Three

I can still taste the longing.

The want tinged with bitterness.

The betrayal every. single. month.

I can still feel the peace.

The reluctant letting go.

The opening of my hands.

I can still remember the refusal to admit it.

The terror/awe/fear/delight.

The sheer joy.

And here she is, now, today. Three years old. Every inch of her a miracle-- just like every other child who has ever been conceived, no matter the circumstances.

But this miracle? This one is ours. This one was gifted to our family even after words failed and hearts were made whole again.

This one sits at my table and sings "Amazing Grace." This one is the pickiest dresser ever. This one dances all day, every day.

This one is Seven, and it's her birthday. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for bringing her to us. And thank you to every loyal reader who remembers the days of brokenness and prayer and who walked alongside me. Celebrate with us!