Foster Hope of North Carolina Inc, 2660 Yonkers Rd, Raleigh, NC (2026)

09/26/2026

Spending three days with over 2,500 people, from around the world, who love Jesus, and have a heart for vulnerable children…PRICELESS!!!

09/03/2026

**HOPE UNFOLDING**
*A Foster Hope Series*

Your Story Is Not Finished

Some children ask for connection quietly.

Others ask through behaviors that can be harder to understand.

One camper needed a great deal of attention throughout the week. Her smile did not come easily. It took time, patience, and the steady presence of adults who were willing to keep showing her that she was safe, wanted, and worth knowing.

Every year at camp, we give the campers to "write letters to God".

This is what her letter:

“Dear God,
I hope I can learn from my mistakes. I hope I can be better in the future so I don’t have to be bad. I hope my future will be bright and happy.”

Those words... they sting.

Not simply because she wanted to make better choices, but because of the way she described herself:

“So I don’t have to be bad.”

There is an enormous difference between believing "I did something bad" and believing "I am bad."

Children affected by trauma can begin to believe that their hardest moments define them and adults who only see only the behavior, help compound that belief in the child's mind and heart.

But behavior often tells only part of the story.

Behind a child demanding attention may be a child asking, "Will you notice me?"

Behind the walls may be a child wondering, "Is it safe to trust you?"

Behind the difficult moment may be a child who already believes something is fundamentally wrong with them.

At Royal Family KIDS Camp, we cannot erase everything a child has experienced. We cannot resolve every struggle in five days. But we can respond differently.

We can remain patient when emotions become big.

We can offer correction without shame.

We can give a child another opportunity after a difficult moment.

We can remind them through our words and our presence:

"You are not your worst decision!"
"You are not the hardest thing that has happened to you!"
"You are deeply loved by God, and your story is not finished!"

By the end of the week, we began to see her smile.

That does not mean every struggle disappeared or that we can guarantee what her future will hold. It means that, for a few days, she experienced adults who kept showing up—and she allowed a little more of herself to be seen.

But children do not stop needing those relationships when the camp bus pulls away.

That is why Foster Hope exists.

Our vision is to create a permanent, Christ-centered place of belonging, healing, and support—a place where children can return, relationships can continue, teens can be guided through the years ahead, and families can receive the support they need.

Royal Family KIDS Camp gives us a glimpse of what can happen when we look beyond a child’s behavior and remain long enough to discover what may be underneath it.

Foster Hope is the vision of carrying that work forward—not for only one week, but through years of faithful relationship.

Because no child should face the future believing they are defined by their past.

Their story is not finished. And neither is ours.

Learn more at fosterhopenc.com.

08/27/2026

HOPE UNFOLDING
A Foster Hope Series

Worth the Work

A few weeks ago, we shared a little about what it takes to make Royal Family KIDS Camp happen.
But after two weeks of camp, I think I see it a little differently.
Because what we witnessed during those two weeks didn’t begin when the bus arrived.
It started months earlier.

In January, our volunteer Leadership Team began meeting monthly to prepare for camp.
At that point, camp was still months away. Just a group of people beginning the work of preparing for children we hadn’t seen yet.

By February and March, our Child Placement Team began reaching out to families. Save-the-date postcards. Applications. Phone calls. Texts. Emails. They kept following up because on the other side of that application was a child we didn’t want to miss.

Then came training.
Every volunteer. Every year.
New volunteers complete online training and give up two Saturdays. Returning volunteers come back and train again.
We talk about safety. Trauma. TBRI. Rules. Logistics. Culture.
We talk about what it means to serve children affected by childhood trauma well.
There are no shortcuts. Because when the difficult moment comes, the child standing in front of us deserves more than our good intentions.

Before camp, our Leadership Team, social workers, and Child Placement Team prayerfully build each cabin. We consider what we know about our campers alongside the personalities and strengths of our counselors.

Our nurses prepare for the health and medication needs that have been shared with us so that when a child arrives Monday morning, we’re ready to care for that child well.

Our teams prepare activities.
People use PTO.
Families sacrifice time together.
This summer, 120 volunteers prepared to give five days (or, in some cases, ten) of themselves to children many of them had never met.
That’s a lot of work.

But these two weeks reminded me of something:
We aren’t just preparing a camp. We’re building a culture.
We talk a lot within our team about how we serve.
We serve the kids.
We serve each other.
We pay attention.
We stay flexible.
When there’s a gap, we fill it.
When something needs to be done, we don’t spend a lot of time worrying about whose job it is.
We do it.

And this year, we watched that culture get tested.
There were moments when things didn’t go according to plan.
There were difficult situations that required several volunteers to completely step away from what they were supposed to be doing.
And other people stepped in.
Responsibilities were picked up.
Gaps were filled.
Activities continued.
Counselors were supported.
Camp kept moving.
And children kept being served.

You don’t really know your culture until it’s under pressure.
This summer, we got to see ours.
And here’s what struck me:
That culture didn’t suddenly appear when things got hard.
It had been built.
And then the bus arrives.
The planning becomes names and faces.
The cabin assignments become relationships.
The training gets tested in real situations.
And all that work becomes something much more important.
A child gets to simply be a kid for five days.
A camper who struggles to trust begins trusting an adult.
Siblings who don’t always get to be together wrap their arms around each other.
An 11-year-old leaves camp hearing that greatness isn’t reserved for someone else.
A child who has gone to a very dark place discovers there are people willing to stay nearby until the light begins to return.
A caregiver who has received that call from other camps before…
doesn’t receive it this time.

So after months of planning, training, phone calls, meetings, prayers, PTO, long days, difficult moments, and a whole lot of tired volunteers, there’s a question worth asking: Was it worth the work? Every bit of it. Because the kids are worth the work.

But there’s something else these two weeks reminded me:
Camp is five days. Their stories are much longer.
Royal Family KIDS Camp is one way Foster Hope serves children affected by childhood trauma.
But it’s not the finish line.

We want to walk alongside children beyond camp.
We want to support foster, adoptive, and kinship families who are doing the hard work of caring for them.
We want to invest in biological families working toward reunification.
And we want to create opportunities for churches, businesses, and individuals throughout our community to step into this work with us.

Because Foster Hope was never meant to be one program serving one group of people.
We’re building a community around children affected by childhood trauma.
A community where people can discover where they fit, be equipped to serve well, and then be easily plugged into meaningful opportunities to make a difference.
And if we’re going to build something capable of that kind of reach, adding people isn’t enough.
We have to keep building the culture.
A culture that prepares.
A culture that listens.
A culture that serves.
A culture that doesn’t scare easily when things get hard.
A culture that recognizes our limits and depends on God.
A culture that stays.
Because ultimately, none of this is about building a bigger organization.
It’s about increasing our capacity to serve children well.

There is more work ahead.
A lot more.
And after everything we witnessed these past two weeks, I’m more convinced than ever...

They’re worth the work.

08/20/2026

Before we share this story:
To protect the dignity and privacy of the camper involved, certain details have been intentionally generalized or omitted. The photos accompanying this post show the camp environment and are not connected to the specific events described.

HOPE UNFOLDING
A Foster Hope Series

We Specialize in Staying

I found myself saying something several times to our team during this second week of Royal Family KIDS Camp:

We specialize in this.

Not because we have all the answers.

Not because trauma doesn’t overwhelm us sometimes.

And certainly not because every situation ends the way we want it to.

But we have intentionally built a ministry that is prepared to serve children whose stories can make trust difficult.

Children who may struggle in environments that work well for other kids.

Children for whom being safe and feeling safe can be two very different things.

And sometimes, serving those children means staying.

This week was hard.

There were moments when campers became deeply dysregulated. Moments when multiple trained adults were needed to keep everyone safe. Moments when all the preparation, training, TBRI, experience, and good intentions we brought into camp were put to the test.

There was one particularly difficult moment when I had the privilege of staying near a camper who had gone to a very dark place.

I want to be careful about how much of that story I share.

That moment belongs to this child, not to us.

But I can tell you what it meant to me.

My wife and I had the privilege of staying close while a team surrounded us to make sure everyone remained safe.

There wasn’t a magic phrase.

There wasn’t a quick solution.

There was patience.

There was calm.

There was using what this child’s caregiver had taught us about what might help.

And there was time.

A lot of time.

Eventually, there was a small response.

Then another.

And slowly, we watched this child transition from darkness back toward the light.

I cannot adequately describe what a privilege that was.

To be invited into one of the darkest places in a child’s story…

and to be allowed to stay there until the light began to return.

Later that day, this camper came looking for us.

That part broke me.

Because during the hardest moments, everything seemed to communicate:

I don’t want you here.

But we stayed.

We weren’t waiting for gratitude.

We weren’t expecting an apology.

We weren’t trying to earn a hug.

We stayed because, in that moment, staying was what love required.

And then, hours later, this child sought us out and wrapped arms around us.

I’ll never forget that hug.

All week, we had been telling our campers:

Jesus knows you.

He sees you.

He loves you.

Sometimes we communicate that through worship and Bible teaching.

Sometimes through laughter, celebration, and five days of allowing a child to simply be a kid.

And sometimes we communicate it by staying close when everything gets hard.

That’s what I mean when I say:

We specialize in staying.

It doesn’t mean there are never boundaries.

There are.

It doesn’t mean there aren’t situations when protecting all of the children entrusted to us requires an incredibly difficult decision.

There are.

And it certainly doesn’t mean we always get everything right.

We don’t.

It means we prepare ourselves to enter the hard places.

We listen to caregivers because they know their children.

We train our volunteers because good intentions aren’t enough.

We surround children with people who understand that sometimes what looks like rejection, anger, or defiance has a much deeper story behind it.

And when things get hard, our first instinct isn’t:

How quickly can we make this problem go away?

It’s how can we love this child well right here?

At the end of the week, I had the opportunity to speak with this camper’s caregiver.

I told her about the difficult moments.

But more importantly, I told her what an absolute privilege it had been to walk through the darkness, and stay nearby until her child could journey back toward the light.

Her eyes filled with tears.

And then she told me something I didn’t know.

She had tried camps before.

Different kinds of camps.

But at some point, when things became too difficult, she would get the call.

You need to come get your child.

So when she entrusted her child to us for five days, she knew that call might come again.

And after the week we’d just experienced, I understood why that mattered so much.

Because there were hard moments.

There were moments when staying required more of us.

There were moments when this child couldn’t feel the safety we were desperately trying to provide.

But there were also moments of laughter.

Activities.

Meals around a table.

Worship.

Relationships.

Positive memories.

And a hug I will never forget.

For five days, this child got to experience camp.

And for this caregiver, this time, the call never came.

08/10/2026

HOPE UNFOLDING
A Foster Hope Series

We Don't Do Safe

If you've been following Hope Unfolding, that title probably sounds a little strange.
Because we are very intentional about making sure our campers are safe while at Royal Family KIDS Camp.
We spend hours training and planning for it.
We prepare for behaviors, triggers, medications, cabin assignments, counselor pairings, bathroom runs, and details most people will never know we've considered.
We want every child who steps off that bus today to know:
You are safe here.

So yes...
We absolutely do safe.
Except for one thing...Our prayers.
Those aren't safe at all.

Yesterday, all volunteers arrived at camp around lunchtime. After lunch, we took our team photo, and then began one of my favorite parts of the entire week. Our prayer walk.

We split into four groups and began walking the campus.

At the pool, gym, and field, we talked about what will happen there this week. Campers will swim every day. The gym is ready if rain changes our plans. And Wednesday night, that field will come alive for our carnival.

Then we made our way to the Tower, the round building at the center of camp. It's where campers will build something in woodworking, work on STEM projects, create in arts & crafts, race RC cars, and where our girls have their own dress-up area.

From there, we walked through the main building—the dining hall where we'll share meals and the Programs Room where campers will experience worship, Bible teaching, object lessons, and skits.

Eventually, we made our way down toward the water (we call it The Cove). Today, campers will be fishing from the pier, paddling canoes across the lake, racing RC boats.

But yesteray afternoon, it was quiet.
And that's really the point.
At every stop, before all of these places are filled with laughter and activity, we talked through expectations and logistics:
Where do counselors sit?
How do we handle bathroom runs?
What does everyone need to know about this area?
We shared a few stories from years past.
And then...
We prayed.

We prayed for safety, of course.
But we didn't stop there.
We asked God to make His presence tangible to the children who will experience these places starting today.
We asked Him to show Himself in ways these kids can understand.
At the pool.
Around the dinner table.
During worship.
Sitting in a canoe.
Building something in woodworking.
Or maybe through a conversation with a counselor when a child needs it most.

Then we came back together near the cabins.
The cabins were empty too.
But this time, we knew exactly who we were waiting for.

We separated—men to the five boys' cabins and women to the five girls' cabins.
And we started praying…by name.

Before any camper ever set foot on campus, their name was being spoken in prayer inside the cabin that will become their home for the week.
We prayed for the two counselors who will serve them.
For wisdom.
Grace.
Patience.
Discernment.
And endurance.
And we prayed for the four children who, at that moment, hadn't even gotten on the bus yet.
We asked God to begin working in their hearts before they ever arrived.
We prayed specifically for what will happen in just a few hours.
That first moment when a camper steps off the bus and meets their counselors.
Before we've earned their trust.
Before we've had the opportunity to show them they're safe.
God, let them sense that something is different about this place.
Let them feel wanted.
Let them feel known.
Let them feel safe.
And then we prayed even bigger.
We asked for divine intervention.
We asked for God's presence to be unmistakable in this place.
We asked for His anointing to be felt throughout the entire campus.
We asked Him to go before us into every cabin, every activity, every conversation, and every relationship.
These aren't safe prayers.
They're bold prayers.

Because as much as we prepare—and believe me, we do prepare—we recognize the limits of what we can do.
We can train.
We can plan.
We can create an environment designed to be safe, loving, and full of joy.
But there are things these children need that we simply cannot provide.
Only God can.

So yesterday, while camp was still quiet, we asked Him to do what only He can do.
Today, we get to watch those prayers begin to unfold.

Because in just a few hours...the bus arrives.

08/05/2026

HOPE UNFOLDING
A Foster Hope Series

Together Again

One of the greatest privileges I have as a Camp Director at Royal Family KIDS Camp is witnessing moments that many people never get to see. I never take that privilege lightly.

A brother spots his sister across camp.
A little sister catches a glimpse of her big brother.
They lock eyes.
Then they run.
Big smiles.
Big hugs.
Laughter.
For a few moments...They're not thinking about foster care. They're not thinking about court dates. They're not thinking about visits. They're simply brother and sister again.

Most people don't realize this isn't something every child in foster care gets to experience. When a child enters foster care, the goal is always safe reunification with their biological family whenever possible. But while that journey unfolds, siblings are often placed in different homes. Sometimes it's because a foster family doesn't have room for every child. Sometimes it's because each sibling has different needs. And sometimes, being separated is simply the safest decision.

Whatever the reason...The result is often the same. Brothers and sisters who once shared a home no longer get to share everyday life. For some of our campers, Royal Family KIDS Camp is one of the only times all year they get to see their siblings. Think about that for a moment. The person who knows your childhood...Who remembers your home... Who understands your story better than almost anyone else... Becomes someone you only get to see once in a while. That's why these moments mean so much.
The hugs are a little longer.
The smiles are a little bigger.
Even the conversations seem different.

Watching these reunions reminds me that God often works through moments we might otherwise overlook.
A hug.
A laugh.
A shared memory.
A few hours spent together.
Those things matter. They're also a glimpse into what we're building through Foster Hope. We believe children impacted by childhood trauma deserve more than one unforgettable week. They deserve places where relationships are strengthened. Where families are encouraged. Where healing can continue long after camp is over.

Royal Family KIDS Camp is one chapter of that story. Our prayer is that it's only the beginning.

Because sometimes...Hope looks like a brother and sister finding each other again.

How many moments like this never happen simply because there's no place to bring brothers and sisters together?

07/27/2026

HOPE UNFOLDING
A Foster Hope Series

Letting Go

One of the hardest parts of Royal Family KIDS Camp isn't saying goodbye to every camper.

It's saying goodbye to our 11-year-old campers.

On the bus ride to camp Monday morning, you can hear the excitement in their voices.

"Do we still have canoes?"
"Do we still get to do archery?"
"Is so-and-so coming back this year?"

Those questions may sound simple, but they reveal something much deeper.

Camp has become familiar.
It has become a place they know.
A place where they belong.
A place where they have experienced safety, joy, and unconditional love.

Deep down, they know this is their final summer at Royal Family KIDS Camp.

But on Monday...

That reality hasn't quite settled in yet.

The week is filled with adventure.
They laugh with old friends.
They build new friendships.
They enjoy all the camp traditions they've come to love.

And because this is their final year, they also experience two adventures reserved just for them—tree climbing and scuba diving.

It's a full week.
A joyful week.
A week they wish could last forever.

Then Thursday evening arrives.

Something changes.

The excitement gives way to quiet reflection.

The realization begins to settle over them.

Tomorrow, they'll pack their bags.
Tomorrow, they'll get back on the bus.
Tomorrow, they'll leave behind a place that has become part of their story.

And for the first time...

Many of them realize there won't be another Royal Family KIDS Camp waiting for them next summer.

Friday morning is always one of the greatest honors—and one of the hardest moments—of my week.

As our chapel service comes to a close, I have the privilege of standing before these young men and women one final time.

Not simply to say goodbye.

But to launch them.

There are smiles.
There is laughter.
And there are always tears.

Together, we celebrate who they've become and speak life into who they're still becoming.

We remind them they are not defined by the abuse, neglect, or abandonment they've experienced.

They are known by God.
They matter.
They have incredible value.
They have gifts to offer the world.
Greatness isn't reserved for someone else.
It's possible for them.

Then we pray over them...
..and send them into the next chapter of their lives.

The bus ride home feels different.

The conversations are quieter.

The excitement of Monday has been replaced by a heaviness that settles over the bus.

Everyone knows something special has come to an end.

As directors, Joy and I would love to keep every camper forever.

But that's never been the goal.

Our calling is to love them well for the season we've been given...
..and then encourage them to keep walking toward the future God has for them.

It's also one of the reasons Foster Hope exists.

We believe children impacted by childhood trauma deserve more than one unforgettable week.

They deserve caring adults who continue to believe in them.

They deserve opportunities to grow, discover their gifts, and develop into the leaders God created them to be.

Royal Family KIDS Camp may be the closing chapter of one season.

Our hope is that, through Foster Hope, it's also the beginning of the next.

Because while camp ends...

Hope doesn't.

07/21/2026

here was a moment on the bus ride home from Week 1 of Royal Family KIDS Camp that perfectly captured why Foster Hope exists.

Earlier in the week, one of our campers experienced some really hard moments. Big emotions. Dysregulation. The kind of moments that remind you a child isn't giving you a hard time—they're having a hard time.

My role wasn't to fix him.

It was simply to stay with him.

To help him feel safe.

To remind him he wasn't alone.

And eventually, trust began to replace fear.

Then, on the bus ride home, as we made our way back from camp, he looked at me and quietly said,

"You're my favorite."

I smiled, but the truth is...

I don't think he was really telling me I was his favorite.

I think, for one brief moment, he believed what we'd been telling him all week.

That he was known.

That he was seen.

That he mattered.

And isn't that exactly what Jesus says in John 10:27?

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me."

Those three words—

"I know them."

—became the heartbeat of our week.

Every day, we reminded our campers of one simple truth:

Jesus knows you.

He sees you.

For children who have experienced childhood trauma, those words can change everything.

Many of our campers returned this year, and watching them step off the bus on Monday felt less like arriving at camp and more like coming home. They weren't wondering if they belonged.

They already knew.

And for our first-time campers, any apprehension quickly disappeared as they discovered this was a place where they were welcomed exactly as they are.

One of my favorite moments of the week was Tuesday night's Game Night.

On the surface, it looked like organized chaos.

But beneath all the laughter, something much more important was happening.

Relationships were forming.

Trust was growing.

Children were realizing they belonged.

Those moments matter far more than winning a game.

Then Friday came.

It always does.

By Thursday afternoon, everyone could feel it. Camp was coming to an end, and nobody wanted it to.

One of the most meaningful moments each year is celebrating our 11-year-old campers as they graduate from Royal Family KIDS Camp. Having one final opportunity to speak life into them, pray over them, and remind them who they are—and whose they are—is one of the greatest privileges I have each summer.

As I looked around camp this week, I found myself watching our volunteers more than anything else.

They're incredible.

Not because they're extraordinary people.

But because God continues to do extraordinary things through ordinary people who are simply willing to show up and love children well.

They quietly serve.

They encourage one another.

They step in before they're asked.

They sacrifice sleep.

They give away their energy.

And somehow, even at the end of a long day, they still find another smile for a child who needs one.

Every year I'm amazed at how quickly our first-year volunteers embrace the culture of honor, compassion, and servant leadership that has been built over the past 27 years.

To our incredible leadership team—thank you. Joy and I know the countless hours spent planning, preparing, praying, and serving behind the scenes that make weeks like this possible. It is an honor to carry this ministry alongside you.

To Cross Assembly, thank you for faithfully sponsoring Royal Family KIDS Camp and believing that every child deserves a week filled with joy, safety, belonging, and unconditional love.

As we reflect on the first week of Royal Family KIDS Camp, one thought keeps coming back to us.

If every meeting...
Every training...
Every donation...
Every prayer...
Every hour of preparation...
Every difficult conversation...
Every mile driven...
..resulted in just one child leaving camp believing they are loved, known, seen, and deeply cherished...

It would all be worth it.

The beautiful thing is...

It wasn't just one.

Royal Family KIDS Camp is only one ministry of Foster Hope, but it reflects the heart behind everything we do.

We exist to create Christ-centered places of belonging, healing, and hope for children and families impacted by childhood trauma.

If this story resonates with you, we'd love to connect. Whether you'd like to volunteer, pray, partner with us, or simply learn more about Foster Hope, we'd love to have that conversation.

In 3 weeks, another bus will arrive.

Another group of children will step into a place where they're known, seen, and loved.

We'd be honored if you'd join us in praying over every camper, every volunteer, and every moment that lies ahead.

Because hope rarely changes the world all at once.

Sometimes...

It begins with one safe place.

One trusted adult.

One unforgettable week.

One child.

Because every story of hope starts with someone who chooses to care.

02/13/2026

Last Sunday was such an encouraging day. We had the honor of sharing the vision of Foster Hope at all three services at our home church, — and we made some incredible connections after each one.

We’re so thankful to be part of a church that not only believes in the mission, but actively supports it. Your prayers, encouragement, and support mean more than you know.

If you’re a pastor or church leader in North Carolina who would be open to hearing the vision of Foster Hope and how your church can be part of serving children, teens, and families impacted by childhood trauma, we would d love to connect.

You can watch the presentation here (scroll forward to 28:10 to see both RFKC promo and Foster Hope presentation) https://www.youtube.com/live/aeRReuAnxA8?si=LnVFVV0hOxkJ8Jvs

Foster Hope of North Carolina Inc

09/26/2026

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