The grocery store was an unlikely place for Susan to retreat, especially this early, but she felt she had to get out of the house. Her mother and father were over for breakfast and they planned to help Jimmy decorate, something she had put off. She felt the expectation as heavy in the air as the pine-tree scent of the candles her mother had brought as a gift. She loved her mom and dad, but she needed to be alone and where better but the crowd of humanity out early morning grocery shopping this close to Christmas.

The store was decked with wreaths and there was a strong aroma of cinnamon and pumpkin spice as she walked inside. Cashiers wore Santa hats and everything was “ho ho ho” and “holly jolly” and “the most wonderful time of the year.” There weren’t as many shoppers as she expected, but the ones there scrambled for holiday turkeys and hams on sale.

She found a bouquet of white peonies at the front and thought they would look nice on the table. She pushed the small cart through the aisles, picking up items and putting them back, walking in a fog of expectation. There was really nothing here she needed other than the space to process her feelings.

It had been a week since Susan had heard from the adoption agency. The last word from the birth mother had been that she was close to delivering. There was even talk of inducing her if things went much further, and that made Susan wonder if the young woman had changed her mind. How could she not have second thoughts after carrying a child for nine months? Susan had done that twice. She knew how close to Michael and John she’d felt when they were born. They were part of her, like delivering half of her own heart. How would this young mom find the courage to let go?

It was in these moments of doubt that Susan tried to hang on to hope. Jimmy had it. But the feeling of loss and pain and what she might do if it came again overwhelmed her. The rug beneath her hopes had been pulled time after time. Why would this be any different?

She looked up and realized she was in the baby food aisle. The young woman’s voice echoed somewhere in her heart.

“I want you to be the mother.”

Was that a promise? Was it just something spoken wishfully?

Susan closed her eyes. Father, I can’t do this on my own. I don’t have the strength to go through another loss like this. But I choose to trust You. I can live in fear of what might happen or believe that You’re working all things together for my good.