Called to Adopt
“An Extra Baby”: Why Foster Care and Adoption Matter More Than We Think
Aloha, friends. I’ll never forget the first time I met Joel and Ashley Wingo. They had two adorable daughters in tow and, as Ashley joked, “an extra baby.” Every time I saw them, there was another tiny one tucked in someone’s arms. What looked quirky at first glance was actually a living picture of God’s heart: placing the lonely in families. “God settles the solitary in a home” (Psalm 68:6, ESV).
Joel and Ashley have been married 22 years and are parents to seven children, from 20 down to two. All seven are adopted. Their journey started with a private infant adoption that cost about $25,000. They were young and, in their words, “basically poor.” But they sensed God’s call, did the paperwork, took extra jobs, sold books, applied for grants, and watched the Lord provide each step. That early “yes” opened the door to a decade of foster placements, surprises, heartbreaks, and miracles. Along the way, they discovered what many of us suspect: the path can be complicated, but the destination is holy ground.
Facing the Fear (and the Paperwork)
If the thought of foster care makes your stomach flip, it's the same for me. The background checks, the home visits, the binders (Ashley laughed about her daughter “playing adoption” with a stack of pretend forms)—it’s a lot. And yet, we tackle big processes for lesser loves every day: mortgages, degrees, start-ups. Why not for a child? As Ashley said, if we’re willing to grind for a dream car or a business plan, how much more for the priceless gift of a human life?
Yes, the system can feel intimidating. But the Wingos found that beyond the acronyms and appointments are real people, many within Child Protective Services who deeply care about kids. Fear shrinks when faces replace stereotypes.
The Realities Kids Bring (and the Hope Love Brings)
Every child’s story is unique. Some little ones fold in immediately and call you “Mom” by dinner. Others come from chaos, where broccoli is scarier than bedtime because green food and regular meals are brand new. Trauma looks ordinary from the outside; inside, it’s a swirl of fight, flight, and flood. Stability can feel foreign before it feels safe.
Joel and Ashley have lived the full spectrum—from newborn twins placed with them during COVID (later adopted!) to short-term placements that left a permanent mark on their hearts. Goodbye never got easier. But grief, they reminded me, is the receipt for love. And God meets us there, too.
Why Christians Should Care
Scripture will not let the church outsource this calling. “Religion that is pure and undefiled… is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world” (James 1:27, ESV). Adoption is not a side metaphor in the Bible—it’s the gospel’s beating heart: “In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 1:5, ESV). We love because we were loved. We make room because God made room for us.
And this isn’t only about “over there.” It’s mission work that starts on your street. There are children in your zip code who need a safe bed, consistent meals, a steady voice saying, “You’re wanted. You belong.”
What About the Hard Questions?
Money: Foster care provides monthly reimbursements that help with a child’s needs (amounts vary by state and rarely cover everything). Private adoption can be expensive, but grants, fundraising, and community support can bridge the gap. The Wingos saw God provide “exactly the amount we needed—again and again.”
Ethics and reunification: Christians are pro-restoration and pro-permanency. Reunification with birth parents is beautiful when it is safe and wise. When it isn’t, adoption is a mercy that restores a child’s dignity and gives them a future and a family name. The point isn’t adult “rights”—it’s a child’s God-given needs.
Pro-life beyond birth: Many crisis pregnancies sit atop layers of pain—poverty, abuse, addiction. Ending a life doesn’t heal those wounds; it just adds another. The Wingos have seen birth families courageously choose life and, at times, open adoption—hard choices that still honor the image of God in both child and parent.
How You Can Start
Not everyone is called to foster or adopt—but everyone can participate.
Pray specifically. Ask God to place the lonely in families—maybe yours.
Support a family. Bring meals, babysit, help with rides, or donate gift cards.
Serve locally. Volunteer with a reputable pregnancy center or foster care support ministry.
Give wisely. Fund grants that remove financial barriers for ethical adoptions and trauma-informed care.
Consider a next step. Attend an orientation. Get fingerprints done. Ask a foster family what would bless them this month.
When I picture Joel and Ashley’s older girls snuggling those tiny twins at one of our retreats, I see a household formed by yeses—costly, ordinary yeses that look like paperwork and bedtime and green vegetables and tears…and the joy of permanency. It’s not glamorous, but it is glorious. Jesus loves to hide miracles in the mundane.
If God could weave us into His family at the cost of His own Son, surely He can empower our small sacrifices for the sake of a child. The invitation is not to heroism but to faithfulness. One open door. One extra place at the table. One “extra baby” who becomes your beloved.
Two Big Takeaways
Foster and adoptive care is everyday discipleship. It’s messy, holy work that mirrors the gospel—costly love making room for the vulnerable (James 1:27; Ephesians 1:5, ESV).
Everyone can do something. Whether you foster, adopt, fund, babysit, or pray—you help place the lonely in families (Psalm 68:6, ESV). Your faithful yes matters.
