I remember sitting and dreaming about her. We were on our long-awaited getaway and I sat on our porch, stared at the ocean, and cried for three days. I could feel that I was standing on the edge of Something So Big.
And yet the baby in my dreams was tiny. And there were continents and oceans between us.
We didn’t know her name, we’d never seen her face. But I knew she was close. She was coming. And so I prayed and cried and thought about crossing the ocean to meet her.
She is home and she is mine. But some days, there are still soul oceans between us. Some days, her heart remembers Africa and the woman who gave her life. Some days, she and I can’t get through the waves to hold one another.
But this week, we brought her to the ocean, the one I begged God to shrink so I could get to my baby.
She delighted in the waves, she embraced the sand, and she sings at the ocean, just because she can.
And I can only raise my hands and whisper, “Glory” because He washed this Miracle up on my shores.
Linking up with the Parenthood today. Join us?
Dang. This is good. Love y’all.
Squee! Look at that little dimple!
It’s hard when our little transplanted flowers remember home and grieve, isn’t it? It’s a kind of hurt I never knew existed. But I’m discovering that those times are an opportunity for holding and love and healing, even as we both weep.
Blessings!
Yes.
This is an altar, built so we might all remember.
Glory.
Beautiful!
So beautiful LL.
Love love love.
Oh, wow!!! So precious!
This made me want to sit down next to you and sob in the light of God’s faithfulness. Glory. Yes! Glory.
Big sigh!
Glory indeed.