My daughter's mother died last month. A strange sentence even to my ears. She was my daughter's birth mother but she and I agreed later that I was her spiritual mother. I got to talk to her before she passed at age 54 from ovarian cancer. We talked a bit about the conversation we had had 35 years ago. My husband and I were foster parents years ago. We had a tiny baby placed with us for a few months and then returned to her parents. It was hard to see that little one go back to a domestic violence situation but it was the law. Months passed and one day I got a call from her birth mother saying that she wanted me to adopt this baby. She said that God had spoken to her and that now she understood that she had given birth to this baby but that I was her “real” mother. I had met this 19 year old for a total of no more than an hour. I went into shock. This is a long and involved story and I wish there was time to share with you all the nuances of what God wrought in each of our lives during the next few months. Some of them are still hard for me to comprehend after all of these years. A miracle happened and I had the privilege
of being part of it. It brought me to my knees and strengthened my faith.
I am grateful.