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WHEN THERE ISCRISIS

AHandbookforChristianFoster�

AdoptiveFamiliesFacingSeriousStruggle

When There is Crisis

For more information, please visit cafo.org/family-institute/

Scripture quotations are from the following translations: The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Design by Charity Betts

Editing by Jenny Riddle

AMID CRISIS

YOU DON’T HAVE TO FACE THIS ALONE

Like all families, foster and adoptive families need the good things that only come through long-lasting, healthy relationships. Enduring, supportive relationships are among the most essential factors in helping parents persevere.15

Give weight to the role grandparents and extended family can play when a child struggles. Even when they don’t fully understand the challenges or always respond ideally, their willingness to stay involved when things are hard can make them a vital part of your family’s ongoing support system. While extended family relationships can sometimes be difficult or complex, they often still contribute to stability and offer a broader vantage point grounded in shared values, family stories, and a longer view.

Grandparents, in particular, can help anchor a child in family identity and faith, offering wisdom, patience, and perspective that parents in the thick of daily stress may struggle to hold.

In a season of crisis, staying connected in Christian fellowship may feel nearly impossible. But participation in the life of the church—worship, prayer, and fellowship—can provide a lifeline, even when it feels like one more thing on the schedule. Research consistently shows that remaining active in a church community strengthens well-being for parents and children alike.16 It’s one of the most critical choices you can make, both in moments of peace and especially when things feel like they’re falling apart.

Consider sharing your needs with a pastor, a lay leader, or someone involved in your church’s care ministry or ministry to families. Let them know of your desire to remain part of the church fellowship. Be willing to name the specific things that feel like barriers to participating, whether it’s the difficulty of getting out of the house, your child’s behavior in church, their unwillingness to come, or your own sheer exhaustion or discouragement. If you know how they could help you practically—arranging for meals, support with errands, babysitting help, or meeting specific financial needs—communicate those things. Your child may be open to a mentor in the church, and you can ask for this kind of support. You might also ask for a confidential prayer team to walk with you in prayer. Being vulnerable about the challenges you are facing enables church leadership to understand your needs, to pray alongside you, and to offer meaningful, practical support.

Be willing to keep communicating as circumstances change. Share updated needs along the way and ask if someone could check in with your family regularly for prayer and encouragement. Some churches have ministries specifically devoted to supporting foster and adoptive families, which can be of great value. If that isn’t available, many churches have care teams or ministries ready to walk with you in prayer and support.

Other foster and adoptive families facing struggle—or families whose biological children have rebelled or struggled with mental health—in your church or community can also be a source of special friendship and understanding. Even a small circle of support can make a meaningful difference in how you endure and grow through this season.

This kind of connection may feel secondary compared to the crisis at hand. It isn’t. Even when it’s hard or you feel misunderstood, continuing to attend church regularly can make all the difference. It helps break isolation, eases discouragement, and opens the door to friendship, support, and perspective.

Regular participation in church can also provide your child with the faithful presence and friendship of other Christians of all ages. Most importantly, the church is a place where the presence of God is expected and welcomed. Even when your circumstances are heavy, gathering with others can help lift your eyes beyond the immediate struggle, reminding you of the companionship of God, even in the darkest of times, and the hope of good still to come.

“For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”

JESUS, MATTHEW 18:20

You likely feel like no one really understands what you’re facing. The circumstances of a home in distress can leave you feeling as though your life is utterly different from others, that no one could possibly grasp the pain and pressure you’re under. That sense of difference can quietly become a wall between you and the people around you.

The longing to be understood is deeply human. It can draw us toward others and toward God. But sometimes, that longing begins to narrow our circle—pulling us only toward people who share similar struggles. And though being known by those who “get it” is valuable, staying only in those spaces can cause you to miss the broader gifts of community: family and friends whose lives may look different yet bring love, care, and wisdom.

When parents focus primarily on how utterly unique their experience is, the sense of isolation is often amplified and can make hard things even harder. Whether online or in person, narrowing your connections may feel comforting at first, but over time, it can lead to discouragement and distance from relationships that might offer strength, perspective, and joy.

Yes, the challenges in your home are unique. You are facing struggles that are more complex, layered, and intense than most—whether rooted in serious past adversity; hurts and losses; major gaps in close, nurturing connection; mental ill-health; or considerable medical or developmental needs. These realities matter. They shape daily life and call for unique wisdom, support, and perseverance.

But they do not erase what is most true: at the core, your family is more like other families than different. You still need love, structure, laughter, patience, repentance, and forgiveness. And your child—no matter how tangled their story—is still a human being made in God’s image with the same deep need for belonging, stability, and the daily receiving and giving of love that every child carries. The distinctions may be significant, but their humanity is greater still.

Sometimes it takes great patience to remain in a church or community that doesn’t fully grasp your experience. You may feel that important needs aren’t being met or that others are downright callous. In some ways, that may be true. And yes, it’s wise to also seek support from others who do understand. But don’t let go of the relationships that have staying power—the ones rooted in church, in family, and in long-standing friendship. Over time, these become some of the strongest and most faithful supports in your life.

CREATING SPACE: THE VALUE OF TIME APART

Painful relationships often define life in a family during a crisis. When a child isn’t thriving and the relationships feel fractured, we long for healing and restoration—and being able to enjoy each other again. But in the moment, that reality can feel impossibly far off.

“For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock.”

DAVID, PSALM 27:5

Right now, you may be exhausted. Being with your child may often feel hurtful, stressful, or plain hard. Of course, you want healing, but sometimes, what you need first is just a break. With intention, this can be an essential part of loving well over the long haul. In fact, regular time apart is often a vital component of lasting healing for your child, your family, and for you.

We all need time together and time apart. But when family life has grown chaotic, those rhythms tend to disappear. So it can be helpful to start by simply building in intentional, predictable times apart. This gives space to breathe, to have brief times of renewal, and eventually to think about how we might reintroduce meaningful time together.

This doesn’t mean storming off to separate corners when things get hard—though stepping away in a heated moment may be the wisest thing. Instead, space apart could look like regular, scheduled times for each person to spend time alone. These might be short daily breaks or longer stretches each week or month.

In addition to enabling parents to address the practical needs of the home, scheduling regular times apart ideally allows for rest or doing something meaningful, such as reading a book, going for a walk, playing an instrument, or journaling.

Time apart is as important for our kids as it is for us, including the child who is struggling. Learning to enjoy simple, independent activities is a healthy and necessary skill, even if it takes time to develop. Such activities could include listening to an audiobook

or playing quietly if they are younger or, perhaps, reading or sketching if they’re older. Ideally, this time should not include screens but be a time for creative or restful activities.

As parents, we also need time to enjoy each other—to rest, converse, or do something fun. To make this possible, we may need to coordinate with a friend, an older child, or even outside help. Arranging details may feel like one more impossible thing, but time apart can make a substantial difference. These small, consistent breaks often make the difference between surviving and beginning to recover.

Siblings benefit, too. Time apart can renew their energy and keep them engaged in their relationship with their struggling brother or sister.

Though there may be intense disruption in the home, the rest of the family still needs to regularly experience the comfort of family life. This goal may require temporary care or different arrangements for the troubled child: school, activities, visits with friends or family, respite care, or time with a trusted babysitter.

During these designated break times, making space to simply enjoy one another can bring much-needed encouragement and strength. These times also help everyone remember what they’re aiming for. Too often, ongoing conflict begins to erode the entire atmosphere of the home. But when you protect small moments of love and respect—a shared meal, laughter, peaceful conversation—it reminds of the joy and warmth found in being a family, even in hard times.

It’s vital to clearly communicate to your child that there’s always a standing invitation—and a deep longing—for them to be part of these family experiences. But it also needs to be understood that participation requires a willingness to engage respectfully. Of course, this takes wisdom and discernment. But when love and the desire to be together are consistently upheld as the heart of the home, this temporary space apart can actually help draw your child back in toward a healthier place in the family and toward something they’re invited to tend and nurture, too.

Finding a caregiver for a struggling child can be especially challenging when your child’s needs are complex or their emotions unpredictable, but it’s worth pursuing if possible. Clear communication with caregivers helps make these times apart go more smoothly. Share basic safety concerns and current expectations for your child’s behavior—ideally in writing so nothing gets missed. It also helps to express that you value continued growth for your child in how they give and receive respect. Let caregivers know you expect your son or daughter to show respect toward those caring for them, including responding to guidance. You can also request that any conversations caregivers have with your child about your family be guided toward respect and graciousness.

We may fear that taking breaks will damage our child’s sense of attachment. But often, the opposite is true. Healthy relationships grow through natural rhythms: presence and space, tension and repair. Often, it’s through coming back together after time apart, especially when there’s been some refreshment of the soul, that

new relational dynamics take root: stronger closeness, renewed loyalty, and more affection for one another.

Too much worry about attachment can actually work against our best efforts to nurture it. Time apart—followed by intentional re-connection—is often what makes space for new growth.

There’s another benefit, too: A break gives us perspective. Sometimes, seeing others connect well with our child can remind us of things we’d forgotten—aspects of who they are that we’ve loved but haven’t seen in a long time. A new vantage point may even help us see our child with fresh eyes and remember how precious they are.

Establishing simple family habits that include intentional times apart might help avoid deeper, longer-term disconnection. Yes, it will require effort. But over time, the fruit it bears—for our own hearts, our children’s healing, and our family’s restoration—can be more than worth it.

LOOKING AGAIN:

NOTICING THE GOOD

It’s important to notice what’s working well and to amplify those things.

Even in homes filled with crisis, your child is likely still receiving countless positive things each day. But when nearly every interaction feels hard, it’s easy to forget that truth, leaving you discouraged and seeing only the negative.

Pausing to pay attention to the good being poured into your child’s life by you and others, even if your child seems unresponsive, can offer real encouragement. There’s a steady stream of genuine good in their life: safety, consistent food and shelter, a family committed to them (even in imperfection), and day-today chances to learn, grow, and enjoy life. These provisions may not seem to bear fruit right now, but they are a profound gift— expressions of love that every human needs. Similarly, even when your child’s behavior is highly troubling, you can still choose to notice glimmers of the essential and precious person who may feel buried beneath so much harmful behavior. Choosing to look for and focus attention on even the smallest seedlings of admirable qualities has the power to unlock muchneeded shifts in feelings and relational dynamics.17

Sometimes, that choice starts with recognizing your own shortcomings that may be sources of difficulty or strain for others. Our failings can be a helpful reminder of our shared need for mercy and forbearance from one another. In our human struggles, we have much in common with our children. We can choose to look again, with eyes of tenderness, on our child’s unhappiness, especially when facing the consequences of their own choices. By intentionally focusing our attention this way, we open ourselves to seeing the child with fresh eyes—eyes that spot endearing, worthy, or even latent qualities that have yet to emerge.

“We attempt to define a person, the most commonplace person we know, but he will not submit to bounds; some unexpected beauty of nature breaks out; we find he is not what we thought.”

CHARLOTTE MASON, BRITISH EDUCATOR AND

EDUCATIONAL REFORMER

What we pay attention to grows. It becomes more striking over time. We can’t just force warm feelings to appear, but we can shift our focus. When we intentionally direct our attention toward what’s good—visible, or still developing—our perspective begins to shift. This doesn’t only change how we think; it often brings about sweeter and more energized engagement. Even small shifts in what we choose to spotlight can stir fresh feelings and actions of love, ones that may never have emerged before or have long lain dormant.

As you keep watch for even the smallest signs of good fruit, you’ll become more able to name them—whether it’s a small sign of maturity, a kind action, or an effort to rightly direct behavior. If you are willing, let your child know you see these things. Your words matter. It may feel very difficult to do at first, but a smile of true approval or a hug that conveys warmth communicates there is dearness to be seen—and that you see it. Amid so many strained moments, there is great power for good in sincerely naming and affirming positive choice. When your child knows you recognize concrete expressions of good in them, it provides an unmatched avenue toward further growth.

Part of learning to see good fruit is letting go of the need to control outcomes. That may sound counterintuitive—aren’t we looking for outcomes? But this kind of fruit-spotting is about noticing what’s right here right now. What can be seen and named today? Trying to control long-term outcomes, the ones that haven’t yet come to be, often only leads to fear or dread.

Yes, parents have real influence. But in the end, we can’t ensure any particular result. This is far beyond the scope of our power. What we can do is remain faithful and loving in our daily efforts, trusting that these seeds have the best chance of bearing fruit over time. This calls for a lens that’s focused on today with an eye for God’s action in our child’s life. While anticipating and looking for good growth, we can release all outcomes to God, entrusting what’s to come to the Good Shepherd. This posture helps us hold onto hope: that good may still come, even if we can’t see it yet.

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

—JESUS, MATTHEW 6:34

Every Sunday was a battle. Kyle’s defiance targeted their faith—he spat harsh words about God, Christians, and church, refusing to go.

At first, Sandra and John left him home alone while they went, but he just played video games all morning. They couldn’t trust him with devices unsupervised, and increasingly, it felt unwise to leave him at home alone at all.

So they took turns—one stayed with Kyle while the other went to church. It worked briefly. Kyle was glad not to go, and Sandra and John held it together.

But exhaustion crept in. The strain wore on them as a couple. One Sunday, Sandra confided in a woman from the care team—sharing their struggle, fear, and hope for change. This woman offered to share their needs with the care team, pray with them, and brainstorm ways to help.

She mentioned the possibility of connecting Kyle with a mentor—a friend from the church who could meet with him occasionally. Maybe, through a growing friendship, Kyle’s interest in church and community could begin to grow, too.

“One of our children dropped out of high school just two months before graduation. The sense of failure and loneliness we felt, while other parents joyfully celebrated, was deeply depressing and isolating. In our shame and regret—over what we could have done or thought we should have done—we withdrew and told very few people, which only intensified our loneliness.”

—ADOPTIVE PARENT

“In the midst of our deepest struggle, I knew we would not make it alone in this turmoil. My husband and I formed a small group with three other adoptive couples, and we met for a shared dinner once a month. This fellowship and support was invaluable and carried us through some of the darkest seasons. Having others who are also on the same journey and can meet you without judgment was a life saver for us.”

—ADOPTIVE MOTHER

“One day, in the midst of all our suffering and hard years, my husband said, ‘I think what’s happening is this: our family is like a small solar system. All our kids are small planets revolving around us as their parents, leaders, and shepherds. But it seems that system has changed, and now we’re all revolving around Pluto.’ He was right."

—ADOPTIVE MOTHER REFLECTING ON A CHILD WHOSE STRUGGLES SEEMED TO DEMAND CONSTANT ATTENTION

“After years of living with drama and tension, I became emotionally depleted. My feelings were damaged, suppressed, and numb. I didn’t even realize how much I had changed.”

—ADOPTIVE MOTHER

“I found myself caught up in the never-ending struggles of each day. At night, sharing the problems with my husband... waking feeling weighed down by my child’s challenges. One day, I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought something positive about my child. That made me feel so sad—for both of us. I resolved to pray each morning, intentionally focusing on thoughts of love and hope for my child. This became an anchor for me during that difficult season. Over time, drawing on those thoughts became easier; it definitely made a difference as I went about the day.”

—ADOPTIVE MOTHER OF A TEEN

“One of the hardest traps I’ve fallen into as an adoptive parent is fear of the unknown—fear of what I don’t know about my child’s past, of what I didn’t invest in the past, and of the future that’s coming all too quickly. With my older child, it feels like the clock is ticking down double time, and I’m running out of the one thing I can’t get more of— time—while progress feels slow or nonexistent.”

—ADOPTIVE FATHER OF A TEEN

When There is Crisis - Chapter 4

Chapter Four Only