Donuts with Dudes

Along with being a People Plant at Oxford, I am also a foster parent. 

This is something I do in the role of a single parent, and as a single parent, I know even at my best there are some roles I will never be able to fill. One of those is that I am simply not a dad. So maybe you can imagine the slight dip in my heart when Father’s day arrived and my little boy’s preschool announced “donuts with dudes”. It is inclusive language and for that I am thankful, but I know I am also not a dude. 

I sat with the invitation all week. Truth is, the vast majority of our support system is women. I told myself not to worry about it. I knew it would be low key and he probably wouldn’t even know he missed anything. 

But when the morning came around, there was still part of me that felt I was somehow letting him down. This kid who has already lost so much, missing out on one more thing.

We put on our shoes, grabbed our backpacks, and headed out the door. On this morning, we were picking up two of our older House of Hope boys to go do some yard work across town. They got in the car, both greeting little man with a fist bump and some loud boy noises. 

It occurred to me somewhere along the way, that I had in my car two “dudes” who just spent the entire car ride hyping up my son for his day. Two dudes who genuinely love and care for him. Two dudes who every time I see them, make a point to ask about him. 

So as I parked the car, I asked them if they liked donuts. Their faces lit up. “For Z? We got you”. There was no hesitation. 

As they sat at the table together, it struck me that this is what community is. There is a role I cannot fill no matter how hard I try. But someone else is standing in the gap. 

And not just anyone. These are wonderful young men who I had the honor of watching grow up over the years. Who have been intentionally poured into by so many people. Who are now growing up and choosing to see the needs of others and stand in the gap with love. 

And my family is being directly impacted by that. 

That morning wasn't just about donuts.

It was about seeing the kind of continued, generational community we've prayed for at House of Hope unfolding in real time.

My little guy didn't just have someone to take him to an event. He had two older boys who genuinely wanted to show up for him. As a foster mom, there are few gifts more meaningful than watching a child know they belong.

-Brooke