My baby was born 21 years ago today.
I was not there. I did not see him take his first breath. I did not cuddle him to my breast or stroke his hand or count his fingers or kiss his forehead that day. I did not hear him cry, watch his eyes struggle to see the light or smell his babyness.
But God was there, and His plan was unfolding.
Abby “interrupted” our lives at the point when we had given up and given over and began to make other plans. I’ll tell her story at another time, but she turned 4 in 1989. She was a very social child–the kind who needed a sibling. So we began the rigorous adoption process again.
All the while she prayed every night. “God, send me a baby real soon.”
We didn’t cling to a lot of hope. We worked with an adoption agency whose probing sometimes made us feel that they questioned our faith. We teetered over the edge of their age limits, and we had made a specific request for a newborn infant girl because closets and bins brimmed with all kinds of girly things. We lived in a pink world. Besides, we weren’t boy people.
And the name barrel overflowed with lovely girl names. Only one boy name dripped in after months of nameless drought–Jeremy. It had Biblical origins (Jeremiah) and overtones of my father (Jerome.) We allowed that name to float there but told nobody.
One Sunday night, Abby changed her prayer. “God, please send me a baby brother real soon.”
Our caseworker called the next morning. “We have a 6-month-old boy we want you to consider.”
My heart tumbled to my knees. A boy!
“He was born a month premature and has been in foster care. He is now ready to be adopted, and we want to place him in a family where he will have an older sibling. We want to bring him tomorrow so you can meet him and visit your pediatrician.”
I was stunned. This was so not in our plan.
But I knew we really had no choice. I stammered, “What does the foster family call him?”
The response took my breath away.
“The foster family named him JEREMY–but you can change it if you want.”
There was no choice!
Abby had a saying in those days for someone who was really special to her. She would say, “So-and-so is my best buddy.”
The caseworker and the foster mom brought Jeremy to visit the next day–dressed in a sleeper that had “My Best Buddy” embroidered over his heart.
Sometimes God shouts!
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
Have God’s plans ever interrupted your plans? Have you ever heard God shout?
Copyright © 2009 by Sandra Heska King