Years before we ever adopted our daughter, we called her by name. Each night my husband and I would pray together out loud for our daughter "Grace". We did this for four years. Many times through those four years I wanted to give up, throw in the towel because I thought that God would never send us His Grace. Was He really even there?
Thankfully, God did answer our prayers. A week after we received the news that we had a daughter, my husband and I jumped on a plane to Guatemala, raced to a tiny orphanage in the middle of a crowded, polluted city; and laid our eyes on the teeniest, tiniest five pound six-week-old. I remember my index finger tracing the outline of her miniature features. She was our daughter, but she was not Grace.
Holding our daughter for the first time
While we waited back home in the U.S. (without her) for her adoption to become finalized in Guatemala, she remained nameless for months. I whispered cute names out loud in private to test how they would sound. Sophia?... Emma?... Eva?... all beautiful, but not right.
Daddy and daughter~ Antigua, Guatemala
One evening I ran across a new blog with an adorable toddler who was also adopted. Her mama posted a picture of her in a new shirt. The little shirt had "Isabella" monogrammed across the front. I don't know what it was about the shirt- I swear it spoke to me- Name your daughter "Isabella", and we did. I never told anyone about that night, nor about that little shirt.
Fast forward two years.
Now here's the part that I'm still trying to wrap my mind around...
Guess what just arrived in the mail Monday out of the blue? That same shirt- sent by the mother who posted that picture two years ago. There are lots and lots of Isabellas she could have sent it to, but for some reason she felt she needed to send it to me. I told this mom the story of her daughter's shirt. She was stunned!
To me it's God's fingerprint in the tiniest of details.
Have you, by chance, seen His fingerprint lately in your life? I would love to hear about it!