by Mike Peercy, Executive Director of Fostering Grace
We are in a slower-than-usual bounce back mode from a rare winter storm in the flatland. Like much of the country, we had a thick coating of ice (mostly) and snow. Schools have been closed and events have been cancelled and grocery shelves have been ransacked.
More often than not, when we have a winter storm in Oklahoma, the bulk of the accumulation melts off in just a day or two. It’s taking a little longer this time. While we don’t do as much plowing in our part of the world as in others, there are still these huge piles of snow/ice in places where the roads or parking lots have been (mostly) cleared. Those huge piles are usually dirty, kind of ugly, and they last a lot longer than any of the residual snow and ice around them.
Why is that?
Well, we know that the temperature doesn’t simply have to get above freezing for it to all disappear. It has to warm up far enough and for long enough for it to all melt away.
I work with a lot of foster and adoptive families who will tell you that much of the relational trauma (that is a universal reality for kids in the child welfare system) is a lot like those huge piles of snow.
It doesn’t just melt.
It can melt. But it doesn’t just melt away because the surroundings improve.
The residual trauma inherent with kids from hard places is… ugly. It often gets shoved into a sort of emotional closet on which the door doesn’t quite shut. And it spills out in some scary ways from time to time. And much like the huge, ugly piles of snow and ice…
It doesn’t just melt.
When a child is brought into a setting that is safe and supportive and gracious and compassionate, there is much that can be done to help wear away that pile of hurt. There are so many therapeutic resources, so many compassionate techniques that can help the healing to progress. But…
It doesn’t just melt.
But there is this expectation—one of the most common myths surrounding foster care and adoption—that love is simply enough. It’s not. Love needs skill. Love needs tools. Caring deeply for someone doesn’t make the hurt in their story disappear. It can be redeemed. It can be healed. But…
It doesn’t just melt.
Like the giant piles of snow and ice, dirty and dingy and crusty, it will take significant warmth and significant time for the wounds of the past to become scars as badges of healing. It will take a lot of willingness to just live with the ugliness from the past to give it time and grace to heal. It will take a lot of determination to see the immense value of the person and not be distracted by the things that have happened to them. It will take a deep awareness that…
It doesn’t just melt.
I urge you to be reminded with me by the huge, ugly, piles of snow and ice left behind from the storm that this great lesson is worth holding onto:
It doesn’t just melt.


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