I was nervous about the day’s events. I gave my husband a hug before I left the house with his reassurance that, truly, everything was going to be just fine. Even on the short drive, I could only imagine how horrible it was going to be. As I pulled up at my destination, eyeing it with fear, I knew there was no avoiding it. No matter what…
Let’s pretend that we are getting to know each other at a support group for Christian women struggling with various issues. Such groups exist, but they’re sometimes called Bible studies and mommy play-dates.
I sat tensely in the hospital waiting room, trying to keep my breathing steady as I waited anxiously for news. Any moment, a little boy would be born — a baby whom I hadn’t met but already loved as my own. And yet, unlike a normal pregnancy, I didn’t yet have the complete assurance that he would be my child. God had scripted a beautiful story between our family and the baby’s birth mother.
Nearly three years ago, in early December, the day came that we decided to move forward. A peace had come upon us with whispered assurances from the Lord … start now. After waiting for that peace for nearly seven years, it seemed like a dream; picking up the phone, contacting the agency, and saying, “Please mail me an adoption application.”
To this day I can still vividly remember all the details of a darling vintage painting my mom hung in my girlhood room…
One evening not long ago we had just settled our family down for dinner, hushing our four kiddos and instructing them to close their eyes and fold their hands for prayer…