I came across her card today as I was cleaning my dresser off. It has stayed in its envelope, hidden away in between some of my favorite books on my shelf. I pulled it out of its envelope and read it again. It didn’t hurt as bad this time. There were a few tears, and a few smiles. She has a beautiful baby boy of her own now—her grief was limited, but her grief helped me grieve. I held it close to my chest and closed my eyes, and I thought of what a testimony moms like us are to the world.
You cannot understand unless you’ve walked through it. You cannot help another unless you share your own story. And you cannot share your story if you have not fully encased it in the love of Christ.
I thought of names we had picked out for our babies, whenever we may have them. In fact, my mother-in-law had just asked me a couple of weeks ago what names we had picked out when we were pregnant with my son—he was destined to be a “III”, but Emma Grace was our choice for a girl…
I flipped the card over to the front to see the cover, and I smiled once again, closing my eyes, and tears streaming. As I’ve been making my 2016 goals and resolutions, I realized something….
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