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Standing on the Edge of a Miracle


How am I supposed to feel right before a miracle?


This question has been on my mind all week as we prepare to finalize the adoption of our son in South Korea.


Next week, we board a plane to finally meet our son and bring him home. We’ve watched him grow through photos and videos over the past 14 months as the world has been ravaged by a pandemic. (Yes, we were matched pre-pandemic, which feels like a lifetime ago.)


It feels like I’m standing on the edge of a miracle right now. I can sense the water getting ready to part, and I can hear the silence of a room filled with the mouths of lions clamped shut.


Over the past year, I have had to lay my expectations and desires down over and over again. Any time I felt a sense of control over our adoption, it was quickly snatched from whatever tiny grasp I perceived to have.

If you read my book Made for More, you know that I’ve struggled with control issues my entire life. I like having a plan, and God has been showing me the freedom of giving every single detail over to Him. This adoption process has forced me to just show up in obedience and lay it at His feet. I can be prepared, but I’m not the finisher. In fact, my humanity keeps me from being able to finish what He has called me to do.


We’ve faced so many unexpected disappointments and delays. We’ve had to provide “further evidence” for immigration. We were forced to do a home study update in two weeks. All while ending up with the judge that is rotating out, which delayed us even more.


I. Did. Everything. Right. And. It. Still. Didn’t. Matter.


That’s the attitude I’ve battled for months.



We are the in-process family that no adopting family wants to be. When we completed Brielle’s adoption five years ago, it was the opposite of this process. If something went wrong, we prayed and the next day it was fixed. Her adoption was filled with the type of miracles that I prefer.


God has officially stripped any ounce of control I still try to hold onto. I have felt a new level of stress. I have grieved over lost time with our son. But, I have never been closer to my Savior and felt my need for Him more.


At the end of this adoption journey, I can’t take any credit. When you see a photo of me holding my new son, just know that God gets all the glory. I did the paperwork, but God brought it to completion.


God has my complete faith and obedience, yet I have so many mixed emotions about traveling next week. I want to burst with excitement that it is FINALLY here, but then I remember the reality staring me in the face.


The COVID tests. The quarantine. The temperature checks. The weeks away from home.


I’m stressed. I’m excited. Sometimes, I’m still in denial that it’s actually happening.


Nobody on earth has taught me how to act right before a miracle happens.


I wonder how Moses felt before he saw the sea actually parting. I wonder how Daniel felt before he realized the mouths of the lions were closed. I wonder how the blind man felt as Jesus was rubbing dirt on his eyes.


And then I remember what Jesus prayed in the Garden.


“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” Luke 22:42


Oh, how often I’ve asked God to take COVID away before we would travel. My oldest daughter, Bailey, prayed these words every night for months.


And yet, nothing has changed with the situation we find ourselves in except for how we perceive and feel God’s mercy over our circumstances.


Next week, my entire family is stepping out of the boat together. I feel us already rowing, and really, we’re rowing against the waves. We are tired, but we are hopeful. Our faith in the One who has called us makes us expectant.


His will. Not ours.


I know we’re simply standing on the edge of another miracle, and we are ready.




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2 comentários


clarissachoochootrain
24 de mar. de 2021

I'm praying for you!

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Lauren Elizabeth Miller
Lauren Elizabeth Miller
24 de mar. de 2021
Respondendo a

Thank you! That means the world to me.

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