When Love Looks Like Surrender: An Adoption Story

When Anna and Matthew stepped out

to begin an adoption journey, they knew it would require faith. What they didn’t know was just how much it would ask of them—and how deeply it would change them.

“Adoption was always our original plan for growing our family,” Matthew explained. “It was our first choice because we both—separately—had convictions ever since we were children.”

They believed if God gave them biological children, they would receive that as a blessing—but they also believed adoption would be their first step in building a family.

So when the door opened to adopt a child from Bulgaria, they said yes. They packed their bags and flew across the world at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic to bring home their son, Phoenix.

Nothing could have prepared them for what happened next.

“It was not what we were prepared for.”

When Anna and Matthew met Phoenix, he was two years and eight months old and weighed just 16 pounds.

“He could barely lift his head. He couldn’t sit upright on his own,” Anna recalled. “And he was extremely malnourished. It’s not what we were prepared for.”

They brought him home to the U.S., unsure of what the future would hold. Phoenix had already been diagnosed with Down Syndrome, but another condition—discovered later—brought its own set of challenges. Within two months, he gained 10 pounds. Over the next two years, he slowly learned to walk.

“We were not really exposed to the world of special needs,” Anna said. “But looking back, God was already planting that seed in our hearts.”

“Being a parent to a child with special needs is surrender.”

It was during those early months with Phoenix that Anna and Matthew began to grasp what it meant to surrender—not just once, but daily. Anna shared—

“I think God showed us that being a parent to a child with special needs is going to be like surrendering your life over and over to caring for this child.”

They began navigating intense medical needs, trauma-related behaviors, and the ache of not knowing what the future would hold. And yet—through every setback, every breakthrough—they saw the hand of God. The slow progress became sacred ground.

“It wasn’t what we were prepared for,” Anna said. “But God met us in the unprepared places.”

But even in those early days, they were reminded that they weren’t doing it alone.

During their adoption process for Phoenix, Anna and Matthew were introduced to Lifesong through a former coworker who was also an adoptive parent. They applied for a matching grant and—with zero expectations—shared their need on social media.

To their amazement, the entire matching grant was met in less than 48 hours.

The moment marked something bigger than financial provision. It reminded Anna and Matthew that the Church—the body of Christ—was rallying around them and their son.

Anna said, “It confirmed to us that we were obeying God and that other people could be a part of our journey.”

“Would you ever adopt again?”

Six months after bringing Phoenix home—while in the thick of their hardest parenting moments—Anna turned to Matthew and asked, “Would you ever adopt again?”

Matthew’s answer: absolutely not.

But then he said, “If we did, at some theoretical point in the future, adopt again, I think it would be foolish of us not to use the experience we’ve gained with Phoenix to help another child with special needs.”

Three weeks later, while Anna was waiting to buy gas at Costco, she received a text. It was a photo of a baby and a list of medical conditions.

“This child is medically fragile,” the message said. “Would you be open to adopting him?”

Three days later, they met Judah.

“I don’t want him to die without a family.”

Judah has a severe brain injury.

He can’t swallow, sit upright, walk, or talk. He needs full-time care for every basic function of life.

“My only thought,” Anna shared, “was that he is so fragile. I just don’t want him to die without a family.”

When they brought him home, he was on more than 30 syringes a day of a dozen different medications. To this day, Anna and Matthew feed him every 55 minutes—9 to 10 times a day.

The demands were constant—but so was the grace.

As they stepped forward in obedience once again, they reached out to Lifesong to apply for an adoption matching grant.

But this time, they received unexpected news.

“Lifesong called and said, ‘We are not going to give you a matching grant this time,” Anna recalled. “Somebody actually wants to give an anonymous grant that would essentially pay for your entire adoption.”

That donor had a specific heart for children with disabilities in California. It was yet another confirmation that God was directing their steps.

“Even changing diapers is worship.”

Life with Judah is hard—but it’s also holy.

“God is in the midst of every single part of our day,” Anna said. “Even when we’re changing diapers, it is worship of God.”

Wherever they go, Judah draws people in. God has brought neighbors and door-to-door salespeople across their path and used those conversations to discuss the Gospel in ways Anna and Matthew never expected.

Matthew explains—

“My coworkers ask me, ‘Why would you choose to adopt? Why would you choose to adopt again? Why special needs?’ And I get to tell them—because of our Christian faith. This is something we feel called to do.”

“Adoption exists because God adopted us.”

Looking back, Anna and Matthew see clearly: adoption didn’t just give their children a place to belong—it transformed them too.

“Adoption exists because God adopted us into His family,” Anna said. “Our children were not meant to be without a home. In order to thrive, in order to flourish, they needed to be part of a family.”

She added, “But not only that—I feel like we’ve thrived beyond what we as parents could have imagined four years ago.

And it all started with one simple, surrendered yes.


Give to help bring children home.

100% of your gift to Lifesong directly helps children in need. TMG Foundation and key partners cover our fundraising and administrative costs, so your entire gift goes where you want it to go.