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imagine raising someone else’s child.Watching Matt, seeing his face light up when he talked about adopting … He shook his head. “I don’t think I could do it.”
    Matt picked up his guitar. One string at a time, he strummed a chord that soothed the anxious places in Tanner’s soul. “Do what?”
    “Adopt. Raise someone else’s child.” He clenched his fists and relaxed them again. “I missed watching Ty grow up. Doesn’t God know we want another baby?”
    “I’m sure He does.” Matt gazed up at the moon. “More than any of us will ever know.”
    Tanner exhaled hard. “I know. I hate when I doubt.” He uttered a single laugh, one that was more frustration than humor. “Look at me. Fighting religious freedom battles in front of the entire nation and doubting whether God can bring us a child.”
    Again Matt moved his fingers over the guitar strings. “Doubts are normal. But don’t stop praying, Tanner. God has a plan; He always does.”
    As they fell into silence, Tanner realized how much lighter his heart felt. His problems hadn’t been solved. Jade would still be tired when they left the Bronzans’ that night, and the empty longing for a baby would still be as real as the air they breathed. But somehow the time spent relaxing with Matt had given him hope again. His friend’s enthusiasm about adopting was contagious. It left Tanner believing that one day—maybe one day soon—they’d be celebrating their own good news.
    “So, what’s the next step?”
    Matt let his hands rest on the edge of the guitar, and Tanner was struck by the calm in his friend’s face. A calm that was only possible by walking through the fire and coming out refined on the other side. “We’ve already talked to our social worker and she’s looking for an available child.”
    “A girl, right?”
    Matt nodded. “Hannah and I both want a little girl. Three or four years old, doesn’t matter what ethnic background. We would have a better choice of children if we were interested in the foster-adopt program. We’re licensed for it, but neither of us wants to risk getting a child and having her taken away.”
    “So you want one who’s already legally available?”
    “Right. Our social worker doesn’t think it’ll take long.”
    Again Tanner was struck by Matt and Hannah’s faith. So much could go wrong with a child abandoned to the social services system. Drug abuse, bonding issues, or worse. Watching Hannah and Matt go through the adoption process was like watching a living illustration of faith. “What about that Haitian agency?”
    “Heart of God? Great group of people. We filled out the paperwork and paid the program fee, but they didn’t know how long it would take until they had a girl that age. Right now, their older children are almost all boys.”
    “And now Hannah wants to adopt from the U.S.?”
    “At first she was afraid to. That’s why we looked at Haiti. The statistics are …” Matt’s voice drifted and he clenched his jaw. “More than ninety percent of the U.S. kids legally free for adoption have been abused. Some of them so bad it would take a miracle to make a difference.”
    Tanner narrowed his eyes, barely making out a sailboat on the darkened horizon. “You’re taking a big risk.”
    “Yep.” Matt didn’t sound worried, only accepting, confident. “There’s always a risk.”
    An easy silence fell between them again, comfortable, meaningful, and Matt moved his fingers over the strings, blending his music with the sounds of the sea.
    Muffled voices broke the reverie—Jade and Hannah were back—and Tanner looked at his watch. He swung his legs over the side of the lounge chair and patted Matt on the shoulder.“Well, friend, I guess we’re both in need of the same thing then.”
    Matt set his guitar down, stood and stretched. “What’s that?”
    “A miracle. Nothing short of a miracle.”

Three
     
    G race Landers lay in her sleeping bag and trembled. The voices were always loud,