Misty and her husband, Jon, arrived at a house near Denver one day several years ago to pick up the two boys who would become their sons. A dirt yard led to a screen door dangling from its hinges. Inside, grime coated the linoleum steps to the living room, where a kind, if overwhelmed, single foster mother introduced Misty and Jon to Shon, 2 Â½ years old, and his 9-month-old brother, Cory. She gave the couple a tiny suitcase with a broken zipper, a few borrowed clothes â some too big, others too small â and a piece of advice: Donât touch Shonâs head or lift your hands near him. He will cower. Then she handed Jon a huge bag of frozen fish sticks. The kids love them, she said.  Cory, Misty and Shon just before bedtime.  Misty, who asked me to use only first names for her family to protect the childrenâs privacy, latched onto the idea of adopting from foster care after hearing an ad on K-LOVE, a Christian radio station, about a new organization, Project 1.27, that was helping Christians adopt foster kids. (Project 1.27 is named for the biblical verse James 1.27, which calls for Christians to âcare for the orphans and widows in their distress.â) âHas God been calling you to adopt?â the voice-over asked. She and Jon had talked about the possibility of adopting, but international adoption, which can cost $20,000 or more, was too expensive.  Misty told Jon about the radio ad, and the couple talked and prayed about it for more than a year. Jon wanted to adopt one or two children at most, none with physical disabilities. Misty longed for a huge family â six, eight or more â and was open to mild disabilities, possibly more serious ones, depending on the situation. Their four biological children, ranging from 6 to 13 at the time, signed onto the idea, as much as kids that age can. They were excited about having new babies in the house. âIâd seen âAnnie,â â Lauren, the oldest, told me not long ago. âI thought: How hard can it be?â  Misty and Jon knew only a few things about Shon and Coryâs early life. Misty says they were told that the boysâ mother dropped them off with a man who didnât know their ages or names and never returned. In the first weeks after Misty and Jon took the boys home, Shon would slide his plate over to his brother and refuse to eat until Cory did. Some mornings the family awoke to the sound of crashing pots and pans, as Shon tried to prepare breakfast for Cory. Misty once found spilled muffin mix and a spray bottle of bleach in the boysâ bedroom â presumably the ingredients for an aborted meal. At bedtime, Shon lay on his back, his head in his hands, and stared straight ahead until Misty left the bedroom. He awoke each morning in the same position, as if he were on guard all night.  About eight months later, as the adoption procÂ­ess inched forward and the boys began to adjust to their new life, a county caseworker came by. Shon and Coryâs mother had just given birth to twins, a boy and a girl. They were only 24 weeks old â at the edge of life. Each baby weighed a little more than a pound. Given the motherâs history of abandoning her children, Misty says, the county wanted foster parents who could visit and hold the babies in the hospital. Misty and Jon had a couple of days to decide.  Misty, who is 39, wanted to bring home more needy children. She loved taking care of kids and had been running an at-home preschool for Shon and Cory and three other children. But Jon, who is also 39 and a sheriffâs deputy, has a tendency toward more sober realism. He worried about being able to care for kids with disabilities or getting attached to foster children who would eventually leave. Still, the twins were Shon and Coryâs biological siblings. The couple said yes.  The baby boy died just days before Misty and Jonâs first hospital visit. His sister, Olivia, hooked up to a ventilator, had heart problems that might prove fatal. For six months, about every other night, Misty tucked her youngest kids in bed and drove 45 minutes to a Denver hospital to hold Olivia.
When responding to a calling to take in foster children, how do you know when youâve done enough?