I don’t have a lot of words this morning to adequately express how grateful I am. For me to even utter that last phrase is a miracle.

I’ve been in a terrible funk and I didn’t know, at one point, if I was ever going to come out of it. Overwhelmed barely scratches the surface of how I’ve been lately and it has threatened every aspect of my life. So to sit here this morning and feel that same feeling for the complete opposite reason is indescribable.

At one time in my life, I longed so desperately to hang more than two stockings on the fireplace. I longed to experience the hustle and bustle of playing Santa and finding things to buy a little one. To fill a home with the excitement of the Christmas Spirit. To disciple offspring in the ways of Jesus. For so long, I ached for the difficulties and joys of raising a child.

This morning as I sat in my comfy quiet time chair, I approached our time with a quick prayer of thanks for new mercies and for more blessings than I know what to do with. I lifted my eyes and the first thing I saw across from me was three stockings hanging from my fireplace.

I wept at the joy.
​
This is evidence of a myriad of miracles that I cannot even begin to explain.

His Word is truth. His Word is life.

My prayer for anyone reading this is that you would experience Him in such a profound and personal way, and so awed by His miraculous work!

Psalm 34:4-5
I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.

My little boy is at the age where he is having to learn about good sportsmanship. Kindergarten is a time and place where making your own rules and playing for the benefit of self and winning takes control of those little hearts and minds.

A few days ago we were in the back yard trying to decide on what we should play. My boy grabbed his soccer ball and told me we were going to try to kick the ball to make a goal. Whoever got to twenty first would win. For him to make a goal and score a point, there were several ways that could happen. For me, though, I had to kick the ball past him and hit the fence in a specific area without going out of bounds. I chuckled at the unfairness but went with it because I knew that some kind of lesson was about to transpire.

As we played, the rules kept changing. If the ball did something that prevented him from scoring, he made up a new rule. It was funny the first couple times, but then my competitive nature sprung to life, and I balked at the absurdity! That didn’t matter to him and he continued to play by his own rules.

One thing he didn’t plan for was that I’m a little bigger, my aim is a little more practiced, and my kick is a little stronger. I kept scoring points within the limits he’d set for me and my name was at the top of the leaderboard the whole game.

Close to the end, this guy was beyond frustrated. His plan was not working out for him and he lost that game he had so meticulously planned to win. When we came inside, he allowed his frustrations to get the best of him. We talked for a few minutes about what good sportsmanship is and how to conduct yourself when you lose because “sometimes in this life you will lose!” I told him how much I loved him and that I wanted him to learn how to lose with grace and grit because it would serve him well in this life. I assured him that I wasn’t mad at him and then sent him to his room to just cool down and think for a little bit.

He emerged from his room a little while later with a completely different countenance and this conversation ensued...

Him: Mom, I thought about what happened.
Me: And what did you come up with?
Him: I have a new plan.
Me: Oh yeah, what’s that?
Him: I think I should apologize for how I acted and try to be a better next time I lose.
Me: 😳

I scooped that boy up in my arms as fast as I could and told him how proud I was of him for doing the right thing. He scurried off to play and I humbly breathed a prayer asking God to help me learn from my six-year-old how to be better when I lose.

Writing a letter to a complete stranger to ask if you can adopt the life growing inside them makes for an awkward situation. I mean how, exactly, should you say it? I must have started a letter just to wad it up and cast it aside more than a dozen times. Realizing that no words would make this un-awkward, I just wrote. Whatever words came out of my pen, I wrote. After all, this opportunity had come about because of God, and getting tangled up in my fears was a waste of precious time.

After reading it, proofing it, and analyzing it, I passed it on to my husband for his thoughts. He also read, proofed, and analyzed it. The minute he blessed it, I sealed that envelope and rushed it to the post office.

When waiting on a life-changing event that may or may not happen, patience is the.most.difficult challenge of all. At least for me.

Waiting for a response from her was excruciating. In this digital age where we have answers immediately to almost everything and have come to so desperately need it, snail mail was less than satisfactory. Nonetheless, it was our only option.

I believe when God makes us wait for something, all He really wants from us is to enjoy our life that He has already given us and thank Him for it every day.

During the wait, I was tempted daily and multiple times a day to wear discouragement and unbelief. Often I gave in to that temptation and moped around, gave in to angry outbursts, cried uncontrollably, and pointed my frustration at other people. I guess you could say I was much like a bridezilla. A mom-to-be-zilla if you will.

Two measly weeks later, I opened the mailbox, and a letter from a prison inmate sat on top of a stack of other less important mail. I opened it gently. Haha…just kidding! I tore into it and sat in disbelief at her message…

Hello. I received your card in the mail yesterday and wanted to get back in contact with you. I have recently made plans for my baby and have chosen a family for him.

However. (Oh…Hallelujah...I love however!)

God laid it on my heart to share your card with a good friend of mine who is in the same situation. She read your card and is definitely interested in giving her baby up for adoption, and she is interested in meeting with both of you soon. Her baby is due in September.
​
~~~~~

Two voices whispered...one a little louder than the other.

Don't get too excited…she won't choose you.
and
I will never leave nor forsake you.

~~~~~

Choices. Choices...

Sticking my neck out there is not a usual characteristic of mine. Playing it safe is more my cup of tea. This prompting offered me another opportunity to choose faith or fear.
​
~~~~

I uttered a prayer while the phone rang.

Lord...please soften the heart of the one who answers.

“...Correctional Institute, how may I help you?”

“Uhhh...my name is Deanna and I am calling about one of your inmates who is pregnant.

With a baby. (Duh!)

She and I have a mutual friend who told me that she requested prayer at one of the bible studies for someone to take her baby when it's born because she does not have anyone to take it and my husband and I are possibly interested in adopting the baby can you give me a contact name or some information about what I need to do?”

Gasp!

My nervousness was obvious.

The motherly voice on the other end asked me if I had contacted the baby’s mother yet. When I told her that I hadn't because I wasn't sure what I needed to do or how to go about contacting her, that sweet angel gave me the information I would need to contact her along with the name and number of her case manager.

My heart leapt.

~~~~

After a quick text to my husband and two confidants telling them to pray, I dialed the number of the case manager.

Somewhat relieved it went to voicemail, my shaky voice blurted out a message and then I hung up. Full of emotion and uncertain that my message made any sense, I got up and went about my day, phone in pocket and notepad in hand.

My phone never rang.

By day’s end I had two voices battling for my attention. One poked fun of me for believing this could actually happen for us.

The other beckoned me with a calm assurance...I will never leave nor forsake you.

Brad and I came back together after a few days of separately pondering the possibility and covering it in prayer. He asked if I had been given any clarity, and when I told him what came into light for me, that was enough for him to bless the decision to move forward. He expressed his concern for us to stay vigilant in prayer and not allow the process that would undoubtedly be challenging to come between us or the goal of adopting a baby become an idol.

Wise words from a wise man.

When a divine appointment is laid in front of you, it infuriates the enemy of your soul. Any barrier he can construct or re-construct becomes his agenda. He knows all about the power of Hope inside his targets and will stop at nothing to de-construct it.

~~~~

“The mother hasn't been back to bible study and Katie doesn't have any information at all. I don't know what to do. I knew this was too good to be true, and this isn’t going to happen for us.”

Hopeless and discouraged, I spewed my angst on my sister.

She questioned, “Have you been praying about it?”

Perturbed, I shot back. “The end of the school year has been nuts! Work is overwhelming right now, and with everyone at my house for the wedding and graduation festivities, I can’t find any time to myself to gather my thoughts or needs to even talk to God about it!”

“Well...I’m not sure what to tell you.”

Wise words from a wise woman!

Her response humbled me. I realized the only thing over which I had control in this situation was to pray. Fervently.

Neither God nor the enemy were going to make it easy. Only I had the power to choose fear or faith. If I chose fear, I would suffer the consequences. If I chose faith, I would reap the benefits.

I ended the call and knew my sister was right. I had to hit my knees and approach this thing from there for the duration of this adventure.

~~~~

Thursday, 6.13.13

Thankfully I’m in a profession that allows me a good chunk of time off to rest, recover, and play.

I started my day with quiet time in God’s Word and prayer. As always, I knew to position my heart with thankfulness and in agreement with Him about my ungrateful attitude I had been wearing. And then I picked up my wants and needs regarding this baby situation and I laid it all out before Him.

Here's what is on my heart, Lord: This baby in Oklahoma that may or may not be born yet. You created him and you created his mom, and I know you have a good plan for him. I don't know why this situation has crossed our path and I don't really understand how we fit in to it. But you do. And Lord, I don't know what to do. Nothing has happened and my friend doesn’t know anything. I don't know what you want me to do...or if you want me to do anything...

Call the prison.

Ummm...what?

Call the prison.
Tell them the scenario.
Ask for a contact name.
Trust.

Lord, I'm scared. What do I say?

Crickets.

I was barely off the phone when the enemy pressed in hard...

Don’t go tell Brad about this. It’s outlandish and the chances that God is going to do anything to help you is is laughable! Besides no one would choose you to be the mother of their baby anyway.

I’m not sure why I ignored the lies this time when falling for them had become so natural. Certainly it wasn’t me, but Hope in me, that defied the natural response. I got off the bed and marched straight into the room where my husband was sitting and told him about our friends I hadn’t seen in ages who knows a girl in prison that is pregnant and doesn’t have a family to take her baby. And...uhhh...the baby is due in about 5 weeks.

Hmmmm.

That was his response.

Why don’t we both pray about it this week and discuss it next week.

~~~~~~~~~~~
​
Praying is exactly what I did. Or begging. The two had become synonymous by that point in my wrestling match with God and discerning between them was pointless. What mattered was that I was still wrestling. I hadn’t tapped out yet.

Over the next week, this new possibility was the focus of my time with Him.

One thing I had learned was to be thankful in my petitions...regardless of my feelings...along with worship and praise. I had learned that how I approached Him mattered because it not only gave Him the respect He deserved, but it placed me in a childlike posture with the ability to receive. He requires things of us that are for our good.

I prayed for wisdom beyond our own. For a peace that would pass understanding. For clarity. And for both of us to receive the same message regarding this trek we might step into.

I also laid out every horrible thought and fear that was poking around my thought life. I cried. I laughed. I said, “Could this be?”. And then I fully received the leaping of my heart at the possibility that the answer could be “Yes, Beloved.”

As usual, the adversary tossed me some ridicule for the new Hope in me.

This time I tossed back.

He will never leave nor forsake me.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, I was up early before work, again petitioning. I opened my Bible and before I could get to the scripture of the day, two verses popped into my mind...

James 1:27
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

And...

Psalm 82:3-4
Defend the weak and the fatherless;
uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.

After reading them in context, I sat quietly and let those scriptures dance around in my head for a while.

This isn't about you. Your comfort. Your lifestyle. Your finances. What you are capable of or not capable of.

At all.

It is about Me and the Hope I give. It is about a baby, who I created and for whom I have a plan.

If I can't use you, I can find someone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He hears us when we ramble from our hearts. He’s in touch with our fears. He knows our flaws. He sees our circumstances.

And sometimes...
...He spells out His.very.simple.Truth.

We recently started a little system with our five year old where he can earn money for tending to his 5 responsibilities.

He eagerly anticipates pay day and asks daily, “When is pay day? How many sleeps till pay day?” He studies his lego magazines and dreams about that one he wants next when pay day finally comes. Persistence is not a problem for this one as he continuously probes us for when when when the moment will come for him to redeem his earnings for that thing he’s longed for.

I respond, more often than I’d like to admit, with annoyance at all the inquiry. Feeling like a broken record, I tell him to trust me to do what I already told him numerous times I would do. Sometimes I utter, “Don’t ask again!”

And then...God whispers to my soul I know someone else who persistently petitions for things her heart longs for.

I’m gently reminded that He doesn’t respond to my longing with annoyance. Instead He comforts, reassures, and delights that I know He’s the only one who can fully satisfy and that I keep bringing it up. He desires for me to come. To bring to Him my wants and needs. To lay down the burden. To bring myself. To entrust every morsel to His ways and His timing and to believe He will do what He said He would do.

​Persistence was His idea, and I don’t think He minds being a broken record.

And then He says...go. Play. Enjoy the blessings I’ve already given you.

Philippians 4:6-7
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God , which transcends all understanding , will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.