Lord Jesus, today we are waiting for a telephone to ring.
Such a small thing—a sound we hear countless times in ordinary life—and yet now every ring can make our hearts stop for a moment. Every unfamiliar number carries a possibility. Every notification makes us wonder, “Could this be it? Could today be the day our lives change?”
You know how strange this kind of waiting is, Lord. We have prepared as much as we can. We have completed paperwork, answered deeply personal questions, opened our home and our lives to examination, made plans, prepared a place, and told strangers the story of who we are and why we long to become parents. We have done what was asked of us.
And now there is so little we can do except wait.
There is no appointment on the calendar telling us when the answer will come. There is no due date. We cannot see anything growing or changing that assures us we are getting closer. We simply live our ordinary days carrying an extraordinary possibility in the background:
Maybe today.
Maybe today someone will call.
Maybe today someone will say there is a mother considering an adoption plan.
Maybe today we will hear about a child.
Maybe today will be the day we remember for the rest of our lives.
And then another day ends, Lord, and the telephone did not ring.
Please stay particularly close in that moment.
When we place the phone beside the bed and realize that today was not the day, protect us from despair. Help us remember that a day without a call is not necessarily a day in which nothing happened.
Somewhere, things may be happening that we cannot see.
A woman may be discovering that she is pregnant.
A mother may be considering what is best for her child.
A father may be wrestling with responsibilities and decisions.
An adoption professional may someday open a file.
A child whose life will eventually touch ours may not even have been conceived yet.
Or perhaps nothing connected to our adoption happened today at all.
We do not know.
And that uncertainty is part of what makes waiting so difficult.
Lord, protect us from trying to turn every coincidence into a sign. Protect us from believing that every unusual phone call, dream, feeling, date, or circumstance must mean the wait is ending. Give us hope without superstition, expectancy without obsession, and trust without pretending we know what You have not revealed.
Protect our marriage during this waiting. Do not let every conversation become about adoption. Help us continue laughing, celebrating, working, serving, praying, resting, and loving one another now. Our family has already begun in the covenant we made to one another. A child will enlarge that family, but our marriage is not merely a waiting room.
And Lord, we pray especially for the person who may someday make that telephone ring.
There may be a mother somewhere whose heart is carrying questions far heavier than ours. While we wait with longing, she may be facing fear, uncertainty, grief, financial difficulty, relationship struggles, or decisions she never expected to make.
Bless her before we ever know her name.
Do not allow our longing for the call to make us forget what that call may cost someone else.
If she chooses to parent her child, give her every support she needs to do so well.
If she freely decides that adoption is best for her child, give her peace, wise counsel, protection from coercion, and the freedom to choose the family she believes can best love and care for her child.
Bless the child’s father as well. Draw him toward responsibility, wisdom, courage, and love.
And protect the little one whose life stands at the center of all these prayers.
Mary, place your mantle around mother and child.
St. Joseph, protect fathers and families.
Blessed Fulton Sheen, intercede for all of us before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.
And Holy Family, remain in this home while we wait.
Bless the phone sitting silently on the table.
Bless the nursery waiting down the hall.
Bless the crib that has not yet held a sleeping baby.
Bless the grandparents who wonder every day whether there is news.
Bless the family and friends who keep praying even when they no longer know what to say.
And bless these two hearts trying to live faithfully somewhere between preparation and fulfillment.
Lord, if the call comes today, give us peace before we answer.
If the call brings possibility, give us wisdom.
If the answer eventually becomes no, hold us through the disappointment.
And if someday the voice on the other end brings the news we have waited so long to hear, let our first response be gratitude to You and reverence for every person whose life and sacrifice made that moment possible.
Until then, we will keep the phone nearby.
We will keep praying.
We will keep living.
We will keep loving.
And each morning, we will allow ourselves to whisper once again:
Maybe today.
Jesus, if today is not the day, give us grace for today.
If tomorrow is not the day, give us grace tomorrow.
And if the telephone finally rings with the call that changes everything, let us remember that You were present during every silent day that came before it.
Always remember Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Holy Family! Help us to be a holy family and pray for us!
Amen.