From the inside out… when saving babies transformed an empire, could it happen here?

The history books tell a story of Christians who valued life in ancient Rome and transformed a culture,

will they say the same of us?

First, this post is for professing Christians, for those who claim Christ as their Lord and Savior. I, like you have been appalled as I have watched the videos exposing the selling of baby parts by Planned Parenthood and the nonchalant way these little lives are spoken of. I have been convicted as I have read article after article calling us, as believers to rise up and truly be people who will be voices for the unborn, thought about calling my Senator (just being honest.. but have yet to do that, just figuring out what I want to say… you can find your senator information here), and wondered of the “how’s”. How do I engage in this cultural battle? Perhaps that is you as well.

If you are new here, let me tell you briefly my story. I have a loving husband, dog, and 2 little girls who died shortly after birth. Over the past two years I have carried to term those two precious girls, diagnosed in utero with fatal defects that 95% of women typically abort.  I chose a different way, not because of my own courage and strength but because a different way, a different worldview had been built into my heart because of what Jesus did for me on the cross. It’s a worldview that reflects the centrality of the gospel as the giving of one life so that another could live. That I die for others not the other way around. In a culture that says “it’s about me, my wants and desires”, the gospel calls us to live not for ourselves but for the sake of another. My husband and I did not walk this journey alone, we had a community of people that rallied around us and chose to live out the same worldview, to lay down their lives to lift us up and be the arms of feet of Christ in the most painful season of our lives.  And can I tell you, when people laid down their lives.. unimaginable beauty rose.

Both times, as we received the diagnosis my heart felt overwhelmed. The second time, we decided to get a 2nd opinion.  As the doctor confirmed the diagnosis, she said “Can I share with you your options?”, to which my husband said “no, thank you”. She proceeded to say “I’m concerned about your fertility future in continuing this pregnancy”.   In the midst of my own grief that we would be carrying to term another baby that would not live, I had not the words at the time but thought in my heart… “But this is what Jesus did, he laid down his life for me, so that I can live. He knew what it would cost Him and determined it was worth the cost… that my chance at life was worth laying down his life.” I simply responded “we know that it may affect the future and we will still carry our daughter to term.”   At the heart of her question was a worldview that says “Look out for what you want, it’s about you, it’s about your future.” Yet, at the heart of ours was “It’s about honoring God, it’s about obeying Him, it’s about being a picture of the gospel to the watching world, its about valuing life at the cost of my own.”

Aborting babies is not a new thing in our culture, but has been rampant in even cultures past.

“Cicero (106-43 BC), writing in the period before Christ, cited the Twelve Tables of Roman Law when he wrote, “deformed infants should be killed” (De Ligibus 3.8). Similarly, Seneca (4 BC-AD 39) wrote, “We drown children who are at birth weakly and abnormal” (De Ira 1.15). The ancient writer Plutarch (c. AD 46-120), discussing the casual acceptance of child sacrifice, mentions the Carthaginians, who, he says, “offered up their own children, and those who had no children would buy little ones from poor people and cut their throats as if they were so many lambs or young birds while the mother stood by without tear or moan” (Moralia 2.171D). Polybius (ca. 200-118 BC) blamed infanticide for the population decline in Greece (Histories 6).” – Michael Craven

The early Christians lived in a society where infanticide and even child sacrifice was legal. But Christians, transformed by the life of Christ, began to live out something different.  When the Romans left their unwanted babies in the forest, the Christians went into the forests and rescued those babies. They cared for THE people, not just THEIR people. They sacrificed their own comfort, their own security; they laid down their rights for the sake of those in need of rescue. When you see someone drowning, you don’t wait for a comfortable boat to come along and slowly row out to get them, you don’t write a blog post on how to swim, you don’t stand at the edge of the water and shout this is how you survive. You GO. You run into the water with all your might and then you swim with all your might, with no thought to anything but I must rescue this person, risking your own life so that another may live. This is the way of the cross.  This is the way of the people of the cross.

Planned Parenthood may be defunded by the government for abortions because of this, they may not.  But we will only change a culture, change a nation as the Christians did in the Roman empire if we go. Will we step outside the safety of our home, our comfort and step into the lives of those who have never seen the transforming power of Christ at work?  Will we become a safe place to catch the woman who feels she has no other option but to abort?  Do we know that woman?  Will we become a safe place for the ones who do choose abortion, to catch them in a sea of life transforming grace and love and tell them of the One who has paid the penalty for our sins so that we can know Him?  Do we know those women?  Do we live our lives in such a way that we have gone into the broken homes and places and built relationships with those that have a different worldview than our own, those that are our enemies, the very ones that we may be tempted to cry “foul” at?  Will we be a people known as the ones who adopt the countless babies and young children who are waiting in a system that consistently fails them? A people known as the ones who give of our time and finances to help the ones that will adopt these children?  Will we go beyond that and becoming a vehicle of God’s grace to the women that carry those very children we will adopt and care for them as well?  Going is saying, “I will sacrifice my time, my comfort, my money, my vacations to care for those that are in need”.  Will we be a people known for laying down our lives or taking up our lives?  Will we be a people that live out a different worldview, one based on a better more secure authority, one that says my life is not my own?  One that calls us to be different. From Genesis to Revelation He is ALWAYS calling His people to be different, not for the sake of being different but different because the Kingdom of God is different than the Kingdoms of this world.

Jesus came for those in need of a physician; he stepped into their lives with such grace, love and TRUTH that they were drawn OUT of their sin.  Do we live in such a way that people are drawn out of their sin?  One where people are so compelled by the love of Jesus that they can’t stand to live another way other than his way. Do we live that way? I fear that many of us look just like the world, myself included. We like being liked, we like our stuff, our vacations, our comfortable lives and will only get uncomfortable enough that it doesn’t cost us what we really love. Going costs us something, and we often like the idea of going but not the cost of going.  This was not the way of the believers in Rome. They sacrificed it all, they lived radically different, they took in children when they could hardly afford their own, they provided for the sick and the hurting when it cost them providing for themselves. And the Roman empire took notice…

“Julian the Apostate, the last pagan emperor of Rome, clearly understood the power of these Christians when he wrote the following: These impious Galileans (Christians) not only feed their own, but ours also; welcoming them with their agape, they attract them, as children are attracted with cakes… Whilst the pagan priests neglect the poor, the hated Galileans devote themselves to works of charity, and by a display of false compassion have established and given effect to their pernicious errors. Such practice is common among them, and causes contempt for our gods (Epistle to Pagan High Priests).

Emperor Julian clearly saw the writing on the wall. The Roman Empire would not succumb to political upheaval or force but to love, the love of Christ. Julian’s dying words in AD 363 were “vicisti Galilaee” (You Galileans [Christians] have conquered!).” –Michael Craven

They humbled themselves and called on the Lord to change them, to change their nation and he heard from heaven and HEALED their land and an entire EMPIRE was transformed from the inside out, and the way of the cross became the way of the people.   Hundreds of years from now, people will look back on our culture in shock at the barbaric ways we exterminated the lives of children under the guise of sophistication and medical progress, just as we look back at the ways of the Romans and other cultures who practiced infanticide. But, will the history books also tell of the ways the Christians rose up and lived radically different, sacrificing their own comforts for the sake of others, bringing the hope of Christ to the watching world and thus transforming a culture?   Or will the Christians in our society be indistinguishable from the rest of the world? History tells the story that those societies transformed by the gospel of Jesus Christ were also transformed in their value of human life.  Will that be our story? If our hearts as believers don’t change, if it doesn’t begin with a transformation in us that extends in the way we give of our lives for the sake of another, there will be no transformation in our culture. Laws, while good and right upholding truth, NEVER change hearts, relationships do.

Oh my brothers and sisters, let us show this country the way of the cross. Let us be the ones whose knees are worn from praying that God would heal our land,  that take in the unwanted, that care for the needy, that speak the words of Jesus in TRUTH and ACTION.  That we would truly show the world what it means that Jesus is Lord of our life, that he came to heal the broken hearted and restore the places long devastated. That He has called us to be ministers of reconciliation. Will we love and pray and move towards the very ones to whom many of us have called “barbaric”? Do you know that Jesus came for them too?  Many will hate us for living this way, but many will be drawn to the hope of Jesus Christ for they will see us living a different way, compelled by the love of Christ. And hundreds of years from now, perhaps it will be written in the history books, “There was something about Jesus in the lives of those Christians that transformed that culture and saved the lives of millions”. But let’s be honest, we’re all hoping Jesus comes back long before that!

 “For the LOVE of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer life for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised… THEREFORE, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.  The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.  All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.”  2 Corinthians 5: 14-15, 17-18 (emphasis mine)


Why I would not trade my story for another

On July 7, 2015 I was surprised at the words I found myself writing in my journal.  The past 8 months have been a season of wrestling with God in the darkness.  It is why I haven’t written much over these last several months, and yet in the darkness God has been doing a work in my heart that I have only begun to see.  He has moved my posture towards Him and shown me that even in the burning questions in my heart, He is a safe place to bring my pain, anger, sadness and grief.  I studied Job many months ago and was struck by the fact that it was out of Job’s deep lament before God that God revealed Himself to Job  in a way that he had never seen before.  I longed for that, to know God in such a profoundly deep way.  And I sense that this journey God is taking me on in teaching me to lament, in teaching me to wrestle towards Him is giving me a taste of what Job says in Job 42; “I spoke of things I did not understand, things to wonderful for me… I had heard of you by the hearing of my ears, but now my eyes have seen You; Therefore I repent.”   So, I share with you a taste of the fruit of what God is doing in my heart through this season of lament, a picture of beauty in ashes, of hope in the midst of pain, of a young momma learning to embrace the story God has given her.


If I could have more of you and lose my daughters or less of you and keep them.  If I knew the tastes of glory I would see through the short lives they would receive.  Oh, I want them back so much.  I want a different story so badly.  But, a different story would be two different little girls and less of you.  And I want the more of you part and the two little girls you gave me.  I do not wish that death invaded my life so abruptly, so painfully, but if this is the way to you, if this is the way to know, to taste your glory, your majesty, then I receive it.  With arms wide open and tears of joy mixed with pain running down my cheeks and breathes of hope mingled with often suffocating loss.  So be it.  No, not only so be it… but a resounding YES LORD.  Yes to the story you have chosen for our lives.  For my life. For Sophie’s life.  For Dasah’s life.  I do not understand it.  I do not claim to know the depth of your ways or the greatness of your love in this story but I know it is intertwined throughout.  I would not trade my story for another for in doing so I would lose so much.  Perhaps it would seem I have already lost so much.  But whatever was loss I consider as gain.  In fact, “I count all things as loss compared to the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.”   

This I know, that today, I love you more then I did two years ago.  But more than that, today your greatness, your glory, your profound worthiness of my life is both more a mystery and more clear at the same time.  Your holiness has been revealed to me in ways I never knew.  Your greatness at the cross is clearer because the reality of the tomb being empty is more profound.  Life has won.  Death is defeated.  And you Lord have become my greatest hope.  Yes.  Yes to your ways, for your ways are good and right and even in death your ways lead to life.”**

“I spoke of things I did not understand things to wonderful for me.  Although I had no right to ask, my God knelt and answered me.”  -Ghost Ship, Where were you

**I first shared this journal entry at a recent conference where my husband and I were asked to share our story.  You can watch that interview here.

Sharing our story at our Cru National Staff Conference

On July 20, 2015 Kevin and I had the honor of introducing our daughters and sharing our story with around 4,000 other Cru staff members.  It was a privilege to share a taste of what God has been doing in our lives through our daughters and I wanted to welcome you into that as well.  Enjoy!

You can read the journal entry I share here.

You can watch the full 3 minute video of Sophie and Dasah here:

When all is not as it should be

A little over a month ago I wrote this as I was processing attending the burial of a 19 year old young man, the first burial Kevin and I had been to since burying our own children… in the same cemetery.  The cemetery was a holy and sacred place that day.

Where to begin? What to say? Today I stood before the casket of a 19 year old young man and watched as his parents, brother and sisters, countless family and friends shed tears of longing, sadness and hope. We grieved and looked to the Lord for hope only He could bring.  I had only met him a few times a few years ago, but I knew his parents. And I shed tears for them, and have shed tears since because in a small way I knew the pain of sitting before the casket of your child, barely able to breathe and comprehend this moment that never would you have fathomed would be written into your story. I would not have written this moment, twice into our story and I would not have written this moment into their story.   A son, a brother, a friend should not have been buried today. Too young.  Too soon.  And yet he was.  I should not have had to bury two daughters, having only experienced their life for mere moments and yet I did.  What should not have been was, what should not be is.  And yet today, two things I recalled to mind, or perhaps better said… Jesus recalled to my mind.

His grace IS sufficient.  All I could think of as my heart filled with pain for this family was a recollection that in the darkest moments of my own experience, His grace was sufficient, is sufficient, is ENOUGH.  This free, undeserved gift of His grace.   What we get because of simply who He is, is enough.  And somehow, it has become enough for me.  A tender, merciful grace that has continued to bring freedom to my broken heart.  Freedom to bring my broken self to the foot of the cross and see the pain etched on His face meet the pain etched on my face.  Freedom to bring my broken self to the tomb, the empty tomb and see His resurrection power and hope resurrect my hope.  Freedom to bring my tears, laughter, groan, joy, heartache and experience to a Savior who meets us in the moments we are aware, brutally aware of the nothing we have to give and the everything we have to receive.  And this is where his grace meets us, where we know the beauty of his grace.  Today, I saw that beauty.  I saw it in my own life as I reflected on the moments I stood before my own daughters’ caskets and tears rolled as I watched another mother stand before her son’s casket.  And though I only know my pain and can’t begin to know her pain… the grace in that moment was a thankful heart that I could weep with this family because of the pain of this moment I had tasted as well.   Thankful that this story, I would have never written for my life, now enables me to step into the pages of another’s unwelcome chapter in their story, with greater empathy, greater grace and enter in the groan of all creation with another.

And this is the second thing He recalled to mind. That this grief, this recognizing with fists in the air that death, though a part of life, was not supposed to be a part of life is a part of the groan of all creation.  This grief, a reflection of Paul’s words in Romans 8;   “The whole earth is groaning as in the pains of childbirth… and we also, longing, waiting, anticipating, the redemption not just of our souls, but of our bodies.” No, it shouldn’t be this way.  A mother, a father, shouldn’t stand before the casket of their baby girls… twice.   A family shouldn’t sit before the casket of a brother, a son, a friend and know that this box carrying his body would be soon lowered into the ground.  From dust to dust, ashes to ashes was not what we were created for.  And yet, what shouldn’t be is.  But thanks be to God, death doesn’t have the final say, but ushers us into not what shouldn’t be, but what was always supposed to be for those who know Him.

Today I felt the groan.  I felt the groan as I watched a family say good-bye to a 19 year old young man.  And I felt the groan as my husband and I walked a short distance from his burial site to our daughter’s burial sites.  I was reminded that the breath that cries “this should not be” is the groan that points to the day when all that was meant to be, IS.  It will not always be this way.  One day, the aches of this life will give way to a glory like we have never seen.  And as we embrace the groan, and what it points to we will be in even greater awe at the redemption Jesus brings in the here and the not yet.  And as a mother sits in the euphoria of a new life in her arms, forgetting the pain that was just hers, so we will sit in the euphoria of new life restored and the groans of the life will pale in comparison to the glories that will be revealed to us.

This plot of land was sacred and holy ground today. For the same breath that accentuated the ache of our hearts, accentuated the unfathomable hope of Christ.   It shouldn’t be this way. And one day, it won’t be.

Our Happy Ending…

The wrestling of the past year has been HOPE.

Where will we place our hope?

Will we place our hope IN bringing a child home?

Or, will we hope FOR that, but not IN it?

Many, many people… family, friends and even strangers are hoping with us that God would grow our family. We are so grateful for that.  We are hoping for that too.  But God has been taking us on a journey of discovering that EVEN IF He does not grow our family here on earth… it is enough what He has done. He is ENOUGH for us. His grace has been sufficient in our lives and will continue to be.   Our gaze is being lifted to the kind of hope that doesn’t disappoint.   Jesus.   The kind of hope that Paul talks about in Romans 5 where “suffering produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope: and hope does not disappoint, BECAUSE the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”   I don’t know about you, but I want the kind of hope that doesn’t disappoint, thats rooted in something and someone one far deeper than my circumstances.  It is a hope that is anchored in the one who gives us life, who redeems us, who has poured out His love on us and in us, who is the source of living water that satisfies EVERY need… yes, EVERY longing of our heart… from the ache for our children, the ache to get to parent a child, to the simple, daily things we struggle to find life in that hold no life at all.   He satisfies us IN the longing, IN the ache not from it.   He is our thirst quencher. He is the one who can bring peace IN our pain, not from but IN.   And as we look to Jesus, he holds the keys to our happy ending. He IS the key to our happy ending, when ALL is redeemed…. ALL.   Oh, we pray that a taste, a mere glimmer of that sweet redemption would mean bringing home a healthy baby. But, if that were our goal, if that is what would produce the happiness and joy we long for than we are to be pitied for even that will hold its own set of disappointments and no doubt, still leave us only half full.   No child, no husband, no new car, fancy dress, perfect body, (the list could go on) can quench the thirst our hearts have. Only Jesus can. Nowhere in scripture does God tell us that we can find true and lasting hope in the circumstances of this life, even the good circumstances. Hope is always spoken of in connection with Him.   So yes, celebrate with us when and if the Lord continues to grow our family and then eagerly await all the more with us the day when all is made right.   Our happy ending is nestled within the here and the not yet of the Kingdom of God.   It is founded on the promise of new life that God gives to us now and will be seen in fruition when Jesus returns and restores this world, our bodies, wiping every tear from our eyes, and eradicating every ache of our heart. Perhaps better put, we should say we are living in our happy beginning, for there is no end to the Kingdom of God and His kingdom people.

He’s always whispering

They are whispers of His love.

Happening amidst the chaos of the night, amidst the moments when all I hear is my own heart shouting in protest of this pain. And until I step back, I hardly know there have been whispers at all.

Like a dark cloud with only moments of sunshine, the grief still looms large over my head.  If I keep my gaze down, I miss the sun all together.

“Look up, Fix your eyes on me. I am here. Whispering of my love to you in the dark places of your soul.” He gently calls.

They are whispers when I realize I’ve invested my life in another and found myself energized and not utterly exhausted.  A whisper of His strength flowing out of weakness.

Whispers of His promise as I picture the day I stand in a sea of people worshipping God and imagine Sophie and Dasah running up to me. Even more joy erupts, tears of knowing all has been redeemed… and hand in hand we go find their Daddy (the earthly one) and I see him see them for the first time and we look at each other, and look at our Savior peering at the sweet reunion, and we know the truth of the words…

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared

with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

Will it be like that? It will be better.

They are whispers of the promise of new bodies. The resurrection of us all… to hope, to Him.   And we get new bodies all together. We…. Kevin, Sophie, Dasah and I will all experience this newness together, for the first time.  We don’t miss all the “firsts”.

And He whispers “You’re not missing out, there’s more, so much more coming.”

They are whispers of His love that extends to others as I find myself praying. Yes, praying, talking to God beyond the ache that often leaves my voice voiceless before Him.   The few words that have formed on my lips have become a few more.

And my prayers… His prayers have begun to include others.  They are whispers that His promise to bind up the brokenhearted is happening.

The gaping wound of loss is not so gaping. The scar is beginning to form, still a scar, an ugly and yet beautiful scar that shapes who I am now and who I am becoming.  I realize it is the whisper of His beauty in the ashes.

And I notice joy. The whisper of His Joy breaking through when I find myself laughing with another, simply enjoying the richness of what life still offers.

Oh, joy is not the outward expression of life and happiness but the deep inner moving of the soul that once it is known, rooted, it comes out in life, in hope. It’s a glimmer, a boisterous glowing, picture of His joy. His delight. All is not lost.

And I wonder if He tells my girls the joy that’s being tasted and they roll in laughter too. They know what’s coming… MORE.   Much more. And their delight in Him grows each day. And He whispers to them sweet things that I long to know in the fullness they now know. What glory.

Whispers. Is He whispering of His love for you today? Amidst the chaos of the night can you hear His still small voice… like a soft quick breeze? Don’t miss it. It’s so easy to miss when we keep our heads down, when the darkness is overwhelming. Look up. He’s always whispering…

Embracing the ache

Mother’s day is over.  Just the day before I had lamented to my husband… “this is the stupidest holiday” in the midst of an emotional downward spiral where all of the sadness stirring in me just couldn’t stay well… in me.  But, as I fell asleep at the end of Mother’s Day, the day I was so anxious to have just over and done with, I found myself thankful.  Thankful for the ache in my heart that this day was stirring.  Thankful for the longing that it awakened in me on a far more consistent basis in the days and weeks leading up to it as everywhere there were reminders of this upcoming holiday and so, everywhere there were reminders of who I was missing… not that I am ever prone to forget, it’s just that the ache in my heart isn’t always bubbling at the surface in an explosive “I hate mothers day” kind of way.  I don’t hate mothers day.  I just hate that my two girls who made me a mom aren’t with me to celebrate.  And on every mothers day there will always be an ache, always a longing no matter when/if we bring home more children, always there will be two missing.  And it is this ache that will be a continual reminder that this world is not my home, eternity awaits and all has not been redeemed yet. YET.

You see when life is full of joys, everything is going my way, and all is well in the world… or should I say all is well in MY world, I can far too easily turn a deaf ear to the suffering that is always around me.  For everywhere we go we are rubbing shoulders with suffering, always there is pain present around us and if we’re honest, probably in us somewhere… regardless of whether or not we choose to see it.  And yet, in the seasons where the joy is full, I find I ever so subtly (or not so subtly) think my home is here, that I can find the life I long for…hope for… here.  I get confused in the way I think and and begin to live as though I’m a citizen of earth and not heaven.   And then when sorrow hits, when death strikes, it’s like an awakening to reality.   My mind, though it feels as though it is a far more muddled mess these days, is actually experiencing greater clarity then ever before.  I know where my home is. I know where my hope is.  It’s not just theological head knowledge that doesn’t so much seem to affect me now, but experiential heart knowledge that now matches what I’ve known to be true for so long and now affects the way I think and live and breath.  And though at times I fight it (okay, a lot of times I fight it), because I want to find my hope here… because well, I want the ache to go away NOW instead of point me to something greater.   Perhaps, I am simply experiencing a taste of what Paul means when he says in Romans 8;

“For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.  And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.” 

Yes, it is this groan that I now know.  Yes it is an ache that is internally like the pain of childbirth (that I often wish I could be so free as to allow that ache to come out in the same unashamed screams and cries as a woman in labor), and it is the ache all of creation is experiencing, the longing for the redemption of all things, the hope we are waiting for.  My ache is not just because I am missing my girls so very much, it is so much deeper.  It is an ache of the soul for all to be made right, for all to be restored, for the ache itself to never be again.  And so I am learning, ever so slowly to embrace the ache. For it is in the wrestling with this ache that my heart is more fully realizing where true joys lie.  I’m far less confused even in my confusion, my mind is clearer even when it feels all muddled inside, my hope is more fixed on Jesus and heaven because any hope I try to find here doesn’t satisfy.  In the midst of my grief nothing and no one makes sense but Jesus.   And so I know, that there is One who one day will take away all the pain for He has redeemed me for my full redemption, and not just my full redemption but the full redemption of all who know Him and Creation itself… for His great glory.  And that full redemption, is what I am waiting for, longing for, hoping for… for myself and this world that everyday reveals the groan of all of our hearts.   Come Lord Jesus. Come.  

I am a citizen of heaven and a sojourner on this earth, “always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.”*   Two little girls who made me a mommy and now live with our King in our home in heaven, have been two beautiful vessels of their Creator’s hand “to show the surpassing power that belongs to Him and not to us”**, and to clear their parents muddled minds and help us see with growing and striking clarity…

“this slight, momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:17,18

So, as Mother’s Day came to a close I found my heart at peace in the midst of my pain.   I found myself unexpectedly thankful for the deep ache that my soul felt as I fell asleep. Thankful that this ache, in the midst of all the things I am hoping for, points me to the one I am hoping IN.  


*2 Corinthians 4:10-11

** 2 Corinthians 4:7