WHEN MY HUSBAND AND I decided to adopt a child, we discovered that the entire process—with so many choices to make—could at times be overwhelming. Then, when we'd finally been approved by the Department of Youth and Family Services in our state, we hoped to receive our baby within a week or two. But the weeks stretched into months.

Turning to God, the Mother and Father of everyone, brought comfort and healing. A psalm promised me, "God setteth the solitary in families" (68:6). As I prayed, it was helpful to realize that instead of a variety of people and agencies determining our, or any family's happiness, God alone brings His children together. I felt sure that with God's care every child would be placed in just the right situation, not taking another's spot or being denied his or her own. These ideas encouraged both my husband and me.

Then we received a call. A two-year-old girl was available, but two other families were also being considered. When another family was chosen, we were crestfallen. I again reached out to God to give me an answer of peace. As I prayed, I realized that beaureaucracy was not our only obstacle; I'd never completely confronted my own fears about becoming a parent. For example, I wondered, could I be a good mother? Would our child like me? How would adopting impact our finances? Could I successfully juggle a career, parenting, and my desire to devote more time to my practice of spiritual healing? Would I even maybe feel trapped by such a commitment?

Now, in true humility, I asked God what to do. Then I remembered this statement by Mary Baker Eddy in Science and Health: "To attend properly the birth of the new child, or divine idea, you should so detach mortal thought from its material conceptions, that the birth will be natural and safe. Though gathering new energy, this idea cannot injure its useful surroundings in the travail of spiritual birth. ... When this new birth takes place, the Christian Science infant is born of the Spirit, born of God, and can cause the mother no more suffering" (p. 463).

Of course, I wasn't physically giving birth, but these ideas felt so appropriate. I reasoned that if God had meant for our family to include a child, then adoption could only bless us. Welcoming a child into our family could certainly never injure our marriage with additional responsibilities or finances—nor could it take away from my contribution in my career or otherwise. As God's idea, each one of us was complete and could only complement the good in each other. I also saw that I couldn't bring injury through any lack of parenting experience. Instead, I was a part of the child's "useful surroundings," naturally expressing the true motherhood of God.

Suddenly I felt like a roadblock had been removed. We soon received a call about a baby boy. Since we'd hoped for two girls at least two years old, we declined. Then as I continued to listen for God's direction, I thought: "Valerie, you've been praying for a long time and just the other day got and answer of peace. Don't you think you owe it to God to at least see this child?"

My husband and I were delighted to find that although an entire week had gone by, the baby was still available. My husband said, "You know once we see him, we'll fall in love with him." And that proved to be so.

By the next week he was home with us. I'll never forget his first big smile as I climbed the stairs to show him his room. It was as if he knew he was home. After the mandatory six-month probation period, the final adoption went through easily.

Today Christopher is almost seven years old. He has a wonderful sense of joy and is curious about everything. All of his needs have been beautifully met without financial strain. Our routines have changed, but the lessons learned have brought new freedom and dominion. And rather than hinder my career and spiritual journey, parenting has promoted it.

This sentence says it all for me: "Spirit, God, gathers unformed thoughts into their proper channels, and unfolds these thoughts, even as He opens the petals of a holy purpose in order that the purpose may appear" (Science and Health, p. 506). css