I sat across the table from two miracles yesterday.

The first was a precious, five-month-old baby girl, with ebony hair and pewter eyes. She looks just like her mama. You’d never guess she was adopted.

As we visited over tea, my friend shared how her daughter’s birth mother had used drugs, unaware that she was pregnant. How her morning sickness eventually became so severe that she had no other option but to stop using. How this possibly spared both of their lives.

A godly family took her under their wing. With their encouragement and support, she chose to carry her baby to term and place her in a loving home. Which is where her story and my friend’s story became divinely, mercifully intertwined.

What does this brave birth mom think of her decision now? She recently said this to my friend:

She is your missing puzzle piece and my saving grace.”

Amazing, miraculous grace.

That same evening I slid into a restaurant booth across from a slender, sweet-spirited teen, with braided ombre hair and dark almond eyes. I knew she was adopted, because she looks nothing like her mom.

As we chatted over a late dinner of pasta, she shared a little of her story. How her first “home” was a Chinese orphanage, which only housed children up to the age of twelve. How these twelve-year-old orphanage “graduates” were then put out on the streets. How as an infant she was adopted by her parents right before the Chinese government began restricting foreign adoptions.

She stated all of this information quite matter-of-factly. But I knew that, for the second time that day, I was beholding the face of a miracle.

A little over a month ago I went back to work part-time as a “Client Advocate” at our local pregnancy center. It wasn’t the position I applied for. But apparently it’s the position God had in mind for me.

I’m not gonna lie. It isn’t easy.

“STDs”…”LMPs”…abortion risks and procedures…these are not topics in my usual dinnertime–or any time–conversation. But these words are now a regular part of my new workplace vocabulary. Women come into our center seeking free pregnancy tests, options counseling, ultrasounds.

After a client checks in and fills out the necessary paperwork, I welcome them into my upstairs office and direct them to the comfy swivel chair opposite mine. I look into their faces. I ask questions. I take notes. I listen to their story, the one that’s unfolding in real time, right in front of me.

And I silently pray.

I ask for wisdom and compassion.

I try to point them to the Source of Life. The Giver of Living Water. The Miracle Worker.

Yes, some days are discouraging. Many conversations are difficult. But I’m walking by faith and trusting that God has put me right where He wants me to be. And that He will do what only HE can do.

I sat across the table from two miracles yesterday.

You just never know when you might come face to face with a miracle in the making.

You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples. (Psalm 77:14, NIV)