Prayers

The everlasting God has in His wisdom foreseen from eternity the cross that He now presents to you as a gift from His inmost Heart. This cross He now sends you He has considered with His all-knowing eyes, understood with His Divine mind, tested with His wise justice, warmed with loving arms and weighed with His own hands to see that it be not one inch too large and not one ounce too heavy for you. He has blessed it…

Father in Heaven, somewhere today there is a child who needs someone. I do not know this child’s name. I do not know the child’s age. I do not know whether this little one lives across the world, across the country, across town—or perhaps much closer to me than I realize. But You know. So today I ask You: Entrust a child to my prayers. A child who especially needs someone to remember him or her before You. I do…

Lord Jesus, today I ask You to place upon my heart one little child whose name I may never know. Somewhere, perhaps today, a new human life is beginning. A child known completely by You. A child whose mother may already know she is pregnant—or may not know yet. A child whose father may be joyful, frightened, absent, supportive, confused, or unaware. A child whose future may already be surrounded by uncertainty. Lord, if there is a baby in danger…

Lord Jesus, there is something we are afraid to say aloud: What if the call never comes? What if we wait and wait— and no one ever chooses us? What if our adoption profile eventually expires? What if the paperwork has to be renewed again and again? What if the fingerprints are taken again, the background checks repeated, the home study updated, the photographs replaced because the ones we submitted no longer even look like us? What if years pass?…

Lord Jesus, there is a fear we do not always say aloud. We whisper around it. We try not to think about it. We tell ourselves to stay hopeful. But sometimes, especially in the quiet, the question comes: What if we never have a child? What if there is never a positive pregnancy test? What if the healing never comes? What if every treatment ends and there is still no baby? What if the adoption call never comes? What if…

Lord Jesus, we are tired. Not ordinary tired. Not the kind that disappears after one good night’s sleep. We are tired from hoping. Tired from waiting. Tired from trying. Tired from explaining. Tired from making decisions. Tired from appointments, tests, medications, procedures, paperwork, profiles, interviews, expenses, phone calls, and questions. Tired from getting our hopes up. Tired from trying not to get our hopes up. Tired from hearing: “Maybe this time.” And tired from discovering that it was not this…

Lord Jesus, we thought this might be our child. Maybe we tried not to get ahead of ourselves. Maybe we told ourselves: Do not fall in love yet. Do not assume anything. Guard your heart. But how do you prepare to become someone’s mother or father without allowing your heart to move toward that child? We imagined. We hoped. Perhaps we saw an ultrasound picture. Perhaps we learned whether the baby was a boy or girl. Perhaps we knew a…

Lord Jesus, somewhere there may be a woman whose life will one day become connected to ours in a way none of us can yet see. We do not know her name. We do not know where she lives. We do not know whether she is pregnant now, whether the child we may someday adopt has already been born, or whether neither of them has yet entered this part of their story. But You know. And before we pray that…

Lord Jesus, Advent has begun again. The Church tells us to wait. To watch. To prepare. To hope. Usually those words sound beautiful. But when we have been waiting for a child for months or years, they can feel almost painfully familiar. We already know how to wait. We have waited through cycles. Waited for appointments. Waited for test results. Waited for treatments. Waited for pregnancy tests. Waited for paperwork. Waited for approvals. Waited for our adoption profile to be…

Lord Jesus, Easter has come. Alleluia. You are risen. The Church is filled with flowers. The candles are bright. The music is joyful. Families arrive dressed for Mass. Children carry Easter baskets. Little girls wear spring dresses. Little boys squirm in their pews. Babies are passed from one pair of arms to another. Everything seems to proclaim: Life. And that can make today both beautiful and painful when we are longing for a child. Lord, we believe in resurrection. We…