Dr. Paul E. Danielson A native of Duluth, Minnesota Paul was raised in an abusive foster home, declared mentally retarded and given little chance for success. He is a graduate of the Criswell College in Dallas, Texas where he earned a B.A. in Biblical Studies and a Masters in Pastoral Theology. He also holds a Doctor of Ministry Degree from the Tyndale Theological Seminary. He has done advanced studies at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary as well. Paul was inducted into the Phi Eta Sigma National Honor Society in 1982 and Outstanding Young Men of America in 1992. Paul has over twenty years of ministry experience, serving as a counselor to at risk kids, youth pastor, professor, senior pastor of five congregations and a Christian leader and speaker. Paul has been married since 1989 and has two sons.

Paul's story. Is it yours, too?

 On December 13th 1961, Teresa McNally raced into St. Luke’s Hospital more than ready to give birth to, yeah, you guessed it, me.  Most mothers would be ecstatic, but not her.  She was not married and my arrival on the scene was more than she could stomach.    
            Her parents wanted nothing to do with her and as recently as 1990 were completely unaware of where she was.  In attempting to locate my biological mother, I discovered that she travels under assumed names and never stays in any one place too long.  Maybe someday I will track her down.    A state agency contacted her parents to see if they would be willing to talk with me, but they opted out.  I am convinced that if they could meet me in person, they might actually like me.  Perhaps someday they will agree to meet. 
            I hope she is still alive.   If we ever get the chance to meet, I am going to tell her about Jesus Christ.  I want her to know Him in the same way I do.    
            Everybody likes to hear a story with a successful conclusion.  Modern media has us duped into believing that everything comes out o.k. in the end.  Not all stories have a happy ending.  I’m just grateful that mine does.     
            The cold indifference of a state bureaucracy replaced the loving caresses of a nurturing mother.  The prevailing philosophy then and now is that foster care is a healthy alternative when no other options are available.  It wasn’t in my case.  The system failed.  After eighteen months because of neglect, I was removed from the first foster home.  The bureaucracy tried to do what was in my best interest and placed me in another foster home.  What a mistake!  It appeared to be a wonderful place for children.   Behind closed doors, the reality was quite different.  My new foster family had two biological children of their own, and occasionally another foster child or two.   For most of my stay, I was the only foster child in their care.
            To say that the biological children were spoiled is an understatement.  Whatever they wanted:  money, cars, they got it most of the time without question even though they wasted the money and wrecked the cars.  They were rude, disrespectful and resented having me in the house.  I was not their “real brother,” a fact that they were all too eager to exploit.
            For example, one afternoon they were outside tossing a ball.  Being my usual, rambunctious and hyperactive self, I rushed outside asking, “Can I play”?  Their response was “Get out of here!  You’re not our real brother.”  I walked off feeling very dejected.    
            I was rejected by the siblings, the foster parents and by one set of the grandparents.  My foster father’s parents resented the fact that they took in foster children.  That became all too obvious at Christmas.   Every year the story was always the same.  I received a token gift while the “real” grandchildren were lavished with toys, clothes and money.  They never asked me what I wanted.  It’s not that big a deal now, but to a little kid it seemed...more

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