Lord Jesus,
There is a room waiting.
Maybe there is an empty crib.
Tiny clothes folded in drawers.
Books waiting to be read aloud.
A name imagined.
A car seat still in its box.
And there are arms with no child in them.
Lord, this is a strange kind of pregnancy—the long gestation of adoption, with no due date, no growing belly, no little kicks to reassure us that the waiting is leading somewhere.
Only hope.
And sometimes even hope hurts.
Remember tonight every mother and father waiting for an adoption match.
Remember the ones who have waited months.
Remember the ones who have waited years.
Remember those who have received the call and then watched everything fall apart.
Remember those afraid to become excited anymore because disappointment hurts too much.
Lord, somewhere there may be a frightened mother wondering what she should do for her baby. Surround her with people who will love her, protect her, and never coerce her. Give her wisdom, support, peace, and freedom.
And if adoption becomes her freely chosen path, guide the child to the family You have prepared.
Blessed Fulton Sheen, pray for these waiting families.
Our Lady of Guadalupe, Mother of mothers, remain close to every expectant mother facing an uncertain future.
And Holy Family of Nazareth, enter every quiet nursery and every aching home.
Until the child comes, dwell there Yourself.
When the waiting becomes unbearable, carry them.
And if it pleases God, let the waiting end.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, make our homes like Nazareth.
Holy Family, help us to be holy families and pray for us.
Amen.