His Kids: Redemption Doesn't Always Shout

by Madison McCall

You Are Worth It, Founder

Yesterday, a four-year-old little girl came into the closet for the very first time. It was her first placement in foster care. We will name her Gia, and she is nonverbal. For four years of her short life, her world had been reduced to a playpen in the dark. No words, no freedom, no understanding of why. Just silence, fear, and unmet needs she could only express through tears.

When she arrived, she was scared, confused, and crying, not because she was “difficult,” but because she didn’t have language for the weight she carried. A staff member had the privilege of sitting with her- not to rush her, but simply to be there. In the closet, there’s a large wooden busy box covered in switches, latches, and moving pieces. Slowly and cautiously she sat down beside the staff member. For the next thirty minutes, they played together. No pressure and no demands, just presence.

The staff member watched her think. Seeing the intelligence in her eyes, the intention behind her hands. When something clicked into place the way she intended, the staff member clapped and softly said, “Good job!” At first, she just watched her. Then, about fifteen minutes in, Gia smiled, lifted her hands, and began clapping for herself.

In that moment, it was as if her world finally went quiet. As if love that was pure, patient, and undeserved love had finally reached her. She didn’t have words for it, but she felt it. And as that staff member sat there beside her, she heard God whisper, “You are where you are supposed to be.”

Gia had everything stacked against her for the first four years of her life. But God knew her story before she ever lived it. He knew the day would come when someone would sit on the floor with her and patiently wait. When someone would see her not as broken, but as precious. She may not be able to recognize God’s presence yet, but she felt it, in patience, in kindness, in celebration, and in love. Yesterday, in a small closet, God reminded that staff member that redemption doesn’t always come with loud miracles. Sometimes it comes quietly, through clapping hands, a shared smile, and a child realizing, for the first time, that she is safe and seen. ❤️