Loving My Children

“Tell me a story, Mommy. Out of your mouth.” I learned at a very young age that the best stories were the true ones. The too-good-to-be-true ones. The too-crazy-to-be-true ones. I especially loved to hear about when my mom was a little girl like me, something proven by old photos that nevertheless confounded me. The idea of it seemed nearly impossible but simply wonderful at the same time. A pivotal point in my own story was when I crossed the threshold of faith and believed that the story of the Bible was true. The intersection of God’s love and glorious plan of redemption through Jesus Christ with my life was too wonderful for me to comprehend. Could it really be that the God who made the universe would humble himself, take on human flesh, and die on the cross for my sins? My heart burst with joy and my eyes overflowed with tears at this over-the-top, too-good-to-be-true story. That story changed everything for me. My life is now one continuous stream of stories that

Don’t think that because you’re going through something hard, God doesn’t see—or doesn’t care. In case you need some proof, look at this collection of birthday cards. Two years ago, I was practicing social distancing, but not because of a virus. Just as I was beginning to adjust and rejoice in my unexpected pregnancy, I found out that my baby had a 50% chance of survival. Then, on the Thursday before Easter, an ultrasound confirmed our loss. There was no heartbeat. On Good Friday, I carried death inside my body, and that realization brought fresh appreciation and meaning to the truth that God watched his own Son, Jesus, suffer and die on a cross for my sins. That Friday was also my birthday, the day I had planned to surprise my family and friends with the news of our baby’s life. Instead I stayed home, distancing myself from those I loved. But God surprised me. Unknown to me, a dear friend who had no idea about my pregnancy had sent out a broad request to friends and fam