How she must have felt.

As I prepare to hand my son back into the arms of his mother, I am reminded that I am quite literally handing him back into the hands of God. That God is the Author of his story, the Choreographer of our dance and the Composer of my Baby Moses’ life song. I am reminded of His promises to prosper us, even in the midst of suffering, and He is to be our Comfort. And from this comfort, we will be able to comfort others.

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the sideline

I could sit on the sidelines. Oh! The view from the sidelines – imagine how easy I find it to…

The power of a tee shirt…

Here it is – the T-shirt that symbolizes restored brokenness and the tender process of knitting together that which is…

We need you.

I just got a text. Sibling group of three….know anyone that would take all three? My heart sank. Five years…

Back to our Roots

In recent months, I felt us being moved in a big way to steer Miriam’s Heart back to our roots.…

What I wanted

I wanted it to be special. I wanted the Hallmark-card-commercial kind of a day that would be epically memorable for…

He still waits.

hey’re not just sad faces on a commercial about the world’s hurting children, or statistics in a brochure, or part of a donation appeal video shared on social media. They are as real as the children you hugged and kissed goodnight who now lay sleeping in their beds. Except the ones I can’t stop thinking about are tied to the posts of the cribs with wooden boards they lay on with simply a blanket to comfort them. And they didn’t get a bedtime snack, or a goodnight kiss…sigh…this isn’t a guilt trip….hang with me…