A few years into our marriage, we decided it was time to expand our family. We were filled with excitement and anticipation, imagining little footsteps running through our home. But month after month, each test came back negative. One year passed, then two, then four. I would cry out to God, “Why? Why can’t I get pregnant? Why does it seem so easy for everyone else? Am I not good enough to be a mother to my step-son? Will I never experience the joy of holding my own child?”
As time went on, God slowly began to reveal a hard truth to me. I realized I had been placing my desire to be a wife and mother above Him. I had been treating my roles as an idol, believing only children could fill the emptiness in my heart. Then, one evening, about four years into our journey, I reached a breaking point. Alone in my house, clutching my Bible, tears streaming down my face, I screamed, “Why, God? Why?” I couldn’t pray anything more than those desperate words.
And then, a quiet, profound peace came over me. The Holy Spirit spoke gently but clearly: “I am all you need.” Over and over, the words echoed in my heart. In that moment, I understood that I didn’t need children to complete me. I didn’t even need my husband to define my joy. I could find wholeness in Christ. My longing softened as I rested in His love, learning to experience true joy and peace as His child.
By the fifth year of trying, we began searching for answers. Doctors confirmed what we had begun to suspect: there were issues that made conceiving naturally nearly impossible. My heart broke anew as I mourned the possibility that we may never have children in the “traditional” way. But even in the midst of sorrow, I could feel God’s presence holding us steady, guiding us forward.
Though options like fertility treatments were available, the financial cost was overwhelming—tens of thousands of dollars not covered by insurance. Around that time, our church held its annual “Orphan Sunday,” a day to pray for, remember, and take action for orphans worldwide. As the service ended and everyone else filed out, my husband and I sat silently, looking at each other. “What do we do?” I asked, tears in my eyes. “We pray,” he replied.
For the next two months, we prayed. In January 2014, we began the adoption process for Haiti. But far across the globe, in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, God was already at work, preparing our daughter for us. Over the following year, countless miracles unfolded as we submitted our paperwork and waited to be matched with a child.
We had specifically requested to adopt a child with a limb difference, hoping this might expedite the process. During the wait, I received emails from Rainbow Kids, an organization that connects families with children with special needs worldwide. I had been deleting them faithfully, afraid to let my heart break again. But one September day in 2015, as my finger hovered over the delete button, the Holy Spirit whispered, “Wait.”
I hesitated, but I obeyed. A few clicks later, there she was: a little girl in a yellow sundress, her punk-rocker hair sticking out in every direction, a defiant, sassy look on her face that seemed to say, “Bring it on.” She was one year old, born without arms from the shoulders down. My breath caught. “Lord, how can she be ours? She’s not Haitian,” I whispered. And again, God said, “This one.”
I shared her bio with my husband, unsure how he would respond. “She’s adorable,” he said simply. Hope sparked in my heart. I called her agency, then our Haiti agency, and over the next few months, every logistical hurdle was overcome. The paperwork moved swiftly. God provided financially, emotionally, and spiritually—never once did we have to pause.
On August 30, 2016, we boarded a plane for Vietnam, traveling 8,960 miles to meet our daughter. Crossing the International Date Line, we arrived in Ho Chi Minh City around 3 a.m. The next morning, we were led to the orphanage, our hearts pounding with anticipation. As we walked down the rows of cribs, my eyes fell on her—sleeping peacefully in the last crib on the right. Time seemed to stop.
The nanny woke her, and she blinked at me. I whispered, “Hi baby girl, we’re here.” At first, she didn’t respond with hugs or smiles. She was cautious, crying at times, unsure of us. Over the next three days, we visited her, played with her, and slowly earned her trust. On the third day, we left the orphanage with her, knowing this was just the beginning of our life together.
Since bringing her home, she has been an absolute blessing. Every tear I cried, every desperate prayer I whispered to God, He answered beyond what I could have imagined. She is fearless, spirited, and full of life. She navigates the world with her feet, creating masterpieces, mastering daily tasks, and teaching everyone around her about courage, joy, and God’s design.
Her story is a testament to God’s faithfulness. From our years of waiting and longing to the miracle of finding her, His plan has been perfect. Every detail, every step, every challenge was woven together for this moment. He is all-powerful, all-wise, and infinitely good. And our hearts are overflowing with gratitude for the gift of our daughter—our miracle, our joy, and the perfect addition to our family.
