is made up of many people and sometimes the path isn’t clear. There are so many heroes in these stories, but I can’t help but feel the village may just have the biggest impact. They didn’t sign up for this, but they stepped up and showed up in a mighty way. That is love. That is a village. What a blessing our village is, to us, and to every kid who enters our home.

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Hailey Roach has been married to her high school sweetheart, Jordan, for the five years. They live in western Kentucky on Hailily Farms, the place where many wonderful dreams are being fostered. She’s an elementary special education teacher and he is the preacher at a local church in our sweet little town.

She’s a teenager!

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Happy THIRTEENTH birthday, Catherine Anna! How is that even possible? You made me a mom, and, in so many ways, we’ve grown up together.

I know you want to take some friends to an escape room and the mall to celebrate, but we obviously can’t do that right now in these social-distancing days. We’re going to make you grilled chicken, baked potatoes, squash and zucchini, and chocolate cake tonight. And we’ll keep on celebrating your precious life.

You finish seventh grade in two days. It’s been a great school year that got interrupted when we started non-traditional instruction days almost two months ago. But you’ve thrived anyway. You’ve learned alongside your school friends on Google Hangouts and Google Classroom. You’ve loved having some expanded access to technology at home and keep up with your friends that way.

You bravely started playing basketball this past winter. We pushed you a tiny bit to play on the school team when you expressed interest, but that’s all it took for you to go all in. You were part of your school’s first-ever middle school girls’ basketball team, which won some games and got beat by 30 in other games. I am incredibly proud of how you tried something new, got out on that court in front of a crowd, and had a great attitude regardless of the score. You improved with each practice and game, but, most importantly, I saw you belong on a team and find some common ground with your brother. I love watching you love something, and seeing that overflow into other parts of your life. You create art with basketballs on it. The dynamic in your small middle school class shifted as several of you and your friends bonded over your new sport love.

You’re an awesome big sister. You help mother Ben and Rachel — even when they don’t like it. I trust you to do what you say you’re going to do. You care about our family and how everyone fits together. You’re fun to play board games with, even if you regularly beat me in Splendor. With all this time at home lately, I’ve enjoyed watching musical reality shows with you. We’re making our way through The Voice, Songland, and The Masked Singer. Of course, I love watching and talking Survivor with you too.

Your faith is quiet but steady. You’re a reliable daughter, sister, and friend. You have lots of ideas — and most don’t revolve around keeping your room organized! But you are quick to help me make dinner or ask what you can do to help. I don’t understand your love of Crocs, scrunchies, or distressed jeans, but I’m obviously not as cool as you.

I love who you are, Cate. You’re easy to parent and a joy to be around. Just don’t be so hard on yourself.

Love, Mom

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Look back on Cate’s life through other letters and birthday posts: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Baptism. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Hello, 41.

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Hello, 41.

I had a lot of feelings anticipating this birthday – none of which have to with turning a prime number. Rather, I’ve been deep in reflections that come with marking another year. As many of you know, my dad died unexpectedly less than a week after I turned 40 and my family learned things about his life that rocked our world. That led to grieving during my favorite season and shifting perspectives about belonging. (I wrote about that, so feel free to look back: Reflections on living & dying and Seasons of belonging.)

Now, a year later, I’m finding myself isolated again but because of different circumstances. Spring is full of birthdays in my immediate family and with our best friends. Anticipating this round of birthdays looking different was hard on me at first.

And then I decided to embrace it.

I started celebrating a few days early. I’m extroverted enough that I am longing for face-to-face connections, so I was especially happy to get visitors. We did a decent job socially distancing ourselves. Jaclyn brought me lunch (and a Diet Strawberry Limeade!) on Friday. Then Saturday, Courtney showed up with flowers and Kim brought a chocolate chip pie. Sweetness, literally! As an initiator of plans and connections, having someone else reach out to me is a gift. Of course, I’ve had some time lately to process all my thoughts and feelings, so that’s been another gift.

Greg also asked me a few times what I wanted to do for my birthday. It took me a while to come up with an answer: Make myself homemade cinnamon rolls and start a “garden” with some potted vegetable plants – and I wanted my family to help me with these things. So that’s what we did this weekend, and that seems appropriate for this season. Of course, the cinnamon rolls failed because the dough didn’t rise, even though we followed the instructions, including how to substitute instant yeast for active dry yeast because that’s all I could find last week when I was grocery shopping. Here’s the hoping the tomato, zucchini, and pepper plants are more successful! Our pool is open, but the water was 62 degrees last time I checked!

Tara left bagels on my door step. Greg and Ben made me pancakes and sausage for breakfast. Greg and Cate put together a video of birthday greetings from family and friends that they’d collected without me knowing. I cried almost immediately, and the happy tears continued while I watched different people I love bless me with their words during this weird time.

Today is Social Distancing Day 51 for us, so I’ve settled in here. I’ve remembered the smaller circle of belonging that brought me comfort last summer in the midst of grief. I’ve found ways to connect to people I care about, even if I’m missing them in my daily life.

Really, it’s been a valuable year: I’ve learned about adjusting and appreciating what is right in front of me this past year. I’ve found the beauty in slowing down and living my best life with my few closest people. I’ve learned to play some new board games. I’ve gotten to travel and then come home to explore places right here. I wrote a book that I’m working on self-publishing. I’ve read more fiction and been more selective about non-fiction. I’ve deepened my relationship with my Creator and Rescuer.

I’d say that a good year, even if it had some hard surprises. So, here’s to another year and all the lessons and gifts it’ll bring, including cinnamon rolls made by someone other than me.