Sarah works as a nurse at Community Hospital of Ottawa. She previously worked as a nurse at Gateway Sevices, an agency that helps local disabled folks.


Jon is eighteen years old and six foot, seven inches tall. He has signed to play Division One basketball next school year at Colgate University.

When Jon was six years old, his Grandma disowned his mom (me) and her family. The cutting off came after broke the silence and secrets of my extended family on the topic of sexual abuse.

Feeling shocked, shunned and rejected by the majority of my extended family was painful for everyone in our family (understatement). The Foss family received support from John Lehman, Anne Stewart and all the brothers and sisters at PCF. The healing journey has spanned twelve years since the initial rejection. Twelve years of our children's childhood. Twelve years since my mom had been in our home. Each summer on our trip to northern Minnesota we never knew what sort of reception we'd receive from my relatives.

God brought so much healing to me in those twelve years. A long, painful, seemingly never-ending drudgery through dark, murky, muddy, yucky terrain. Yet Jesus continued to speak the truth. I felt His love, protection and warm embrace over and over. It sustained me through the shadows of death. It brought me out of the miry clay on to the Rock to stay!

After years of misery, God had set me free from past hurts and pain connected with my mom. I had continued to do small steps of kindnesses for my mom, never expecting her to respond in kind. Last fall her sister died. I drove the 650 miles to her funeral. At the funeral I saw my youngest brother, Joel, for the first time in over 14 years. He embraced me and sobbed. As we stood embracing I wondered what he was thinking. He said, “I remember you holding me”. I was sixteen. He was two years old during one of my stepfather's drunken rages. Joel was remembering my love and protection of him in that memory.


A long, painful,seemingly never-ending drudgery through dark, murky, muddy, yucky terrain. Yet Jesus continued to speak the truth.


Later my mom said, “When I saw Joel sobbing on your shoulder, I realized for the first time that it wasn't just me who had been traumatized. You kids were even more traumatized.”

I knew February 16, 2002 was going to be an emotional day. It was the last home basketball game at Princeton High School and it was Senior Parent Night. Rich and I had spent many hours in gymnasiums for the last twelve years watching our three children excel in sports. The joy of the gym contrasted with the grief of family pain. God blessed us with this “gym joy” in the midst of much pain. This chapter of joy was coming to a close on the evening of February 16.
At 10 am on February 16, Sarah answered the phone. My brother Carl asked, “What's for dinner tonight?”

“Where are you?” I said.

“Mom and I are in Princeton. We came to watch Jon's last home game,” Carl said.

My heart surged with joy. A miracle— GOD HAS DONE A MIRACLE.

After twelve years my mom surprised us all by traveling 650 miles to see her grandson's final home basketball game. God had woven redemption and basketball over twelve years of time. A reminder to never give up. To be surprised by God's mysterious ways. Joy and loss mixed together screaming of God's redemption. Praise and thank the Lord!