Why Support Makes All the Difference: Volunteering to Fostering.

To become a foster parent is to run a marathon.

It’s a muggy, wet morning downtown on the morning of the race, and you walk up to the starting line, just to investigate. You’ve long thought about running a marathon. After all, running is a great way to get in shape and accomplish a meaningful goal. There are numerous health benefits, and there’s no better confidence boost than doing something big. Furthermore, this is a run for charity. Several sponsors have committed to donate $1,000 to vulnerable kids nearby.

So that’s why you find yourself now walking up to the starting line; you are intrigued, poised to step into this challenge. But as you walk up to the starting point, your heart begins to sink.

No one is there. Less than an hour before the race is set to begin, you had hoped to join the other runners in stretching, warming up, blasting hype music, and building comradery with your fellow marathoners.

Maybe, surely you’ve just come to the wrong place or mistaken the start time. Just then, however, something catches your eye. You see a soggy flier stapled crookedly to a streetside telephone pole, flapping there in the breeze. As you step towards it you read the sloppily Sharpied writing, “Marathon starts here: 8am.” Dumbfounded, you start to walk the course, which you now notice is marked by dirty orange traffic cones every half mile, although many of them have toppled over. Peering further down the marathon route, you scan for race spectators in their neon t-shirts with their air horns primed to cheer on the runners. Maybe from here you could faintly make out the support tables stacked with cold water bottles and ready with first aid kits to bandage scraped knees or wrap twisted ankles. But as far as your eyes can strain to see, there is nothing, just the hot wet pavement of the rainy city streets. 

The clock ticks closer to 8, but very little changes. A few more runners have shown up; they’re a special breed. With long, toned legs, wireless earbuds in, and tattoos of sneakers and finish lines on their shoulders, they are stretching together. You approach hesitantly but soon break eye contact and decide to keep to yourself. It’s not that this group of runners is mean or hostile, but you can tell that they are battle-hardened, experienced racers. There still are not any other first timers around. Maybe there’s a reason for that. How could a new runner expect to navigate this poorly mapped course, let alone have enough stamina and determination to run all 26.2 miles alone? There are no water stations along the way, and if the starting line was this haphazard, what would the finish line look like? Was there one? 

It’s 7:55 now. The veteran runners gather on the starting line, their eyes set in icy determination and muscles twitching in anticipation. Without thinking you feel your feet start to carry you away from them. You stick your hands in your pockets and start walking home with downcast eyes. Your heart aches with disappointment for yourself and for those kids that would’ve been helped if you had run the race. But as you keep walking, you comfort yourself with the thought that you never could have finished that race. How could you have? There was no one there to help you, support you, or cheer you on. Alone and without anyone along the way to even give you water, failure was a near certainty. This was not your fault.

It wasn’t the Loseys’ fault either. Having previously adopted and having a son that lives with constant health challenges, Rick and Stephanie knew what it was to be lonely and lacking support. So while they had long considered fostering, they were unwilling to jeopardize their family by entering into a fostering journey that would surely plunge them into deeper loneliness.

They had done enough research to know that fostering is hard. Families brave enough to enter in quickly become isolated. Their time and energy are consumed and their friends don’t understand why they lack the capacity to invest in their community and relationships.

Friendships are fractured and foster families become profoundly alone at the time when they most need support from their communities. It’s no wonder that half of new foster families quit after their very first placement. Rick and Stephanie weren’t willing to put their family through that. 

The Loseys moved from their home in Georgia to Orlando because of Genesis Church. They had started watching their services online during the pandemic, and they developed a strong sense of calling towards the church. When things began to open back up, they took a leap of faith and moved. 

What they found when they arrived and started attending Genesis was a church body that was intent on serving and loving their community with Christlike compassion. A central focus of their congregation was that of the foster care system. Soon after moving, the Loseys joined a care community at Genesis Church. They took on the responsibilities of delivering meals once a month to the foster family they were supporting, and they joined a group message in which they heard updates from the family and volunteered to pray for them. 

Rather than the family being on the hard journey of fostering and the care community providing support, it became a team effort. They were all on the journey together. It had become evident to the Loseys that here they would not be alone on their own foster care journey.

Not much more than a month ago, the Loseys took their first foster placement. Their journey so far has been challenging, as foster care always is, but it has been marked by faithful support. Their journey so far has been challenging, as foster care always is, but it has been marked by faithful support.

Rick and Stephanie emphasized the reality that their care community has made all the difference for them. With their front door becoming a revolving door of care community members delivering meals and supplies, stopping in to check on them, and coming over to watch the kids, it was like they “didn’t have the opportunity to be lonely.” The Loseys have been surrounded with love and support from their care community, so much so that they explained they would not succeed without them.

In our American society where independence and self-sufficiency are so highly valued, it’s hard to ask for help. Rick and Stephanie are far from immune to this pressure to go it alone. Stephanie pointed out that she hates asking for help and rarely ever does; Rick admitted that although he has gotten better at accepting help, he often winds up seeking to repay it or return the favor. 

It’s not difficult to see that the ability to accept help is a necessity for foster parents if they are to succeed. The Loseys' defenses were lowered when they served on a care community previously; they knew how it felt to be so willing to help.

They understood that their care community members saw fostering as a team effort and were eager to play small roles in caring for vulnerable children. But even still, receiving help didn’t come naturally or easily to Rick and Stephanie, so their care community adapted. They decided to skip the asking part.

Early on, they began to show up at the Loseys’ home unannounced, bearing boxes of supplies and carrying words of love and encouragement. Finding creative, successful ways to meet the family’s needs, their care community has enabled the Losey’s to succeed as amazing foster parents. 

They are still on the first leg of their marathon, but the Loseys are running strong. With their care community lining the streets, cheering loudly, and ready with water and Gatorade, Rick and Stephanie are showing no signs of slowing down. 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. – Romans 12:1-2