This weekend my in-laws came in town and gave me and the hubs TWO date nights. Friday night we saw Billy Elliot the musical, which was beautiful. I watched a 12 year old do like 15 pirouettes in a row. That is not easy stuff, folks.
Saturday night, we went out for dinner and had such a good heart talk. We talked about the present, and the future, hopes, dreams, and fears.
At one point I was sharing about the heaviness I had in my heart for multiple friends of mine struggling with infertility. The injustices of our broken world just really gets me riled up. I find my heart asking "why" often. Yet, I have no other choice but to believe in Love, to believe that miracles are for today. In the quiet moments, I catch myself praying for miracles, not in words or even thoughts, but deep heart-aches.
I was telling James how brutal it must be to be struggling with infertility, how I just couldn't imagine life without our Adoration Joy. James said to me, "you are thankful for that little girl?"
"Yes. I am so thankful. She is such a blessing. It overflows...I am thankful every.....
(how do I even express the depth of gratitude I feel for this beautiful little person? to be entrusted with this holy task of loving her all my life?)
and then, I started crying, right there in the restaurant.
"........every time I look at her. I am thankful every time I look at her. "
Some times God can seem so far off but I know He is real.
And sometimes I have trouble believing in miracles, but they are real too.
I often look at my daughter and think, "where did you even come from?" My heart knows the answer. She is my miracle. Living and breathing and beautiful.
Sometimes I have trouble believing in miracles. Then I look my daughter, my living proof, and I believe. I gather up all my ragged, scraps of faith and I pray for other little miracles yet to be conceived.
* to my struggling friends. I love you and I pray for you with heartaches and late nights.