For about a week I've been basking in the miracle of adoption. If you snicker at the cheesy ring that sentence has, well, humor me. It's late and I've eaten the last bit of chocolate in the house. I'm not fibbing about the basking (or the chocolate).
On a sidenote-I hate that the word 'miracle' has been so overused that it doesn't stop someone in their tracks when they hear it. It's this desensitized-yeah-whatever attitude that keeps people from stopping to contemplate a wonderful happening. So, I'm using the word miracle in it's most proper sense. An inexplicable act of God. Are you with me now?
Sit still for a spell...and...think...about the miracles that have to take place for one child to meet up with their forever family. Don't make the mistake of thinking that it's just filling out paperwork and then being paired with a child. That would be like saying birthing a baby is buying a pregnancy test and finding an OB.
Some of these miracles we never hear about, but, oh, I can only imagine. I have been, imagining (as I'm furiously still trying to unscrew one stubborn bolt from Ella's headboard...two days later). I'm wondering what happened before our referral. How many 'little' miracles had to take place for our kids to meet up with us.
I'm absolutely certain that there is an amazing story of God's providence behind our long wait. I witnessed the miracles that took place when we adopted Ella. At the time they were inconveniences. Some of them were downright dreadful. Then the day came when God drew back the curtain and we got a glimpse of what was going on backstage. What a story. It gives me chills when I think about it.
And I'm in awe again, wondering what has gone on to bring these two children into our family. This post seemed so timely to me.