Foster Care is full of moments of transition! We would love to share some resources to help you navigate this next season as a Foster Parent:
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Transitions in Foster Care

The world of foster care can feel like a turbulent ocean. On our personal journey as foster parents, my husband and I have been led into that stormy place.
Our first placement was a beautiful baby girl. Her nickname in our home was “Sissa”. When we were matched with Sissa, we were told of the high probability that she would return to her birth parents. During the beginning months with her, my heart was so confused. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a hope to be her forever mommy. However, her parents didn’t resemble the false stereotypes that I’d heard about. They showed up for every visit, waited eagerly for her, and did everything that was asked of them. A couple months into us caring for her, her parents had one of their first hearings which would determine whether or not the county was justified in removing their child from their home. The ruling was not in their favor, and they were not granted permission to take her home that day. They did, however, have a visit scheduled for that evening.
That night when I drove to the county building where I would drop off Sissa for her visit, I didn’t have our other three children with me. I was alone. In that moment, I felt a nudge from the Holy Spirit to drop Sissa off in a very different way than I had previously done. Often I would drop her off in a location at the main building that would allow me to stay in the car with the kids, and the visitation social worker would come to get her. Doing it this way meant that there is no interaction with the birth parents. It makes it a lot easier when you have a bunch of little kids in the car. No need to unbuckle, corral, and buckle back into the car. It also doesn’t allow for lengthy conversations with the birth parents, which was a welcomed buffer for my fearful heart.
So when I sensed the Spirit prompting me to walk Sissa in on such a heavy day, you could say I was more than a little nervous. Not only was I motivated to ask them about their court hearing while waiting for the visitation social worker, but I felt the push to pray with them. I asked them if they would be open to me praying with them after they had responded about the day’s events. They were open to it, so we huddled in the lobby of the DFCS (Department of Family and Children’s Services), which just seemed super crazy to me! In our prayer, I asked God that we would be united and on the same team, that we would all give Sissa the best possible life that we could, and above all always keep her best interests in mind.
My hope of being her forever mommy would quickly fade into the distance. Walls came down between us, walls that had once given me a false sense of comfort but had ultimately never seemed to cast out the fear in my heart. The fear that it had to be “biological parents versus foster parents” was removed that day; now, we were united in our love for this precious little one. That day, God asked me to step into the mess and the pain a little further. It was extremely difficult to be obedient, but through that obedience God poured out a healing balm on our hearts that became the bond of love between our two families.
Sissa is now happily reunited with her family. Her time with us and on this fostering journey continues to challenge me and the walls of safety I often choose to hide behind. I sometimes think that those on the other side of our walls may not understand that we are cowering in fear of the unknown. The walls we put up can offend, oppress, and keep us from the very thing we all really desire: love. But there is something very good to be found on the other side of the walls we build up. It is often messy, but with Christ, bridges can be built to connect us and establish a greater empathy in us for one another. Whether you have walls or perhaps unchartered waters in front of you, I encourage you to take a leap forward because there is something so much sweeter than safety to be had on the other side of your fears.
Does anybody else have a hard time accepting help, let alone asking for help? No, just me?! I always knew going into foster care and embracing the model of Foster the City of having support friends was going to be the more challenging aspect. Oh for sure, saying goodbye and walking through that grief were some of the hardest moments of my life, but in the day to day, inviting others in has overwhelmed me.
We just welcomed a new little one into our home, so we’re back in the new placement stage. Baby boy is our third little one in our home, and I don’t know how I would have finished this first month standing without the tangible and emotional support of our community. Coffee, dinners, lunch, breakfast, check in texts, postage stamped cards (I love getting mail that isn’t junk mail!), flowers, baby supplies, gifts for me, gifts for baby, sanity (masked) walks, and arms to cuddle baby (because his favorite place is right in your arms all.day.every.day)!
Just a quick glimpse into our first week: on his day of discharge I fielded 10 calls regarding his case. In the first 2 days home we had two social worker visits, and an extended doctor’s visit – all quickly followed in the next 6 days with a visit, multiple additional calls and emails, a court hearing, and a 90 minute phone meeting.
So those meals delivered meant my brain didn’t have to think of what’s for dinner, nor did we have to clean up from making dinner which, when evenings are hardest for baby, makes life so much easier.
Sanity walks provided me with accountability to actually get out and breathe, and offered adult conversation that wasn’t baby centered.
One friend dropped off fresh baked bread, and it became my daily bread for three days straight. Good bread and good butter will always be a go to comfort food.
Let me tell you something – my deep dark secret (OK, one of many) – this support, it brings me to my knees. Even though I just expounded on how meaningful and impactful this support is, my biggest struggle is in receiving this support. My inclination is to say, “We’re good. We’ve got it. Thanks, though.” On the flip side I love being able to be the giver. I take joy in providing meals, sending cards, and texting. But to receive it… it brings me to my knees; in humility and in praise.
One of the joys for me of working with Foster the City is to be an active speaker for our Interest and Launch Meetings, and the irony is never lost on me as I share about the impact of having support friends on your foster care journey. God and I often discuss the journey we’ve walked together and the absolute sense of irony that exists in so many areas of my life. Here’s the thing – as someone walking the journey of foster care as a foster mama, a support for others, and working behind-the-scenes for an organization championing for these vulnerable children, I can confidently say that tangible emotional and spiritual support really does make a difference. The national statistic says that 60% of foster families don’t continue after their first year or first placement. If it wasn’t for the support we received in our season of saying goodbye and in turn saying hello again, I’m not sure of the depth of my yes. There are many taxing parts of foster care – physical, spiritual, and emotional – and we need a community around us willing and able to show up.
One of our Foster Families recently shared that they prefer referring to their “team” as a “Support Army” because that’s how it has felt.
“We’ve just been overwhelmed by the way they’ve shown up. We could go on and on about the ways (meals, supplies, date nights, child care, prayer). One thing I’ve loved seeing is how they jump into action, they ‘deploy’ the moment we get a placement. When we got our first placement a few years ago; there were diapers at our door, clothes, formula, a stroller and this was all within a few hours. The intensity of that commitment was such a comfort, a simple reminder that ‘ok, they really are in this with you.’
We’ve seen it in the way our team prays, we’ve gone through some pretty harrowing experiences, and just getting that text from our team lead, saying, ‘OK, here’s what we need to be praying about.’ It’s been the reinforcements we need.” – Jeff and Kashelle
You can hear more of their story and the stories of their support friends in their own words HERE.
In addition to the practical support, foster families need to be supported by the practice of prayer. Foster care is a spiritual battle. The thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy but the Son of God brings life, and life in abundance. (John 10:10). The very fact that these children are entering care is a demonstration of that brokenness, and as foster parents entering into that trauma they need the protection of prayer.
By asking and receiving help from our community of support, I’ve experienced a depth of encouragement that has carried me through both the joy and sadness of foster care. I’ve forged deeper friendships, and enjoyed a vast array of meals. Furthermore, the little ones in our home have an army cheering them on in life, covering them in prayer, celebrating their life milestones, and rejoicing together when key moments happen. We’re not meant to do life alone, and I don’t believe we’re meant to foster alone. Not everyone can foster, but we can all do something. Take the help – say yes to that meal drop off, welcome an extra set of arms to cuddle baby, a fresh batch of energy to hang out with that teen; you might be surprised what it adds to your life.
*If you’re a foster parent or a potential foster parent and you don’t have support, especially as a Foster the City family, can I encourage you to ask for that help? It can be humbling, but there can be so much beauty in the ask. I’m linking to our Foster Family Information Form, and if you’ve never completed the form, please do it now. There are 19 different avenues of support you can check, as well as space to write in your own needs.
*If you’ve completed one in the past, and your needs have changed can I encourage you to complete it again.
We had one family recently share how their needs changed during this last year of the pandemic. She shared that being home all day with a preschooler was wearying, and in keeping safety a priority they weren’t using their support friends as babysitters, but the little girl needed a break from home. So, she reached out to one support friend who had guinea pigs. They created a time for the little girl to play on the front lawn surrounded by the guinea pigs, and those playdates made a tangible difference in the life of that family.
Another Foster Parent shared that initially she had thought asking for someone to walk the dog didn’t qualify as a need, and loved the idea of receiving meals. It turns out that the children in her care were incredibly picky eaters and the meals were going to waste, but that the dog was packing on the pounds! Needs arise as life happens, and every family’s needs look different. You never know what little things may add up, but getting support in those areas make a tremendous difference.
Five foster homes inhabited by strangers.
Four languages shouting unintelligible words.
Three siblings separated and estranged.
Two parents ensnared in addiction and abuse.
One baby brother requiring protection.
His shadowed eyes stared warily into mine. Their depths held such sorrow… At 3 1/2 years old, this little man needed more than just a safe home. He needed a safe space to grieve and rage and cry and be loved through each big emotion.
Welcoming children from hard places into our homes and churches means inviting in their sorrow and grief as well. We are choosing to actively enter their pain and loss and anger. Families and churches will experience grief and a deep sense of loss as we walk with children in foster care. True stories of abuse, neglect, cycles of addiction, and broken families will break our hearts. Saying good-bye to children we love will overwhelm us with grief. We will struggle to comfort the children that remain in our homes after hard good-byes. In addition to helping our kids from hard places access professional therapy and counseling services, let’s be ready to comfort them as they grieve. Let’s take time to acknowledge their sadness and anger. Let’s sit with them in their sorrow. Let’s comfort their hurting hearts. Here are some activities to do together with children we love as they process grief. Instead of trying to “fix” things or “make things better,” let’s focus on comforting them and connecting with their hearts.
He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able give them the same comfort God has given us.
2 Corinthians 1:4 (NLT)
As foster parents, you have opened your hearts and home to vulnerable children in need. Often you have welcomed a child into your home who has experienced trauma, abuse, or neglect and you have taken on the large task of teaching them to trust, love, care and become responsible or independent by patterning such behavior for them. Attachment is often inevitable. Placement changes and transitions can be heart wrenching for you, your family, and the child in care. There is no way that separation can be made easy and painless. The following however, are suggestions for making the separation as positive an experience as possible.
Caution: Don’t get alarmed if you’re suddenly feeling the pain of grief again, this doesn’t mean you are regressing, these feelings will come up from time to time when you least expect them.
The Forgotten Initiative: Saying Good Bye: Navigating Reunification as a Foster Parent
Offers thoughtful insights and practical tools to guide children through hard goodbyes with honor and intentionality.
The Forgotten Initiative: Good Grief: Navigating Loss in Foster Care
In foster care, we know we will be met by loss. God does not ask us to see our losses or our child’s losses as good. It’s not about minimizing our loss, and still, our perspective on grief matters.
The Forgotten Initiative: Walking Through Grief with Hope
A child’s foster care journey begins with loss, loss of what they know, who they love, and all that is familiar. Grief follows right behind and exhibits itself in various ways. As a foster parent, you and those close to you are also well-acquainted with loss and grief as the very nature of your role is to love and let go.
A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis
An honest reflection on the fundamental issues of life, death, and faith in the midst of loss.
The Goodbye Book, Todd Parr
Through the lens of a pet fish who has lost his companion, Todd Parr tells a moving and wholly accessible story about saying goodbye. Touching upon the host of emotions children experience, Todd reminds readers that it’s okay not to know all the answers, and that someone will always be there to support them. An invaluable resource for life’s toughest moments.
In My Heart, Jo Witek and Christine Roussey
Happiness, sadness, bravery, anger, shyness . . . our hearts can feel so many feelings! Some make us feel as light as a balloon, others as heavy as an elephant. In My Heart explores a full range of emotions, describing how they feel physically, inside, with language that is lyrical but also direct to empower readers to practice articulating and identifying their own emotions.
If we, as doers of compassion, long to run the race (and not just the quick sprint) we can’t rely on our own strength. WE CAN NOT POWER THROUGH. God didn’t make us that way (proven in our neurological and emotional make-up) nor does he ask us to. Jesus stopped, Jesus had to consider His body, His mind, His Spirit.
It is not easy to work with people who have been exposed to trauma. Many who do can become weary. This weariness has been officially labeled “Compassion Fatigue.” It is also sometimes referred to as secondary traumatic stress (STS).
Compassion fatigue is a condition characterized by emotional and physical exhaustion leading to a diminished ability to empathize or feel compassion for others, often described as the negative cost of caring.
Many professional and volunteer workers are at risk of experiencing compassion fatigue. These include clergy, teachers, social workers, nurses, police officers, child protection workers and many more.
Deana Terrell for Foster the City
“The goal of fostering is reunification whenever safe for the kids.” That is the typical answer when asked “What is the purpose of foster care?” Most people in the foster care space hold this stance, and I do as well. But to grasp a life focused on reunification is weighty in itself. It is an uncomfortable calling that ushers someone into the unstable and unknown, away from comfort and assurance.
Fostering, as I see it, is mainly a form of stewardship. Similar to the way we steward time, treasures, and talents, the children that enter resource family homes have been entrusted to us as parents for a season. A lot of times, the end of that season is unknown at the start, but that should encourage us to greater love in service, knowing the days are limited while not knowing the limit. Every moment is meaningful. Each meal can be a memory. Daily mercies matter more and more. With a perspective of “being parents as long as we are needed,” we can shift our focus from the “as long” part to the “are needed.” Instead of dwelling on a future time when the kids have been reunified, we can love them as much as possible today, for tomorrow will worry about itself.
Admittedly, this is no easy task, especially as time goes on. There is a real possibility for thoughts to creep in that are not inline with stewardship: “What if they stayed with me forever?”, “These kids deserve the life I can give them,” or “I could do such a better job than their actual parents.” While they seem good-natured at first, wanting what we believe is best for the kids, they disregard one of the key elements of the foster system: coming alongside a family in crisis. Foster families have the privilege of being on the frontline for a family impacted by the foster system. With a mix of emotions running through their minds, one of the last thoughts biological parents need in these vulnerable times is to have to worry about a resource family trying to replace them. And likewise, regardless of the circumstances of removal, the children should be reassured that their placement home’s number one priority is for the children’s well-being, not whether they are a possible “forever placement.”
Some might assume if the kids are going to be reunified, then they should not get “too attached” because it will be too painful when they leave. While I do not believe many will argue with the very real grief that comes after kids are reunified, to not love them to one’s fullest extent would be a disservice to everyone involved. Viewing foster care as a time of crisis for a family, how could we withhold attachment to a child that just had their world turned upside down? Are we really going to invite youth into our homes but not into our hearts? We should hold the cross in high regard as a symbol of sacrificial love, laying down the fullness of our lives. We love in preparation for loss, not to avoid it.
If we were to take a step back and think about the notion of limiting attachment because of a lack of permanency, we might find that there are other areas in our life where we would not do the same. Part of that might be due to an assumption of permanency that is not really there, but we just pretend it is. When it comes to fostering, we are given notice up front, tempting us to begin guarding ourselves. But we don’t have assurance that our best friend will be in our life 2 years from now, yet we aren’t preparing for that friendship to fizzle. We rarely have guaranteed employment 18 months from now, but does that mean we should enter our workplaces every day, greeting co-workers with our walls up? We might not like to think about it, but there is no promise of loved ones being present a year from now. And yet we are comfortable investing attachment into all of these areas. Granted, that is what makes the loss of them feel weighty, but I ask again, are not the kids in foster homes worthy to be invested in the same way? Loss is inevitable, so let us love as much as possible until reunification, then bring the loss before the cross.
So we’ve stewarded our time with them well, loving unconditionally along the way, but what happens after they leave? The closet is emptied and the last mess is cleaned up. Despite all of the training for certification, there is nothing that prepares a foster parent for the return to quiet after a placement, no matter how long the duration. The rhythms of making meals and tucking in are no more, even if the desire persists. You take the time you think you need to process, then you take a little more. You continually ask yourself why you do what you do, and hopefully come to the conclusion that you’ll do it again, at least once more.
Not every placement continues with contact. I’ve been truly blessed that I am still in contact with the two girls who entered our home almost a year and a half ago, staying for just 4 months, but I know that is rare. People say fostering shouldn’t be about growing your family. I say yes and no. Yes, they were reunified and no longer live with us, but I do believe our family grew regardless and continues to grow in reunification. It grew when they showed up to our baby shower, their mom included, to celebrate with us. It grew when we were invited to “Special Friends’ Day” at their school. It grew with every overnight and spur of the moment visit, knowing there was a mutual joy with seeing one another again. And in it all, we have loved them, near or far.
For the times in between visits, and the time we wait for the next one, if it comes, we have to continually fight to trust that they are in good hands, neither ours nor their parent’s, but God’s. That is pretty much the only way reunification works. God places the children in our life for us to give everything we have, relying on Him for grace. And we continue to rely on Him once the kids have moved out. When we let go of the need to influence the situation and stop believing they are only safe or happy in our homes, we are freed to trust a King with an ever-watchful eye. If I continually worried about their wellbeing every moment since reunification, I couldn’t bear the weight of helplessness. It is only when walking in the faith of a Savior who was working in their lives long before I showed up, and will continue to do so long after I am around, that I can rejoice in reunification. I don’t do it perfectly, and I can stand to do it more often. For my sake. For the kids I have reunified. And God willing for the next ones I’ll help reunify.
-FTC Foster Parent
The Christian martyr Jim Elliott is quoted as saying, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” This quote is a snapshot of what the journey of being a fost-adopt parent has looked like for me.
Let me be honest, I was clearly closed to foster care. I had my one biological daughter and that was enough for me, the expression of love and DNA passed down. In my mind, there was no way that I could love a child that didn’t come from me biologically. What was the point?
Since my wife (and I deep down) had such a desire to conceive more children we did all the stuff couples do. Testing, talking, paying money, more testing, and paying more money, and all the other stuff that comes from inside the measurable and controlled white walls.
Through our secondary infertility journey, I realized my wife’s deep desire to become a foster-adoptive parent. This was a scary squall to me. It was no longer about me because I was hell bent on staying in my boat no matter what. I love counting the cost. I can do it forever. I think first then leap, but never really leap. Why should I? I can always rationalize away “counting the cost” but it gives birth to what I’m ultimately after, security and control.
I don’t think that Jesus came to offer me a safe and controlled life but I subconsciously swam in this mirage of the Christian-American dream. I concluded that this is my stuff and I am not willing to share.
Truthfully, it came to a point that I knew I would need to lay down my life for my wife or it would always be the elephant in the room. Lose my life to find it. I wanted to save my life to keep it, thank you very much.
My wife asked if we could take some classes about the dire need for “parents to take in children removed from homes.” Why would I want to upset the “shalom of my home” to bring in “little squalls not from me”? Am I crazy?
After attending these classes I became aware that one, this is a crisis and two, there were very few men attending these meetings. This bothered me. It was the women who were stepping up to the challenge and getting out of the boat. It was God who was slowly unclenching my hands gripped on the boat.
After the classes, I took out my anger by punching the center of the steering wheel with such great force that it set off the car horn indefinitely. “Where are the men!” I yelled.
This was God’s way of interrupting my quiet and safe life. The horn was God’s way of symbolically asking me to get out of the boat. Asking me to lose my life so I can find it, and so we did.
Today I have had the privilege to welcome children and a teenager into my home, and I have adopted two of them.
Becoming a foster-adoptive parent was nothing what I expected. I realize that I have love to give. My heart has room, just as God’s heart has room with his many mansions.
The bottom line is that jumping in the pool and getting out of the boat has changed the trajectory of my life!
Saying yes to children who need a loving home is saying yes to God. I have lost my life to find it but the gift is that we were meant for love, created by Love to give love.
Although foster care has been challenging at times, I find that it is rewarding because it has shaped me. I have had to depend on Jesus, keeping my eyes on him amidst the challenges and joys.
Children do not ask to be removed. They have no choice, but I do. To whom much is given, much is required. Being a foster parent is not about me. It is about the children and the Lord who welcomes them in his name because I remember that Jesus is the welcome and the welcomer.
Jim Elliot was right. I am no fool because I keep nothing down here but I gain everything that I can never lose.
Doug