The Baby Books We Make With Our Prayers {with printable prayers for our children}

We named her Hope and He tethered us with a name we couldn’t change.

She was birthed in Africa’s dirt and lived more life and death in her five years than some see in their thirty-five. She saw blood before it stained and talked of bodies, when breath had left them and the ground absorbed them, as casually as if it were a Sunday ceremony. The girl we’d named Hope was shackled by a story that spoke the opposite.

And He picked me, this one who’d made a habit out of fear, to mother her.

Her days wore the scars you’d expect from her history and I was called to restore them. Hugging and holding, looking directly into the eyes of the one you call Mommy, were unfamiliar to her street-wise skin. She knew how to snatch and to catch and hoard — but to receive?

She wailed when I found her, pen in hand and brand-new birthday baby doll, defaced. Her life’s inertia had never before been given pause and these new days in our home were allowing her to slow down to a new pace, where the  [continue reading over here, on Mothers of Daughters –>]

Pinterest
View All Posts

Recent Blog Posts

That Question: “What Am I Doing Wrong?”

I had to hear it through a half-dozen other mouths before I realized it’d been in my head first, and for possibly years. “What am I doing wrong?” It’s the mother whose child isn’t sleeping, and the wife who’s husband isn’t emoting, and the daughter who’s father is still in rehab and the twenty-five-year-old who is still in the same…
Continue

How Marriage is Teaching Me to Search the Whole Person

“How well do you think your husband knows you?” this new-to-me christian counselor asked me on a frigid January afternoon as I sat in her office. “Really well,” I responded without thinking. After a studied pause, she asked, “What percentage of ‘all of you’ does he know?” “Eighty percent,” I said confidently. We had known each other two and half years,…
Continue

I Will Not Defer

I was fourteen and still riding my bike to my best friend’s when I exchanged the innocence of youth for unbelief. I was out of pigtails but still had a bedtime when I siphoned myself off hope. It would be at least 15 years later before I realized what had happened to my own heart on the day my dad’s injury sidelined him…
Continue

A Time for Everything: Knowing Your Season and Sticking to It

For years, our life has been rhythmic. We pick up speed late summer and sprint through the fall until Thanksgiving. We slow our pace in December and gradually trot toward a long rest from January 1st until just around the end of March. Life gets full again in the spring, we play hard in the summer, our pulse already racing before we hit…
Continue

Finding The Hidden Ones On Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day was for hiding. Some years, it was behind my apron, fixing up a feast at home for my mother-in-law while Nate attended church. And other years it was underneath my covers, seeing this thin sheath between me and the world (which had what I wanted) as my greatest ally. Our church seemed unusually prolific, busting at the seams…
Continue