a joyful affliction

This is Part 4 of a four-part series. Click to read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3. From the time I trusted in Jesus, about age 24, I had a nagging feeling that I would die at age 40. That’s morbid, I know. I never lived in fear under it, rather in a spirit... Continue Reading →

fruit for the sowing (a poem)

So many voices each offering advice: What they think is right, wise, perhaps holy. The heart hitches on some and lets others wisp by, all the while praying for something solid. Something sure and trustworthy a route, though it leave callouses on my heart, that will bear fruit for the sowing. Because his eager mind... Continue Reading →

the hardest thing we’ve ever done

"After a long goodbye at the agency, we kissed his sweet cheeks one final time, and drove home. In all our life, this remains the hardest thing we’ve ever done. We loved him in a way that we didn’t even know existed. In our hearts, he will always be our son." #AlwaysAnchored #adoption #adoptionloss

waiting well

"God’s best gifts to us make us look to Jesus—and make us look more like Him—after we receive them." #AlwaysAnchored #adoption

Will He really do it?

"I confessed this to the Lord and jotted a quick prayer to end my journaling: 'Lord, root self-sufficiency out of my heart!' Now, honesty requires me to admit that I don’t think I believed God would actually do it. And if He did, how hard could that be, really?" #AlwaysAnchored

musings of a new mama

"I want to remember His powerful acts, and our son is a living, breathing, beautiful reminder of them. God knows that my heart is prone to wander, bent towards forgetting how He acted and sliding my own self-sufficiency into places reserved for God alone. He gave me a tangible reminder. This is one of my favorite things about adoption; I can't say I did anything to become our boy's mama."

memorial stones

In the Old Testament, after a significant event in which God's hand (and sometimes his voice) was evident, we see people erecting a memorial stone to mark the spot. Over the years, I've had friends who did something similar; perhaps they marked the birth of a new baby or an unexpected miscarriage with a piece... Continue Reading →

the lesson of the trees

It is April in Georgia, but it feels suspiciously like autumn in the Midwest. The grey, wet clouds have given way to droplets sliding down the floor-to-ceiling windows that surround our dining room. With breakfast spread on the table, our newborn son sleeping at the other end of the house, I note the weather: high... Continue Reading →

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