During infertility, five years to be exact and ten years of marriage without children, I had given up hope of ever having a child to call my own. I could have never dreamed I would one day:
- take this picture above -- with three little miracles in my arms.
- Have a child who looks like me. (And yes, I am talking about Isaac, my adopted son. My two biological children are definitely their father!)
- have enough pink in my life for it to have its own load.
- Celebrate my fourth Easter as a mom.
- see my little Elijah peeing on a tree in the side yard. Actually it was three trees. He stopped and peed on each one. ("They all needed my nitrogen Mom!")
- fall into the toilet so many times, forgetting that there were two little boys to add to the toilet seat battle.
I pray that wherever you are on your journey of barrenness, whether it be of womb, of spirit, or of heart, you remember that while our stories are different, our God is the same. He is real. He died for you. He rose again. And He has the end of your story already written. Don't lose heart. I can't tell you how your story will end. I still don't know how my story will end. But I know how the greatest story ever ends. And one day we will all be celebrating his resurrection together. Forever.
Happy Easter everyone! He is risen!
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