The Moment That Shook Everything
I remember standing in the kitchen, staring at a sticky note that had fallen from our fridge door. It simply read: “You are more than enough.” I had written it weeks earlier during a sermon about God’s provision, but that day — that exact moment — it felt like a mocking echo. The adoption finalization hearing was in two weeks, and I was unraveling. My thoughts spiraled: What if I mess this up? What if I’m not who he needs? What if love really isn’t enough?
I gripped the counter, praying silently through tears, “Lord, why did You choose me for this?”
And just like that — not audibly, but deep in my soul — I heard the answer: Because you said yes. And I will be enough through you.
Background & Personal Journey: The Unexpected Road to Foster Care
My husband and I never planned to foster. We were the kind of couple who filled their calendars with church ministry, mission trips, and late-night talks about someday starting a nonprofit. Kids weren’t “off the table,” but neither of us had a ticking clock. That changed the day we met my niece’s friend from school — a bright-eyed boy with dimples, who spent more time at our house than anywhere else. He laughed big, but his eyes carried something heavy.
Eventually, we found out he was in foster care, bouncing from home to home. His caseworker casually mentioned he needed a longer-term placement. “Would you ever consider fostering?” she asked, probably half-joking.
We laughed nervously, then exchanged a glance that neither of us could shake. That night, my husband whispered, “I think… we’re supposed to say yes.”
We signed up for classes two weeks later.
Let me be clear: we were terrified. Not of the paperwork or even the stories we’d heard — we were afraid of ourselves. Afraid we weren’t patient enough. Afraid we’d get too attached. Afraid we’d fail.
But something deeper kept rising: a whisper of faith, saying, God doesn’t call the qualified. He qualifies the called.
Key Struggles & Moments of Faith: The Wrestling Ground
The day our first placement arrived — a sibling group of two — we stood by the front door with butterflies, holding our breath. When the van pulled up, my knees literally shook. These children didn’t need perfection. They needed stability, kindness, structure, and love. But inside, I questioned everything. Could we actually do this?
The early days were chaotic — tantrums, court hearings, broken routines, lost sleep, and behaviors that made us feel like strangers in our own home. We prayed in desperation more than anything else. There were nights I cried in the laundry room, asking God why loving these kids felt so hard. But every time, He met us in the mess.
I’ll never forget one night in particular. Our foster daughter, age 8, had just screamed at me that I wasn’t her mom and never would be. I was too exhausted to defend myself. Later that night, I found a drawing slipped under our bedroom door — stick figures holding hands and the words: “Maybe one day.”
I wept.
Love wasn’t always received easily, but it was being planted.
We clung to scriptures like:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9
God wasn’t looking for us to have it all together. He wanted our surrender — our yes — our dependence on Him.
Breakthrough & Transformation: When Heaven Meets the Hard
Six months in, we were burned out. The kids’ biological family visits were inconsistent, the school called constantly, and we were dealing with trauma we hadn’t prepared for. I hit a wall — emotionally and spiritually.
That’s when our church stepped in. A couple who had fostered for years invited us to dinner. They listened — really listened — and then prayed over us like spiritual midwives helping us breathe through the labor of this calling.
One of them said something I’ll never forget: “You’re not raising foster kids. You’re loving God’s kids. He sees it. He honors it. You’re part of their healing.”
It shifted something in me.
I stopped trying to fix everything and started to love through everything.
And slowly, miraculously, change came.
The tantrums decreased. Trust was built. Laughter filled our home more often. The word “mom” slipped out casually one day — and my heart nearly burst.
Our foster son, who had been mostly nonverbal from trauma, started singing worship songs in the backseat of the car. I’ll never forget hearing him hum “Good Good Father” and then say, “That’s what you are.”
That’s when I realized: God is not just healing them — He’s healing us too.
A year later, we adopted one of our placements. The others were reunified — a bittersweet but beautiful moment, as we continued to support their birth family. We weren’t just building a family — we were expanding God’s kingdom of love and restoration.
For the One Who Feels Inadequate
If you’re reading this and wondering if you’re enough — hear me: You are. Not because you have all the answers, or the perfect patience, or a trauma-informed degree. You are enough because God is enough, and He is the One who called you.
Foster care will stretch you. It will test your marriage, shake your identity, and expose your fears. But it will also make you brave, compassionate, and spiritually awake like never before.
You will see miracles in the mundane.
You will experience love in its rawest form.
You will learn that family is not always about DNA — it’s about covenant.
If I could tell my past self one thing, it would be this:
“God never asked you to be perfect. He asked you to show up. And He’ll take your yes and multiply it into something beautiful.”
“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us…” – Ephesians 3:20 (NIV)
You may not feel ready. You may doubt your worth. But when God calls, and you say yes — everything can change.
Even you.
And that’s how we became a family.