Keeping It Real

I love working on our sweet nursery, but, if I’m honest, there are days when it feels like I’m just decorating a random room—one that won’t actually be used. I have a vision of how I’d love the space to look when complete, but strangely, that vision doesn’t always include a real human occupant. I’ve shared before that this road to adoption, which is going on 3.5 years for us, can feel highly theoretical at times…okay, a lot of the time. We have to remind ourselves that there will be an end to our waiting, and that end will include a precious baby whom God has chosen for us.

So, to keep the idea of our baby real, I’ll sometimes wander the baby aisles at Target. I don’t actually spend much time in the baby gear and clothing sections though. I guess it’s because we have a lot of that at home, and that stuff doesn’t necessarily equate a real baby in my mind. Rather, I’ll peruse the aisles full of diapers, creams and ointments, and formula. For some reason, these bring me back to the eventual day-to-day reality that is coming—days full of diaper changes, baths and baby lotion, and late-night feedings.

The other day I found myself in Target by myself (yes, every woman’s dream), and I found myself wandering toward the baby section. My heart was feeling particularly heavy that morning with waiting and uncertainty. So, I began to pray as I wound my way through the aisles. “Lord, would you protect our sweet baby? Would you give his or her birth mom Your peace? Would you calm my anxious heart and help me trust You in this time?” Slowly, the ache in my heart began to fade, replaced by His peace. I looked up and realized I had stopped in the bath aisle. I also realized that we don’t actually have anything to bathe our little one with when he or she arrives. “There’s no reason I can’t pick something up now,” I thought. So I did. As I placed the items in my cart, items we will one day, hopefully not too long from now, use for our little one, our sweet baby felt more real than he or she has in a very long time.


The great thing was, as Zach was helping me put away what I had bought, he didn’t even bat an eye at my baby purchase. Instead he said, “Oh, cool! These will be helpful when our kiddo comes.” I love that man. So, we’re continuing our wait, only now more equipped to bathe our sweet baby when he or she arrives. We would appreciate your prayers for our little one, his or her birth mom, and for us as we wait for those nighttime baths to be our new reality. Thanks for your support on this road of ours.

More Nursery Progress

I apologize for the sporadic posts so far this year. Life has been a little crazy around here, but I’m back to share more of the progress we’ve made in our nursery. We actually have several projects in progress for our baby’s room, so you’ll likely see a number of nursery-related posts in the weeks to come as we finish those.

Like any mama-to-be, I’ve been scouring the land of Pinterest for nursery ideas and inspiration. I started by pinning adorable boy and girl rooms, but realized we’ll ultimately need something more gender-neutral since we don’t know if God has a baby boy or girl for us. In those pinning sessions (which I’ll admit have happened far too often), I kept seeing super cute wall-mounted bookshelves. Folks had used picture ledges to hold and display children’s books in their nurseries. Not wanting to purchase anything I didn’t have to, I thought, “I can totally make those.” I should know by now that when I say I can make something, it usually means: I have an amazing dad who is willing to spend a day (or two, or three) in his workshop with me doing most of the work while I watch and help a little.

So, a few days later, after a phone call to my dad, I was on my way over to his house to make shelves for our nursery. I looked up the dimensions of several picture ledges sold online and we used those as a rough guide for our own. First, we cut the wood down to size.


Next, we screwed together the three pieces that made up each shelf. We had cut enough wood to create five shelves.


After drilling holes to mount the shelves onto the wall, we gave each shelf a few coats of white paint:


The picture above also gives you a sneak peek at our new rug for the nursery. Zach will tell you he thought I was crazy for wanting to put a rug over carpet, but he was willing to give it a shot. We still have to pick up a proper rug pad to keep it in place, but Zach’s definitely a fan of the new stripe action.

We haven’t mounted the shelves yet because I’m waiting until a couple of other items are in place to be sure everything is spaced evenly, but the idea will be to mount a couple of the shelves at child height, so our little one can grab a book and go to town whenever he or she wants. Reading was huge for Zach and I as kids, and this fun project is a simple way we can make books accessible for our baby-to-be. To give you an idea of what the shelves will look like when in use, I staged these shots:



We can’t wait to share more photos of our progress in our little one’s room! Thanks for continuing to follow our journey. We’re so grateful for your love and support.


Hello! Long time no post, eh? Let’s catch up a bit. After God so graciously allowed us to reach our $25,000 fundraising goal this past November, we were able to enjoy the holidays with our families. I can’t begin to explain the joy and peace we have felt knowing that God so beautifully provided all of our adoption funds. So when people have asked how things are going, we can’t help but say, “Great!” We’ve been officially certified and on the waiting list for a little more than six months now. Average wait times can be a year or even longer before some families are matched, so we’re trying to just enjoy the time we have together before our little one arrives.

If I’m honest, we’ve been pretty busy, so the past few months have flown by. Some weeks it’s been all I can do to meet my deadlines and keep our house in working order (this does not mean clean, mind you). And while we try to pray for our sweet baby boy or girl each night before bed, one other activity has helped remind me to trust in God’s timing in all of this: dusting. Yeah, that’s not a typo, and yes, it’s one of my least favorite chores, too. I tend to try to do it really quickly, which does not garner great results. Sometimes I see if I can just dust around things. You know how it is…well, if I don’t move those books, who would possibly be able to see the dust on or under them?

While I employ this half-hearted technique throughout the rest of the house, when I reach the nursery, I somehow always pause. I slow down and look around me. I think of how many months I’ve dusted an empty room…waiting…praying for the occupant to arrive soon. Wondering what he or she will look like. Trusting that, just as I faithfully wipe the layers of dust from my empty crib, God is faithfully meeting me where I’m at, lovingly changing me through this journey. I move to the dresser, thinking of all the horrible diaper changes to come and continue praying, “God, would You watch over my precious baby? Would You be faithful in caring for him or her? Would you help me trust You no matter how many more times I have to dust this empty room?”

The awesome part is I know God will be faithful because He’s already shown Himself to be exactly that. So, I’ll keep dusting and praying as we wait for sweet Baby Linton. Thank you praying with me and for our little one while I dust. :)

A Beautiful Story

Life for the Lintons has felt pretty surreal the past couple weeks. Let me tell you why: We met our fundraising goal!! That’s right, every single, solitary dollar of our $25,000 adoption is paid for. We still can’t believe it. Not a cent stands between us and being able to afford our adoption. And it’s all by God’s grace through the generosity of our friends, family, and their communities. We can’t tell you how many days we went to the mailbox, only to return with tears of joy as we held heartfelt notes with gifts attached. Or how many times we were humbled by old friends and people we didn’t even know as they extended financial support our way.

When we began to consider private adoption, the biggest hurdle for both of us was the cost. It felt insurmountable, unattainable, even crazy to think that we could come up with that amount of money. And yet, here we are, not even six full months after we started down the private adoption road, and our fees are paid in full.

To those of you who contributed to our fund—thank you. To those of you who donated items to our rummage sales and clothing drive—thank you. To those of you bought t-shirts, jewelry, or shopped our rummage sales—thank you. To those of you who shared our story with others—thank you. And to those of you who prayed with and for us—thank you. We could not have done this without each of you.

When I think about what my baby’s story will be, I can’t help but smile. It’s a story of long waits, heartache, and unknowns. But, it’s also a story of God deepening our love for Him and for this child through the wait, of Him changing our hearts through the pain, and helping us to trust Him through the unknowns. It’s a story of what should of been an end turning into a new beginning. It’s a story of hurdles that were too high and of challenges too great. But it’s also a story of God’s people coming together, prompted by Him to help us not just get past the hurdles and challenges, but to sail high above them. Can you see it? This sweet baby, loved and known by God since before he or she was formed, will know that he or she was loved and wanted by family, friends, and hundreds of others, all of whom gave what they could so we could bring our little boy or girl to their forever home. What a beautiful story. What an incredible God we serve.

Now, we continue to wait, trusting God for His timing and hoping that He’ll allow us to hold our precious baby before too long. We’ll continue to keep you posted on our adoption journey and on our thoughts along the way. And we cannot say it enough, from the bottom of our hearts, thank you so, so much.

Nursery Progress

Part of entering the adoption process for the second time after losing our foster son has involved cherishing the memories we had with that precious boy while preparing our hearts and the nursery for our baby-to-be. I LOVED that we did our foster son’s room in a cool-nerd spaceship theme.
Nursery BeforeBut, since he left our family, those spaceships (while still incredibly cool and nerdy) have been a painful reminder of him. I see the tiny spaceship print on the crib sheet and am immediately reminded of the countless times I layed him down to sleep. Well, it was more of a rock him gently, carefully put him down, and run out of the room praying technique that I employed.

All this to say, we’ve been undertaking “Operation Refresh the Nursery for As Little Money As Possible.” We’re still dedicated to saving as much as we can for the adoption, but, recognizing the painful reminders things can carry, we want to create a fresh space for our sweet baby. First up in this operation was the gorgeous dresser my father helped me refinish. We were excited to break even on that trade by using refinishing materials we already owned and selling our old dresser/changing table at our rummage sale. So, next up on the list was painting the walls.

Now, if you know much about me, you’ll know I have a hard time making up my mind. It’s not so much that I waffle between choices as it is that I am super picky, especially when it comes to wall colors. So, this past week was dubbed “Paint Testing Extravaganza Week.” It included three trips to Home Depot, two trips to ACE Hardware (where I grabbed paint swatches), and five paint samples. Ridiculous, I know. Anyway, after all my driving around, I finally started putting paint up on the wall.
If you’re having trouble seeing the new color, that’s because the samples I tested were awfully close to the former tan the previous owners had used. After brushing the samples onto the wall, I ended up with this:
Testing Paint
There are actually four paint colors in the picture above (five if you count the original wall color). I call the one on the left, purple gray, the one on the bottom, bright green gray, the one above that, muddy gray, and the one on the top right, my favorite. If you’re rolling your eyes at this point, I really don’t blame you. I know the difference between the wall color and my favorite gray may not warrant the effort of painting for many, but for me, I knew it’d make a huge difference. It would also help me get rid of the yucky peach tan walls I’ve been loathing for three-plus years.

So, onward we went with painting, Zach gamely rolling the walls while I cut in—both of us wondering if we were covering the peachy color at all because it was almost impossible to tell the difference between the wet paint and the old color. But, after an afternoon of painting, we were left with this:
Day 1 of Painting
The walls look a little blotchy in this shot because they were still drying, but I’m thrilled with the new color. It’s much more of a gray tan, and the soothing effect it has is crazy. I’ve found myself walking into the nursery and saying, “Ahhhh,” when there’s no one else to hear me—it’s that soothing. Plus, it allows us to keep this nursery refresh gender neutral since we don’t know if God has a boy or a girl in store for us.

We touched up the paint in a few spots the next day and put the room together the day after that.
Nursery Progress 1
Ignore the bins of toys sitting randomly on the floor and the lack of blinds on the window. I know it’s a lot of neutral tones, but to me, this room says “blank slate,” “fresh start,” and “tons of potential.” You might notice the spaceship bedding and curtains are gone. A nice gal is coming to pick those up this week after I listed them on Craigslist. We plan to use the money to buy new bedding.
Nursery Progress2
The crib is new, too—well, new to us. I had been eyeing this exact crib on Pinterest, but knew there was no way we could afford it. I happened to glance at Craigslist one day and saw the very same crib listed for just $50. I freaked out, called the gal, and went to pick it up that evening. It’s in terrific shape. Plus, we were able to sell the old crib at our rummage sale. I think we made money on this switch. :)

Zach teases me for “trading out all of our furniture,” but I think he just means the nursery furniture. I know stuff is just stuff, and I’d be the first to tell you not to cling to any of it too tightly, but as I’ve found these little treasures—first the beat-up dresser, then the exact crib I wanted for 1/8 of the price—they felt like second chances. God is graciously giving Zach and I a second chance to parent, to love a child and welcome him or her into our family. And, along the way, He’s also giving me reminders that He’s a God of second chances, a God who cares about our pain and our experiences, and a God who loves us more than we can imagine.

We’ll keep you posted on our nursery progress. I’m sure it will involve more Craigslist “trading” as we move forward. As a quick note, we know this road to our adoption may seem long, but we’re incredibly grateful to have your support. Knowing that our family and friends, and many people we don’t know, are walking this journey with us means more than we can say. So, thank you!

Clothing and Shoe Drive

We’re back with another fundraising opportunity: a clothing and shoe drive! One of Zach’s super awesome co-workers connected us with Angel Bins, a nonprofit that pays by the pound for the clothes and shoes you collect and donate to them. They’ve agreed to make a check out to our adoption agency, Bethany Christian Services, for the money we raise from this drive.

Zach and I just went through our closet to see what we could donate. I promise that is the only reason why my clothes fit so well on my half of the rod now. I’d also like to note that I may have an inordinate amount of black clothing.

From now until November 7, you can help us by going through your closets and donating any of the following items you no longer need:

  • Clothing
  • Shoes (gently used and paired by tying laces together or with a rubber band)
  • Purses
  • Belts
  • Tablecloths
  • Curtains
  • Blankets and comforters
  • Books
  • DVDs
  • CDs

You can also help us by sharing this with your family and friends. I think most of us have some “extra” stuff in these categories taking up room in our house. So, take advantage of the chance to free up storage space and bring us closer to having our sweet baby home.

If any of you are interested in collecting items at your places of work, we’d love to give you large cardboard boxes to fill along with flyers explaining our fundraiser.

As with our rummage sales, we’re glad to pick up any items you have for us. Give us a call, shoot us an email, or fill out our contact form and we’ll schedule a pick-up time that’s convenient for you.

Thank you for all of your support on this journey. We’re thrilled to have such amazing people helping us adopt our precious little one.

Keeping the Hope Alive

I’ve been feeling more and more lately that this sweet baby boy or girl who God has for us is highly theoretical at this moment. We don’t know much about what he or she will be like. And while he or she could, for all we know, be growing inside his or her birth mom this very minute, we have no way of knowing right now. I shared with Zach tonight that sometimes talking about something often without having that thing (in this case, that person) with you can create a detachment of sorts. It’s not that we want our precious baby any less—our desire and love for him or her is only deepening with time—but there are days when he or she seems more like a beautiful idea than an eventual reality.

We’re fast approaching the three-year mark since we first dove head first into the world of adoption. And, while we’ve grown and changed immensely as individuals and as a couple, our nursery is still empty, just like it was three years ago. I’m so thankful that it’s not a room I dread going into anymore, but its emptiness can wear on me. I’ll have several super great weeks where I feel energized and hopeful, and then a day, or two, or three, where my spirits sink a bit. If anyone else is on this crazy wonderful road of adoption, or if you know someone who is, I thought I’d share a few of the ways Zach and I work through those rough days to keep the hope alive that it won’t be long before we’ll hold our baby in our arms.

1. Talk to God and each other.
Over the past few years, we’ve worked hard to keep our lines of communication open. We laid the ground rule that it didn’t matter if you were feeling the same despair, frustration, or sadness for the umpteenth time, we wanted the other person to share it. With that said, we have also tried to take those conversations and pray about them. After all, if you just share with each other, you can eventually pull each other down until you’re both talked out and bummed out. So, we take our ideas, our concerns, and our hurting hearts to God, knowing He cares for us—and we leave those cares at His feet. They’re not ours to carry.

2. Work toward tangible goals that make your little one’s arrival seem more real.
We’ve tried to give ourselves projects related to our baby’s homecoming to remind ourselves that this really will happen. From cleaning out the garage to make more room to store baby gear to finding fun crafts that help us capture our adoption journey so far, these hands-on activities have energized us throughout our wait. My latest project that’s helping me keep the hope alive?
photo 2-11
Yep, paint swatches. Okay, it’s really painting our nursery, but one of the steps toward my goal was to go pick out swatches. The next step will be grabbing a few samples of paint and trying them on the walls. It’s the little things, the tiny steps you take that can help remind you that just as you’re holding those swatches in your hands today, one day you’ll be holding a very real, absolutely incredible baby.

3. Read, watch, listen, and learn!
While the agony of days, months, and even years slipping by while you wait for a baby to join your family can be excruciating at times, we’ve tried hard to see this time as a gift. I know, here I am saying in this very post that waiting wears on me, but it is also a huge gift. I have time to pray and surrender this process and myself to God, letting Him change me to be more like Him, and hopefully, to be a mom who will point her kid(s) back to Jesus. I have time to talk with others who have kids of their own or who have adopted about what has worked for them and what hasn’t. I have time to read books, listen to adoption advocates, and learn as much as I can about this amazing process. While it’s MORE than okay to have days, or even weeks, when you don’t want to see this time as a gift, don’t let it all pass as you sit idly by. Take advantage of it and grow!

4. Connect with other waiting families.
We have days when we think we may going a little nutty from the ups and downs of adoption. We also have jokes that would probably come across as a little weird to those who haven’t walked this road. And we’re pretty positive that our friends and family, as wonderful as they are, may also be going a little nutty as we talk endlessly about our journey. It’s on these days when it’s especially helpful to connect with other families who are also waiting to bring their kid(s) home. Chances are, they’re going a little nutty themselves. So, reach out, grab dinner, go for a walk, and share those weird jokes—we guarantee they’ll get it! Encourage each other that this wait won’t last forever. Maybe your kids will even be best buds. :)

Hospitality in Adoption

In his last post, Zach talked about the idea of hospitality in adoption. We’ve read a ton about this concept, and since then, we’ve been working hard to turn the theoretical content we’ve come across into real-life action. I’ll interrupt myself to say that I’m largely writing from the perspective of an open adoption, with the birth parent(s) voluntarily relinquishing their child.

Simply put, the idea of hospitality in adoption goes something like this: everyone in the adoption triad (the adoptive parents, birth parents, and child) play the role of the host at some point or another. The birth parent(s) “host” the baby in utero. The adoptive parents then host the baby throughout his or her growing up years. The adoptive parents also host the birth parent(s) if she/they are in the picture as the child grows up. Eventually, the child hosts both the adoptive and birth parents, accommodating them in his/her life.

Hospitality sounds great when you think of yummy southern cooking and well-dressed, smiling people around a gorgeously prepared table. But, as most of us who have survived any wild family holiday gatherings know, hospitality doesn’t always look like that. Sometimes it looks like exhausted cooks staring at a mountain of dishes after an awkward meal, which somehow ended up on the floor in a few places. Sometimes it looks like allowing someone to make an unexpected drop-in when you have a million other things screaming at you from your to-do list. Sometimes it looks like going somewhere you’re not a fan of to be with people you’re not crazy about when you’re feeling fairly awful. Sometimes, it’s setting aside your wants, and stepping way, way outside of your comfort zone to be sure others feel welcome and loved.

Zach and I have talked a lot about this. And while I know the idea may seem intimidating or scary to some, we’re actually excited about the possibility of knowing our sweet baby’s mom (maybe even his/her dad, too!). Getting to know our foster son’s family was one of the most difficult, yet strangely amazing experiences we’ve ever had. We caught a weird glimpse of what it might be like to understand the people who our baby will come from—to know what makes them tick, their family history, and their culture.

So, when we went to a training recently and heard question after question about setting “boundaries” with birth parents, we didn’t react so well. I should probably clarify here: I didn’t react so well. While I had the good sense to keep my mouth shut at the time, I remember thinking, “Boundaries? You want to keep them away?” Now, I know there are many situations in which boundaries are important, even essential to the health and safety of a family and their kid(s), but, as we’re learning, most birth parents create their own boundaries. They think, “Oh, I don’t want to interrupt or butt in. I don’t want to bother them or expect anything from them.” It’s here that adoptive parents can step in and make a world of difference for the birth parents and for the child—all by offering a little hospitality.

So while we haven’t had the opportunity to practice this in the context of adoption, we’re looking for ways to show hospitality in other areas of our lives. So far, the results have been eye-opening. We’re learning to loosen our grip on our time and our needs to show others that they matter to us, and, along the way, we’re gaining a beautiful understanding of how Jesus loves us and loves others.


Understanding Adoption

Over the past few months, we’ve gone to a few different training sessions and read three pretty hard-hitting books that are required as part of our certification. I have to admit, I dragged my feet a bit on the reading. Shannon can tell you, I’m not usually much of a procrastinator (mainly because I’m not a fast reader/writer so I need as much time as I can get). But there are some pretty rough topics that accompany adoption—topics that frankly a lot of guys like me aren’t really prepared to discuss. I had a lot of times when I couldn’t quite muster the emotional energy to keep reading. Topics like: what will we say to comfort our toddler when she mourns the fact that he or she didn’t come from Shannon’s tummy? Or, how will we shield him or her from people’s well-meaning questions that imply that adoption is second-best?

Needless to say, there was (and still is) a lot to learn. But the topic that I found most enlightening was that of hospitality. I hadn’t thought much about it before reading James Gritter’s book, Hospitious Adoption, but open adoption presents a continuous stream of opportunities for each person involved to show hospitality to others. I’m not necessarily talking about the kind of service industry hospitality or even Southern hospitality that goes to great lengths to make guests feel comfortable, although there are definitely lessons to be learned from these categories. I’m talking about the simple things we can do to build trust, set each other’s minds at ease, and show each other that we care and don’t consider ourselves any better (or worse) than anyone else.

That last point can be especially tricky—especially since our culture tends to cast adoptive parents and birth parents in very different lights. Adoptive parents are often seen as saintly, sacrificial child-saviors rescuing kids from certain neglect or abuse. Birth parents, on the other hand, are sometimes viewed as deficient or deadbeat individuals who couldn’t get their act together. But this is so often miles off the mark. Learning all of this and letting it sink in continues to change the way we look at adoption. We’re excited to share more along these lines in the weeks to come, so stay tuned!

Blessed Be Your Name

We sang a song in church this past Sunday called “Blessed Be Your Name.” The first verse says:

Blessed be Your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

“Okay, yeah, I can say that,” I thought. “After all, aren’t those God’s blessings—having plenty and seeing abundance all around you?” The song continued:

Blessed be Your name
When I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name

“Desert? Wilderness? I guess those are still okay—besides, I know how to survive during rough times.”

Every blessing Your pour out
I’ll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

I’ve sung this song countless times, but for some reason, these words started making me a little uncomfortable. It’s one thing to sing about praising God in darkness when you don’t know what that is. It’s like people who say, “Oh I can handle pain,” when the extent of the pain they know stops at a skinned knee. It’s another thing entirely to feel like you’ve walked through some pretty black days and still rise to praise God.

Blessed be Your name
When the sun’s shining down on me
When the world’s all as it should be
Blessed be Your name

This verse is a little weird to me, I gotta admit. I understand the juxtaposition of dark and light, but I don’t remember many days, if any, where everything was just as it should be. But I thought, “Well, if those days were to come, I would still praise God, so I guess I can sing this…”

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

My eyes started to well up at this point. “Suffering? Pain? Okay, yeah I understand those,” I thought. “But ‘blessed be Your name’ in those moments? Honestly?” I realized I had blithely sung these lyrics in the past, without really assessing my heart and attitude toward the Lord in those moments of suffering. I think about the apostle Paul, sitting in prison, singing praises to God—literally blessing God’s name in the midst of his pain. “What do I do in those moments?” I asked myself. If I’m honest, sitting on the floor and crying may be the more likely response—no, not tears of joy for the work God is doing, or for the beauty I know He can create out of painful times. More like tears of frustration, of pain. Tears that say, “Why me? Why now? Why ever?”

As most songs do, this one marched steadily on until we hit the bridge:

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

I couldn’t help it—the tears began to flow. It’s been more than a year since we lost our foster son, but these words brought me back to the pain of those early days without him. “Give and take away? Yeah, that’s just what you did, God, isn’t it?” I asked bitterly. The pain and anger of my thoughts surprised me. Even though we’ve done a tremendous amount of healing in the last year or so, there are still triggers—things that take you back to painful moments.

I took a deep breath, realizing that the song had moved past those tear-filled words. As I let the voices of people praising God wash over me, I heard Him say, “I see your pain. You can trust Me. I love you.” Enter more tears. Tears of relief and surrender. Just when I think I’ve got the healing process down, and I’ve “moved on,” I’m surprised by a new wave of emotion.

It’s a constant decision to surrender to God, trusting that He sees us, He knows our pain, and He loves us more than we can imagine. And, He’s not done with our story. The same God who gave His Son—His only Son—to die on the cross for you and for me, for people who hated Him, mocked Him, and tortured Him, so that we could have life abundantly with Him and be with Him forever…this God has a son or a daughter for Zach and I. He already loves that sweet baby boy or girl in ways we will never understand, and He’s going to entrust him or her to us, allowing us to experience a glimpse of His love for us as we care for our precious child.

So, yes, blessed be Your name, Lord.