Saying “No”–A Story

This post is from Moms Take Ten episode 82, Foster Care and Adoption–Saying “No, ” A Story, which you can listen to wherever you listen to podcasts or at https://sites.libsyn.com/403493/foster-care-and-adoption-saying-no-a-story

As I listened to the voicemail, a pit formed in my stomach. Hearing his name brought up all the memories and emotions of five months ago that I had struggled to lay to rest. He was the baby who had entered our home and filled out hearts so swiftly that we could scarcely believe it. He was going to be with us three months, then six months, then years, then only forty minutes more. It felt as though he was wrenched from our arms, just as he had been from his mama’s. My heart grieved for her as it grieved for myself. Yet another example of the brokenness of the foster system.

Now, suddenly, his name was spoken to us again. The foster home he was in was not working out. He was with us before, could he be with us now? It sounds like it should be an easy decision, yes? We had loved him, missed him, grieved him. Surely, we would want to care for him now.

A lot had happened in the five months that he had been gone. Two other placements had started and ended. The summer was in full swing. We had trips planned. We were thinking about the fall and the year to follow. We were thinking about the future of our family.

A shift had begun in our minds and hearts, a gentle guiding away from hosting towards a new era in our family. There were things we wanted to do with the kids in our house that would be difficult to do if we added another. There were ministry opportunities that I wanted to step into that would be impacted if I was caring for a fourth.

The night before a placement ended in July, Jonathan and I agreed. We were closed to any new placements, Safe Families or foster care.

The emotional and mental wrestling that came with that decision is hard to describe.

Nine years ago, we had made the decision to open our home. We went to the trainings, did the home studies, and cleaned and prepared the bedroom. As we readied our lives, we ready our hearts as well. It is like the open sign switched on inside of us and once it is on, it is very difficult to turn off. The decision to close our home felt like a rewiring of who we were and all we had been over those nine years. We had been trained to say yes. Saying no felt unnatural, even selfish.

There is so much out there in the foster world, and in the trainings, about considering placements, asking questions, and making decisions about hosting. All the content is within the context of saying yes. Maybe you will say no to one or two here or there, but ultimately, you will say yes to at least one. There is not much out there, at least from the accounts that I follow, about saying no more. Maybe you take a break, but you come back. You are part of the system now. You have a ministry, a calling. There are so many needs that you can meet. Do not give up. Keep going.

To think only of your family, the people already living in the walls of your house, feels wrong. Privileged was the word that I kept fighting against. You are privileged to be able to say no. Other people don’t have the privilege that you do. They can’t just make the choice to keep their children. They can’t just make the choice to have their lives be how they want them to be. They are struggling and are looking for support. Are you really going to tell them no? Are you really going to turn your back on them? No, you aren’t the savior, but you have a responsibility. You chose this. You said yes. You can’t start saying no now.

I did an episode in the springtime, I think, about the fight against complacency between hostings. That was a real thing that I experienced. This time, it was not about being complacent. It was about being obedient to the Lord’s leading to do something different. It was about entering, embracing, a different way of doing life and finding joy and peace in that. The accusations running through my mind were not of the Lord. But they were loud.

The other reality that we were processing is that the Lord had grown our family through foster care and adoption. We did not step into Safe Families for that but that is how we connected with two of our children’s birth parents. Choosing to close our home meant closing to the possibility of our family growing again. We were so thankful for each child that was in our home and had been in our home. We absolutely love the three that are in our home right now. It is a joy to watch them grow and learn and display more and more of their personality. But we had thought we would have one or two more. God can do that still, yes. This decision to close, though, felt to us like a decision to stay the family that we are today. There was joy in that but also sadness.

We made the decision. We dropped off our two guests with their mama. We prepared for a trip. An hour after we had said goodbye, I received a phone call for a foster placement of a 9-month-old girl. It was actually our first foster placement call aside from our current foster daughter. The majority of our placements have been through Safe Families. “The irony,” I thought, telling the caseworker “no” and continuing to pack. A few days later, as we sunned ourselves in California, a mom reached out to us. We had cared for her son a few times through Safe Families and she was wondering if we could watch him again. This was a harder “no” for me. We love him. We love her. We want to still be a part of his life, but not in that way.

Then, a week or so after we returned, the call came about the baby boy. “What is happening?!” I cried to my husband. “Is this a test? Were we wrong to close? How can we say no to him?!” All the emotion of his leaving rushed back on me. I looked at pictures. I heard his cooing. I thought about what life would be like with him in it. I thought of all that we would experience. And of what we would miss out on. I thought of the good and the hard that would come with him. The opportunities I would need to say no to. The gift of knowing him that I would have. The chance to care for his parents. Pros and cons. Pluses and minuses. Lives impacted by either decision.

We prayed. We sought counsel from friends. We talked and talked and talked.

We said no.

We cried. We mourned. We transitioned to our new season.

I will be honest, as I have been trying to do through this retelling. Tears still fill my eyes when I think of him. I pray for him, and for his foster family, and for his parents. Sometimes I question our decision, but mostly I don’t. Instead, I allow myself to feel the mix of the emotions, the “and” of foster care, of life.

Choosing to foster is an act of trust in God and his leading. Choosing to continue to foster is an act of trust in God and his leading. Choosing to step out of fostering is an act of trust in God and his leading.

For the foster mamas listening, know that there is freedom in choosing what is best for you and your family, even if that means saying no to a placement or several, taking a break, or even closing to new placements. God cares about you also. He loves you. If he is calling you to say yes, he will be with you in it. If he is leading you to say no, he will be with you in it. As a fellow foster mama said to me recently, “Who knew that saying no to placements would be one of the harder and most emotional things we have to do as foster parents.”

For all mamas listening, we all face decisions that feel impossible to make. Where no matter what we choose, our lives, others’ lives, will be impacted. Where, once you decide, even if you know it was “the right” choice, there is still a little sadness mixed with the joy. The act of deciding is an act of trust that our God is good, that he knows the situation, that he is at work, and that he will carry us, and the others involved, through it. He is worthy of that trust.