True Vine Tuesday: Why I Serve as a CASA

“We may not all be called to foster or adopt but we are all called to do something.”

I first heard this quote during a training session at our church, and it has stayed with me. It shaped the way I think about serving others and challenged me to consider what my “something” might be. For me, that “something” is serving as a CASA—a Court Appointed Special Advocate—and being a voice for vulnerable children when they have none.

Children often enter the system by no fault of their own, yet they often suffer the deepest consequences of others’ actions—or in some cases, inaction. Abuse, neglect, instability, and trauma are realities no child should have to face, yet so many do. What makes it even more complex is that most of these kids still truly love their biological parents, even if those parents have harmed them. That tension can be confusing and painful for a child to process.

Many of these children struggle to understand what a safe, loving, stable environment truly looks like. Furthermore, they may not realize they deserve that kind of environment. As a CASA, part of my role is to help them to begin to see their own worth—to remind them they are valuable, they matter, their voice matters, and they deserve to feel safe and loved regardless of what brought them into the system.

One of my favorite parts of being a CASA is relationship building. My goal is to develop a relationship with each child that promotes trust, a sense of safety, and a relationship in which the child feels seen, heard, worthy, and valued. Developing that safe relationship involves gaining the child's trust. I get to know who they are—their likes and dislikes, their fears and worries, their personalities, passions, and dreams. Sometimes building that relationship looks like showing up to a soccer game and cheering them on from the sidelines. Other times, it’s attending a school concert or event and celebrating their accomplishments, no matter how big or small. It might be visiting with them in their home, playing games together, riding bikes, exploring a nearby park, or sitting with them in the hard and messy moments. While these efforts may seem simple, for a child who has experienced instability, they can mean everything. Developing this type of relationship does not happen overnight. A trusting relationship, especially with children who have experienced trauma, takes time, patience, and consistency.

Of course, not every child is immediately receptive to this kind of relationship. Some children are hesitant, guarded, or even resistant. And honestly, that makes sense. Many of them have experienced broken trust with adults in their lives, so it’s natural for them to question my intentions or keep their distance.

That resistance can be extremely challenging. I have had to learn not every child will connect with me in the way I hope. But my responsibility doesn’t change based on their response. My “job” remains the same: keep showing up. Keep reminding them they are loved, valuable, and they deserve a safe, stable, and nurturing environment. That said, it certainly makes things a little easier (and a lot more fun) when they actually look forward to seeing me.

While there are many rewarding moments in this work, there are also some incredibly difficult ones. One of the hardest parts of being a CASA is when the court makes a decision I do not feel is in the best interest of the child.

Recently, I was involved in a case that continues to weigh heavily on my heart. In this case, the judge ruled the two children for whom I was advocating should be adopted by their biological grandmother while their mother served jail time. On the surface, placing children with a biological family member should have been considered a positive outcome, and in many cases, it would have been. Maintaining family connection can provide a sense of identity and continuity for children.

However, in this particular situation, there were significant concerns. The grandmother had several challenges of her own, including medical issues, limited transportation, the responsibility of caring for her non-verbal special needs adult child, and financial instability. On top of that, she was attempting to care for these two very active high needs children who had experienced significant trauma.

One of these kids exhibited extremely defiant and aggressive behaviors, struggled with school attendance, and was eventually expelled from school. It became increasingly clear the grandmother, despite her love for her grandchildren, was not equipped to manage their needs long-term. Even though she did not admit this openly, the situation was overwhelming to her.  

As their CASA, I made these concerns clear in my reports to the court. I advocated for what I believed would provide the most stability and support for the children. Despite this, the court ultimately decided adoption by their grandmother was the best option for these children. That decision was incredibly difficult for me to accept.

Even though the case is now closed, I think about those two kids often. I wonder how they are doing. I hope they are safe. I hope they are being well cared for, even in difficult circumstances. Most of all, I hope they know deep down they are worthy of love, stability, and care.

One of the hardest parts of closing a case is the lack of continued contact. Unless the children or parents reach out to me, I am not supposed to maintain a relationship with them. After investing so much time, energy, and heart into their lives, that separation can feel abrupt and painful. Not knowing how they are doing is something I continue to wrestle with. I pray for my former CASA kids and their parents regularly. In those moments I have to lean into faith. I have to trust that God sees them, loves them, and is watching over them. I trust He will place other caring, supportive people in their lives—teachers, coaches, family members—who will continue to pour into them, advocate for them, and reach out to necessary people if services are needed.  

Serving as a CASA has allowed me to use my God-given talents, my experience as a sister with two siblings who were adopted through the foster care system, and my passion for those who feel they have no voice to do “something.” It has reminded me of what many children are facing, and it has challenged me to step into uncomfortable spaces. I am learning patience, resilience, and the power of simply showing up.

It’s not always easy. In fact, it’s often emotionally challenging. But it is deeply meaningful work.

Not everyone is called to serve in this exact role. But I still believe that quote I heard years ago is true: we are all called to do something. Whether that looks like fostering, mentoring, volunteering, supporting families in need, or simply being a consistent, caring presence in a child’s life—there is always a way to make a difference. For me, that something is being a CASA, and—despite the challenges—I wouldn’t trade it for anything.


Learn more about True Vine, Pathway's Adoption and Foster Care Ministry, HERE.