Hands and house

Hands and house

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Even Before....

It was a blustery day in January sitting beside my Dad, so frail in his recliner.

 Home on hospice, this would be one of our last conversations.
He looked up at me and reached out for my hand.

 I leaned in close, "Dad, I have something to tell you."
"We are praying about adopting again, a little boy. I don't know when but I wanted you to know"
With strength weaning,

he sat up.

He began clapping his hands, then pressing them to his lips he said,
"Oh honey, I cannot think of a better gift or a better family! I am going to start praying for him right now."
Tears running down his face, my Dad prayed.
He prayed for this little boy, that God would keep him safe, that God would bring him to us at just the right time.
Over and over again he prayed,
"Thank you, Thank you God, Thank you."
His hand clasped in mine,
the only prayer I have ever heard him pray...
Holy beyond words.
That was January 2012.
So much of life unfolded after that.
My Dad passed away,
Georgia got sick needing heart surgery multiple times.
 We had thought that we would adopted through the foster care system but as Georgia struggled,
that dream got put on the shelf and then we began to assume it just wasn't meant to be.
Over the years,
that conversation has bubbled to the surface...
each time, I would pray for our possible boy,
thinking it probably would not ever happen.
Looking back now,
that conversation was a precursor,
it has paved the way.
It happened mere weeks before Zeke was conceived.
My Dad praying blessing over my son that I did not know...
A Grandfather's prayer,
to bless his Grandson with a joy that took my breath away.
So this Father's Day...
As I ache for my Dad,
ache for my son,
 revel in the breathtaking beauty that is my husband loving our children...
I want to share with you Zeke's full name.
Ezekiel Thomas Ming Zhe Miller
A boy that was hoped for and prayed for before we even knew...
The Lord is writing a story in this child that is like none other, so detailed, so full of blessings from person after person giving not from their wealth but from their hearts.
Little boy so celebrated.
Only God could know what a gift that prayer from my Dad would be...
He may not be here to hold him, but he was the first to bless him, to celebrate him, to pray over him.
I already stand in awe of this little one who so captured his Grandfather's heart.

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