The Roller Coaster of Foster Care

The worker came by to talk to me. He avoided my eyes, looking instead at our baby boy, as he nonchalantly shared that he had to “go check someone out to see if they wanted to adopt him” and he would let me know next week. This was very different from the “there’s absolutely no one, please say you’ll adopt him” narrative we’d been hearing since before he was even placed with us. But there was some last ditch attempt to be able to check the box of “kin” for a non-biologically related stranger, so they were going for it.

I’ve gotten pretty good at the roller coaster of foster care. The strategy: you just choose to get off the roller coaster. You forget about the ups and downs, and you remain with feet planted squarely on the ground. Some would call it denial. But it’s much deeper than that for me. I don’t ignore what’s happening. I remember that God is the One in and above what’s happening. That I have grace to sustain me today, and when tomorrow becomes today, I’ll have grace waiting for me there, too. That truly trusting Him can keep me from the stomach flips of every drop & curve.

I felt millisecond pangs of overlooking the edge of the rollercoaster many times each day. But then I’d remember about the grace, about the God who’s in and above, and I’d find myself back on solid ground.

I willed myself to wait one whole week before I texted the worker and immediately got a call back. “I’m so sorry I forgot to call you. They don’t want to adopt him. There’s no one else. You’ll get an adoption worker next week.” Thank God in heaven above, because this would’ve been a loss unthinkable.

But, to be clear, the lesson here is not: don’t worry, it will all work out in the end. Because, well, it might not. At least in the way you’re hoping.

The key to getting off the roller coaster—to trust—isn’t that you believe in your happily ever after. It’s that you believe—you know—that God’s got you, either way.