The Power of Two Caring Adults by Madalyn, T.R.A.C. Volunteer & Foster Mom

He is the oldest of nine siblings and the only one in foster care.

Before coming into care, CJ carried more than his share of pain. Sixteen years of trauma, broken trust, spoken labels, and unmet needs had shaped how he saw himself. Self‑worth has been his greatest battle. He genuinely believed the lies spoken over him, that he was not worthy of a future, that he did not deserve good things, that his story would end exactly where others said it would.

One of the hardest truths about welcoming a teenager into your home is this: you have very little time. Very little time to undo years of hurt. Very little time to counter the damage done by words and actions that should never have defined a child. That has been our greatest challenge, unlearning what others spoke over him before he ever walked through our door.

Yet God, in His kindness, had already been preparing the way.

Our relationship with CJ began at Teen Reach Adventure Camp. T.R.A.C. was not just a camp experience for him; it was a bridge. Through shared moments, consistency, and genuine care, trust was slowly built. By the time CJ entered our home, he told us it felt unreal, like he was dreaming. He could not believe this was real life, being wanted simply for who he was, not for what he could provide or prove.

For the first time, CJ experienced what it means to live in a home where love is not earned. A home where nothing is expected of you except to be yourself.

Having younger children in our home became an unexpected gift. They broke down walls we didn’t even know were there. They drew out the little boy inside him, the one who never really had permission to exist. He loves them deeply and has formed strong bonds with each of them. Still, he often told us, “I don’t know how to be a brother. I don’t know how to be part of a family.”

In the early months, when rules were broken or mistakes were made at school or at home, we responded in ways he didn’t expect. We didn’t yell. We didn’t threaten. We didn’t take things away. Instead, we talked. We talked about choices, about feelings, about consequences, and about how our actions affect others. Again and again, we showed him what grace looks like lived out.

CJ once told us he didn’t deserve a future. That all he would ever become was what everyone else expected of him. And time and time again, we spoke truth back over him: You are our son. You belong to this family. You are worthy of everything good God has planned for you.

We listened. We fought for him. And we proved (over and over) that our love was not conditional. That those mistakes would not make us walk away.

Then came the breaking point.

CJ ran away.

When he returned, everything changed. We sat together and spoke honestly, about how terrified we were that he was gone, about how deeply it affected our other children, and about the truth that if he truly wanted to break free from everything spoken over him, he would have to choose to step fully into this family and the opportunities placed before him. The choice, we told him, would always be his. We could open the door, but he had to walk through it.

That night, he hugged me for the first time—and he didn’t let go.

My husband tells CJ every day that he loves him. Until that night, CJ had never said it back. That night, he did.

Throughout this journey, we prayed constantly often at the end of ourselves asking God for wisdom, guidance, and strength. More than once, we felt we had no idea what to do next. But we knew this: we could not give up.

And God showed up.

He reminded us that we are not in control; He is. God asked us to release our expectations and trust Him to write CJ’s story. In doing so, He made space for CJ to experience unconditional love not just spoken but lived.

Since coming home, CJ has changed. His posture is different. His outlook is different. For the first time in his life, he is dreaming about the future. He talks about college. About career goals. About possibilities he never knew were available to him.

All because someone said yes.

All because God called and we answered.

We know this journey is not over. We will continue to remind CJ again and again that he is loved, that he belongs, and that he is worthy of the plans God has for his life. But every small moment of joy, every glimpse of hope, every time he calls our house “home,” makes it worth it.

To see him become a brother to our children. To hear him speak about life beyond foster care. To watch him believe little by little that his story can be different.

That is the power of two caring adults.

And we will be forever grateful to T.R.A.C. for the role it played, and for the son we gained because of it.