Back when John Foster first walked into the American Idol audition room, cowboy hat in hand and a nervous grin stitched across his face, he probably didn’t expect to get gut-checked by one of country’s biggest stars.

Luke Bryan, never one to sugarcoat, looked him square in the eye and questioned whether the Louisiana kid had what it took to go the distance.

“I didn’t know if you could sing good enough,” Bryan said during that early audition.

Fast forward to Top 7 night, and Bryan was singing a whole new tune. “Man, no one has ever proved me more wrong,” he admitted, eyes wide with disbelief and pride. “And I’m so glad.”

It’s the kind of full-circle Idol moment that rarely writes itself so neatly, but Foster didn’t stumble into it. He earned it with one of his most vulnerable and controlled performances: George Strait’s timeless love song “I Cross My Heart.”

As part of Judges’ Choice week, each contestant was handed three songs anonymously picked by the judges.

Foster picked Strait’s hit without knowing it was Carrie Underwood’s selection and delivered it like a seasoned barroom crooner with something real on the line.

Foster stood still at center stage. No overdone theatrics. Just a soft sway, a hand on the mic, and a look toward his girlfriend, Brooklyn, who was beaming near the front row.

“I’ve never been able to sing a love song and mean it,” he said before the performance. “This one’s for Brooklyn.”

And when the first notes dropped, it wasn’t just for her anymore. The whole room quieted. You could feel the shift.

No frills, just Foster’s smooth baritone wrapping around every word, giving it the kind of warmth that reminded the audience why George Strait songs still matter. It was country, clean, honest, and unfussy.

Carrie Underwood, his unlikely champion throughout the season, leaned forward in her chair. “That was absolutely perfect,” she said. “It felt comfortable. It felt genuine.”

That’s become the throughline of Foster’s run. Comfort, not in complacency, but in self-assurance. This isn’t a contestant trying to bend the genre. It’s a kid who knows where he comes from—Addis, Louisiana, meat-block Cajun roots and all—and who he wants to be.

Week after week, he’s peeled back a layer. From Randy Travis to Bonnie Raitt, he’s dug into the heart of country music without ever sounding like a mimic. That’s no small feat on a show where contestants often feel molded by the moment. Foster feels grounded.

He’s not flashy. He’s not trying to be. And that’s what makes him dangerous in the best way.

So when Luke Bryan watched Foster pour every ounce of sincerity into that George Strait classic, there was no denying it anymore. The kid who “might not be good enough” is not only good enough. He’s making believers out of everyone.