Reflections from the Year

As the year comes to a close, I’ve been reflecting on what this season has meant for Tamarisk. This year marked our first year of real operations, and in many ways, it still feels like we are just beginning. What’s clear to me is that everything that’s happened this year has been shaped by a lot of people.

Just last week, we gathered for our end-of-year banquet. We heard stories that were honest and vulnerable. Stories that carried both pain and a lot of hope. I left feeling deeply thankful, not only for what God is doing through Tamarisk, but for the community that has made it possible for these stories to be shared at all.

I keep thinking about a few moments from the evening. Keith spoke about the many challenges young adults with lived foster care experience face, including housing, transportation, education, employment, and the lasting impact of trauma. All of those are real and heavy. But he named something deeper, something that often sits underneath all of it: relational poverty.

It is hard to move forward in life without people rooting for you. It is hard to hold onto a job or pursue education if there is no one to call at the end of a hard day. So many people grow up with relationships that come and go so quickly they barely have time to form. Keith shared a line written by one young woman that said, “Everyone came and went, but it was so fast, it was a blur.” That sentence captures so much of what many have lived through.

That is the difference Tamarisk is trying to make. We are committed to relationships. To showing up and staying. To walking alongside people instead of rushing past them. It sounds simple, but it is deeply countercultural, and it matters more than we often realize.

Trent also shared about what we mean when we say we are “building a longer table.” For us, that is not just a phrase. It is about creating intentional space for belonging. A place where people are known, where family forms, and where no one has to earn their seat. It means making room for stories we have not always made room for, and being honest enough to sit in conversations that might feel uncomfortable but are necessary.

At its core, building a longer table reflects the heart of Jesus. He was constantly widening the circle, inviting people in that others overlooked. He did not ask people to clean themselves up first. He simply said, come. Tamarisk is trying to live out that same posture, where no one has to fight to belong and everyone has something both to receive and to give.

Mia’s words that night echoed this beautifully. She shared how so many organizations have known her through paperwork, through her past. But at Tamarisk, she is known for who she is now, and for who she is becoming, along with her daughter. She spoke about the difference between being pitied and being believed in. About being supported in a way that feels like family. That kind of care does not happen by accident. It happens because people choose to show up with consistency and humility.

As we close out this first year, I am grateful to everyone who has given financially, volunteered time, shared skills, prayed, encouraged, or simply believed in this work. Because of you, Tamarisk exists, relationships are being formed, and we get to hear stories like the ones shared last week. I believe these stories will move outward, shining beyond that room, carrying light in the same way Christ’s light shines in the world.

We are honored to do this work alongside you and look ahead to the year to come with hope!

View Tamarisk’s 2025 End of Year Report

With gratitude,

Eric Carboni

Operations