There are moments in life when the universe seems to orchestrate events with such precision that coincidence feels too small a word to contain their meaning.
These moments—when seemingly random paths cross, when letters find their way into the right hands at the exact right time, when strangers become family—reveal themselves as threads in a tapestry far more intricately woven than we could have designed ourselves.
I’ve come to recognize these moments not as accidents or mere coincidences, but as glimpses of divine timing at work.
They are the whispers of a greater plan unfolding, one that often makes sense only in retrospect, when we can finally stand back far enough to see the pattern taking shape.
This is a story about just that.
May 5, 2016
On May 5, 2016, I wrote –
‘”Isaiah was not the name given to him at birth. I said it before, and I’ll say it again, God keeps on giving me signs for this child. But I was not prepared for the sign that came yesterday through coincidence, fate, and loving Isaiah.
Around 2pm, Isaiah’s social worker came to our house so that Ryan and I could sign the adoptions papers. I can’t even believe I’m writing these words, but it’s true.
Just 2 months after he came home with us, we are about ready to finalize.
The court date will be set soon, and today I get to tell you that Gotcha Day is likely to happen in June (July at the latest).
When I come to your home on Tuesday, I have a bag of stuff from Isaiah’s foster mom to give to you.
That’s what Isaiah’s social worker told me last week on the phone.
I figured his foster mom had sent along clothes and maybe a toy and/or a few pictures from his life before us.
Instead, what was delivered is something that I cannot describe in words because not even my heart has still been able to process it at all.
While we waited for Ryan to get home, I opened the bag.
Inside the bag was a scrapbook photo album filled with pictures from age 2 months to March when he came to live with us.
During Isaiah’s time with his foster mom, a couple from their church had really taken to him.
I knew about this. We knew about this. It was brought to our attention a few times, even again during the disclosure meeting.
For reasons we knew back then, the couple was not able to move forward with him, but she still created this scrapbook photo album filled with pictures of Isaiah for us.
The photos were only of Isaiah, and we kind of wondered what this couple looked like.
Both Ryan and I loved the scrapbook. I looked at it several times throughout the afternoon. I felt so grateful to this woman for taking so much time to put together something so valuable for us.
What happened next, though, changed me.
The Letter
Later that night, my mom wanted to see the scrapbook. (She is here visiting this week from Minnesota but had not seen it yet.) So, she and I sat down at our kitchen table.
We flipped open the cover, and she said, “Oh, what’s this?”
I said, “I think it’s just a thick piece of material to hold together the album cover photo.”
We looked a little closer and realized that no, in fact, in was an envelope.
I peeled the envelope off. Then, opened it up. Out popped a card, a picture, and a long letter.
“Oh my God,” I said. “Thisis the couple.”
In my head, I had envisioned an older couple, children raised and out of the house, who wanted to take Isaiah in.
But what I saw was polar opposite. The picture showed a young couple holding baby Isaiah for a family Christmas picture. Tears filled my eyes immediately, and then I started to read the words she wrote.
Her card mentioned that she had enclosed a story.
In her words,
It’s a story of our journey with him. I never had any intentions on sharing this story with anyone but felt impressed to share it with you.
The tears kept coming, and by this point, I wasn’t sure I was ready for the story, but I sat there with my mom, took a deep breath and read it.
It began, “The little boy that changed my life, the little boy that stole my heart.”
I cried while reading the entire story, and by the time I got to the end, I thought it must be over.
But then it wasn’t. She shared a Bible verse. It’s a verse I love. After my mom read it she said, “And she has no idea his name is Isaiah.”
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8,9
I didn’t even put it together because Isaiah is really all we’ve ever known him as, but again, that was not his birth name.
I Met a Woman
Yesterday, I met a woman though pictures and a story which are all too familiar, stories I could have and have in fact told.
Her heart ached when she wrote to me, my heart ached when I read her words. Our aches were for very different reasons, and yet I believe they changed both of us.
I met her yesterday, and she has no idea who I am, and that our faith in the Lord is strong and steady like the faith she and her husband carry.
On Saturday, March 5, 2016, we were waiting for our first overnight with him while she was saying her final goodbye to him.
In her words,
March 5, 2016, was the last time we saw him. His foster mom could not tell us what changes were being made in his case, bus she hinted that it may be the last time we would see him and to prepare our hearts. I held him close, I gave him lots of kisses and sang his favorite song to him one last time. My husband and I prayed with him, for God’s will to be done. I strapped him in his car seat, gave him a kiss and said, “be a good boy but come back to me…I love you.”
Simultaneously, we were praying to God let us bring him home forever.
The woman I met yesterday came through God. There is no other way to explain every little thing that transpired, the hundreds of words she wrote and how everything was a mirrored reflection of Ryan and me.
Coincidence, Fate, and Loving Isaiah
I found it so very hard to sleep last night (which I’ll totally pay for today) because my mind and heart lingered on her words and the coincidence mixed with fate of it all.
God’s plan is something so much bigger and greater than we can ever know or understand, and I know this for certain because I walked away changed for our lives with Isaiah moving forward, but so did she.
She ended her letter,
Loving him was the best thing that has ever happened to us and what led us to adoption. God’s ways are higher. His plan is perfect. My heart will safely trust in Him.
In due time, we will respond to her letter, I’ll share these words with her and I’ll make sure she knows how grateful we are for them and that she, too, will see that everything is beautiful in its time.”‘
December 3, 2016
About seven months later, on December 3, 2016, I wrote A Little Boy.
March 24, 2017
And on March 24, 2017, I wrote –
“‘It all started almost a year ago already (in May) when we received a photo album and letter from a woman I had never met, but who loved Isaiah with all her heart.
And then, the pure coincidence of running into her at the mall.
That day, I gave her my number.
On Christmas Eve, we sent Elisabeth pictures of the little stud muffin, and we kept in touch here and there via text.
Early January
And then in early January, Elisabeth came over one afternoon. She brought videos of baby Isaiah, blankets (including one for our new baby Amiya), his book, “My friend Jesus,” and other gifts.
We spent the afternoon talking, learning about each other, our history, stories, ups and downs.
I learned why meeting us at the mall that fateful day was so important to Elisabeth for this season of her life.
She shared her joy on Instagram and Facebook with friends and family.
It’s been a couple months, and yesterday we saw Elisabeth again.
Early this week we decided that we would get together again.
Instantly I thought, “….but maybe she just wants to hang out with him, with her family, so they can see what a sweet little boy he has become.” So I messaged her, asking if that might be something she’d like.
She was beyond excited, texting me immediately, “Oh Sarah, that would be great! My parents would love to see him!”
I dropped him off after his afternoon nap, and she brought him home just in time for bedtime, complete with stuffed animals (including this huge blue stuffed giraffe that Samarah just “had to” sleep with), clothes, a new bright red Nike hat, and bubbles (duh).
I put the little guy to bed, then Samarah, and then I laid there and thought about Elisabeth.
Elisabeth
It’s not by chance that we meet the people we do in our lives.
Meeting Elisabeth, even when it was just via letter almost a year ago, proved that.
When I dropped Zay off yesterday, she handed me a beautifully wrapped gift and card. Admittedly, when she dropped him off last night I had not even opened the gift yet. I did, however, read her card immediately upon leaving her house.
In the card, she thanked me profusely for allowing her to be a part of Isaiah’s life. She refers to this as a “gift,” and says she will be forever grateful.
The truth is that I don’t see it as a gift or as anything above and beyond.
Honestly? Elisabeth feels like a long-lost friend of mine and the way she carries herself (even after all she’s been through this past year) is something to be desired, something I think we could all learn from.
And she love, love, loves Isaiah.
When children are adopted through the foster care system, they typically meet many people from the point of being removed from home/birth parent(s) to ultimate adoption and forever home placement.
We are so lucky that Isaiah was placed in a foster home with love and care and that ultimately he “met” Elisabeth through his foster mom.
As a mother, it can be hard to understand how I can be so open to all these other “mother figures” from my children’s past.
For Isaiah, it will be his birth mom, foster mom, and Elisabeth. But truth be told, the world needs a whole heck of a lot more Elisabeth’s for these children.
I am Isaiah’s mama, but I would be doing my children a disservice if I didn’t allow love to enter their lives from as many people as possible.
I am going to let Elisabeth love Isaiah her whole life, and I am going to be sure to tell Isaiah as he gets older about the love she showed him. There is no doubt about any of that.
And again, nothing happens on accident.
Elisabeth is here for a very specific (and totally awesome) reason.
The Reunion: May 20, 2025
Last week, Elisabeth traveled to Minnesota to celebrate Isaiah’s 10th birthday—the first time they’d seen each other since he was two and a half.
Though we’ve stayed connected through the years, having her physically present felt like completing a circle.
During her visit, more puzzle pieces fell into place. I learned that Elisabeth hadn’t planned to visit the Tracy mall that day—her friend convinced her to go somewhere they rarely visited.
I discovered just how close she and her then-husband had been to adopting Isaiah themselves. She shared why she believes he was meant to be with us, and insights about Isaiah’s unique quirks that suddenly made perfect sense.
But what struck me most was witnessing the enduring power of love, kindness, and grace. I found myself imagining Elisabeth’s perspective—remembering what it felt like when we thought we might lose our first child, Samarah, at nine months old. The thought remains unbearable.
Yet despite her loss, Elisabeth chose love at every turn. She chose to create that photo album and write that letter. She chose to remain in Isaiah’s life even knowing it wouldn’t be permanent. Today, she chooses gratitude for what she calls “God’s unanswered prayers.”
In return, I chose to welcome her presence without fear, understanding that this story isn’t ultimately about either of us—it’s about Isaiah.
During National Foster Care Month, I think about countless children carrying black garbage bags from home to home, desperately seeking someone to love them. But not Isaiah. Isaiah has two women who love him with their whole hearts.
When Divine Timing Reveals a Perfect Plan
As I watch Isaiah and Elisabeth together, laughing and sharing stories from his baby book as though the years between their meetings were mere days, I’m reminded that sometimes the most beautiful gifts come wrapped in our deepest losses.
What appeared as broken threads in the fabric of our lives—unanswered prayers, unexpected turns, painful goodbyes—were actually essential parts of a masterpiece still in progress.
Divine timing doesn’t promise us freedom from heartache.
Rather, it offers us the assurance that our tears and triumphs alike are woven into something meaningful. It reminds us that love multiplies when we open our hearts wide enough to share it.
In a world where we’re often told to hold tight to what’s ours, Isaiah’s story teaches us a different truth: that sometimes the most generous act of love is making room for more love to enter.
Elisabeth chose to love with an open hand. I chose to receive that love with gratitude rather than fear. And Isaiah? He teaches us daily that a heart has infinite capacity when we trust the timing of its journey.
Perhaps that’s the greatest lesson in all of this—that divine timing isn’t just about when things happen, but about who we become in the process of waiting, loving, and trusting that everything beautiful truly does come in its time.
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