A little over a year ago, I shared a story with you titled A Journey of Love about Shiloh and Tess welcoming their first foster placement. That story began with uncertainty, prayer, and a simple “yes.” Today, it continues with something even more powerful—permanency.
From the very beginning, this little boy has thrived in their home. They have been there for the milestones—first words, first steps, new routines—and they have patiently walked with him through some of his earliest developmental and emotional challenges. Growth like that does not happen by accident. It happens when a child feels safe. It happens when a child knows they belong.
But as many of you know, the road to permanency in foster care is rarely simple.
The goal almost always begins with reunification. That is right and good. We want families restored whenever safely possible. Case plans are created. Services are offered. Everyone works toward the hope that a child can return home. Twelve months to permanency can sound achievable on paper, but real life is often far more complicated.
Foster parents step in on day one committed to supporting that goal. They encourage visits. They pray for healing. They advocate for progress. They love a child fully while holding that love with open hands.
But sometimes the goal changes.
In this case, I am aware of the reasons reunification was not able to move forward. Out of respect for the birth family and the dignity they deserve, I won’t share those details. What I can say is that the situation was complex, and the court ultimately determined that reunification was not the best path toward permanency for this child.
In some situations, the court may move toward termination of parental rights when reunification is no longer viable. In other cases, a parent may voluntarily surrender their rights for deeply personal reasons. These decisions are never simple. They often carry grief, loss, and layers of emotion for everyone involved.
What began with the hope of reunification ultimately led to adoption.
And when that door opened, Shiloh and Tess stepped forward—not because they needed a child, but because this child needed a family.
That mindset makes all the difference.
Adoption is healthiest when it is rooted in the understanding that a child needs a stable, committed, forever family. It is not about completing a family; it is about committing to meet the lifelong needs of a child. Adoption does not erase trauma. It does not magically remove the emotional, physical, or developmental impacts of early adversity or epigenetics. What it does provide is something powerful: consistency, security, and belonging.
Adoption offers a child the best opportunity to heal and grow in the context of a family that is committed for life. When a family is focused on meeting the child’s needs—rather than expecting the child to meet theirs—the outcome is healthier for everyone involved.
There is also room here to acknowledge something important: adoption often carries both joy and grief. Joy for the permanency gained. Grief for what was lost. We can celebrate this child’s forever family while still honoring the reality that another chapter closed in order for this one to begin.
This little boy needed a family—just like you and I once needed a family. And just as God, in His kindness, places the lonely in families, He has now provided this child with his forever home.
I want to publicly thank Shiloh and Tess for opening their hearts and their home. Their “yes” has become a forever commitment through adoption, and it has already changed this little boy’s life.
Sometimes adoption is not the first plan.
But sometimes, adoption is the best option.