Beautiful By Design

I was raised by two wonderful caring parents in a Christian home. We went to church each Sunday and we prayed daily. We were creating a relationship with Jesus that our parents prayed for us to carry into adulthood. I think that all of my siblings would say that they still carry this core belief with them. I am proud of my faith and my relationship with Jesus. But nothing that human beings touch can remain unsullied. Religion more so than most other things.

Looking back on my adolescence I noticed a trend in the church. From as young as 12 years old I was told I needed to cover up, show less skin, stop being a stumbling block for the men in my life. I was a rule follower, a goody two shoes, and I genuinely didn’t want to do anything that would “cause someone else to sin.” I carried guilt around with me for every pair of shorts or tank top I wore.

One particular instance stands out in my mind. We had visitors to our youth group. I was 13 at the time. It was a Miss (insert state here) title holder and her husband. They came to speak to us about modesty. I sat and listened as this beautiful woman spoke to us about how it was our job to guard the hearts of our brothers in Christ. At one point she looked around the room at all of us in the 90 degree heat and said

“and no man is immune. Honey, what’s the first thing you think when you see a girl walking around in a spaghetti strap tank top?”

He responded

“Where are the scissors”

This adult man, in a room full of teenaged girls, who blatantly and without pause reinforced the harmful message I had been hearing. Men can’t help themselves and it's our fault if we’re lusted after. No mention of how backward it was that seeing young girls in tank tops in the middle of summer was fodder enough for him to want to disrobe them in public.

And it went on this way through high school.

My skirts were too short, “I’ve never seen you looking so slutty” (A boy in my youth group about my kaki skort)

My bathing suits showed too much, “Maybe you should put a tee-shirt on over that” (about my one piece swim suit at the pool),

My shirt was cut too low. “Would you have passed your license test if you didn’t flash that cleavage?” (A man in leadership at church at the time, side note: I still don’t have even have cleavage now and I certainly didn’t at 15.)

I don’t tell these stories to point fingers. I tell them to shine light on a problem that has existed for decades. If I could show you a picture of what I looked like in these years you would see that I was nothing more than a child by all appearances. But already I was being treated as a stumbling block.

Mind you, these messages did not come from my parents, but from well meaning adults in the church. And they were well meaning, after all they were raised hearing it too.

After awhile I got so nervous about what I should and shouldn’t be wearing I stuck to the basics. I was so tired of having adult women suggest that I was an issue for their husbands, or adult men suggesting that I was a distraction for the boys; that I went with tee-shirts from my gymnastics meets and missions trips and jeans or capri pants.

As I got older I started to resent this mentality. Did God design me or didn’t he? Was I also “fearfully and wonderfully made” or was that just the men. Did God look and me and see something beautiful? Or was he ashamed of me too.

I went off to college and with it came new friends and new experiences. I joined the Christian fellowship there and was again faced with another set of rules and regulations. Men and women shouldn’t hug from the front, women shouldn’t be in the primary leadership position, etc. I had started branching out my wardrobe again with my new found freedom but I was met with the same concerns, this time from the “men” in my bible studies.

I studied and I read and it all started to feel even more backward. Jesus didn’t do this. Jesus didn’t walk around accusing people of causing others to sin. Jesus held people accountable for their own actions. The primary source of Jesus’s anger were the pharisees in the church who thought they could tell everyone else how to live.

It all came to a head for me when my sister (who’s permission I have to share this) was leading worship. I was home from college and I teared up watching her sing praises. I was so proud. Shortly afterward she was approached by a woman who told her she should not be leading worship. She was a distraction to the men up there “Bouncing her chest around”

“If I was distracted I know they were”

My sister was in a cardigan and a tee-shirt. I remember her tears. And when the questions about her beauty and worth started to pour out I felt the first true righteous indignation well up inside me.

Just like that a switch flipped in my head. It was no longer acceptable for me or the women in my life to be blamed for the thoughts and actions of the men around us. I was furious in a way I had never been before. How dare this woman take away my sisters right to stand at the front of the church and worship. How dare she make her an object of lust instead of an impetus for praise. No. I was not going to stand silently by and accept this broken mentality any longer.

Even though I knew something had to change it was so hard to quiet that voice in my head that for so long had told me to do nothing more then blend in." Anything else is immodest. Anything else is vanity." I talked with God and journaled and prayed. I read about Jesus interaction with the women he encountered. I studied the lineages and realized how often God used women even though at the time they were essentially property. I read the creation story and thought about the beauty in the world and the painstaking design with which our forms were sculpted. I started to realize how much it must hurt God to see us treat one of his favorite designs, the one he finished off creation with, treated this way.

It took having daughters of my own to start putting a public voice to these thoughts. I knew that I never wanted my girls to feel the way I felt. I never wanted them to stand in the shadows because their literal existence might be too much for someone else to handle. I never wanted them to hold the blame for someone else’s bad behavior. I began having conversations with other women raised in the church and the stories they told were the same. Some much more painful then mine. Beautiful woman after beautiful woman ashamed, embarrassed, and now angry at this burden we’ve been carrying for so long that is not ours to bear.

And back to the question, did God design us or didn’t he? Did he give us curves and soft skin or is the fact that we turned out this way a mystery to him? Either he did and we need to stop acting like he made a mistake, or he didn’t and then the basis for everything else in our faith crumbles. You can't really have it both ways.

I believe he designed each and every one of us the way he intended and the idea that so many of us spend our lives hiding probably breaks his heart. I’m hoping we don’t have to wait to get to heaven to realize “Oh...we were doing it wrong.” The focus of the gospel has never been “change and then enter” it is “Come as you are” and somewhere along the way we added a whole bunch of additional rules that just aren’t part of it. Rules that isolate and divide and accuse. I have been so blessed to make a career in music and it has caused me to cross paths with every variety of beautiful person imaginable. I am so grateful to those who understood this before I did and gave me courage to tell my story. We are ALL fearfully and WONDERFULLY made and I won't be hiding any more.

Here's the Video for my single "Beautiful By Design"

I'll Stand By You: Thoughts for my Julie Girl

Foster care and adoption are hard. Anyone who says differently hasn't had the pleasure and pain that is taking someone else's child into your home and making them their own. While there are certainly happy and wonderful moments, there are also many pushed to the limit, had it up to here, beyond exhausted moments.

I fell head over Mommy heels in love with Julie and Ant the first time I ever met them. Ant with his chubby little face and Jules with her insatiable need for cuddles and affection. They were mine. But they weren't.
They had a history that I was not a part of, a history that had caused deep wounds. And while I was expecting those wounds to be there, I had no idea the true impact they would have on these little ones not even day to day, but minute to minute.

Ant is very young and his wounds will heal. I have seen evidence of it already as his confidence grows. He isn't worried when I leave. He knows I'll be back. He reaches for me when he is hurt and a kiss can make it better. His wounds haven't had a chance to take root. While I know that there will be struggles down the road he has already decided that I'm Mommy and that works for him. As with most injuries, the younger you are the smaller the scar. Our bodies and minds both bounce back quickly at 2 years old.

Julie however, bears wounds that reopen on a daily basis. She is only four but the heft of what she has seen and been through weigh on her and effect her emotions, actions, and very being. She has been let down and disappointed more times in her short four years than many people are in their entire lives. When I leave she asks, "Mommy are you coming back?" not wondering when I'll return, but if.

She has both abandonment fears and attachment issues and her need to control her environment is so great that there are times she chooses to act out in extreme behaviors rather than have something change in even a minimal way. There are so many parts of her past and present that are confusing and messy and not only doesn't she have the words to express it, she doesn't even understand it.

I remind her countless times a day that she is loved, that she is wanted, that we are so happy she is around I hug her and remind her that she will be with us forever. The problem is that she's heard those words many times before and still come up empty. I want her to believe me. I want her to understand that I really and truly will be there for here forever. I want so badly to fix her. I want to take away the pain that passes in her eyes and the fear I hear in her voice. But the hard and stone reality is that the only thing that will change anything for this little girl are prayer, and time.

So I will give her both.

I will live each day knowing that it is probably going to be tough. There will be tantrums and out of control seemingly irrational behavior. I will sit beside her as she sobs and I will show her that she wont lose me. I will hold her in the middle of the night when she doesn't even know why she's terrified. I will teach her that while behaviors have real consequences, there is always forgiveness. I will tell her and show her every day that I love her until she is sick of hearing it. We will sing and snuggle and pray and laugh and some day by God's grace she will realize that she is cherished and loved and wanted, forever.

And when as she grows these messy emotions sneak back up on her time and again I will be there to remind her always who she is, my daughter yes. Even more importantly a daughter of Christ.
She doesn't know yet how much she and Ant have changed my life. All of the things that they have already taught me can not be counted. These words are promises she can't currently trust but someday I hope she will read them and remember.

Each night I sing I'll stand by you as they go to bed and it will be my solemn promise. I'll Stand by You. No matter what. I'm not going anywhere.

We Fit! (Or How God Got us a Van)

I have been witness to many wonderful miracles in my life. I've seen people healed in amazing ways, I've seen homes provided when it seemed there was none, I've seen broken relationships restored. Yet and still as I mentioned in a previous post, I was having a hard time believing that God could come through and provide a car for us so that we could bring home "lady" and "little man." But I picked up my little mustard seed and we continued to walk forward hoping for more than we could ask or imagine and God truly delivered.
Three weeks ago we were pretty stuck. We knew that we didn't have the money for a new car, or another car payment. We knew that cars typically don't just pop up out of nowhere. We knew that we couldn't bring the kids into our home without a car that could seat everyone safely. We had several members of our church who stepped up and put the word out about what we were trying to do and everyone hoped with us and everyone prayed. We have been completely blessed beyond measure by the support our friends, and family, and even occasional strangers have given us.
That being said even with a huge outpouring of support we had raised about 690 dollars. Then two weeks ago I was told that the parents of one of my students was selling a 2004 Ford Explorer that seats seven. I decided to give her a call and she forwarded me the information. They were selling the car for 9000 dollars but would be willing to pass it to us for 8000. It was a really great deal. All of the things we had prayed for. A reliable car, 10 years old or less, less than 90,000 miles, it even has the four wheel drive. The only problem was that even though it was a great car and a great deal...
we still didn't have 8000 dollars.
I spoke with (We'll call her Darlene. She wants all of this to be as anonymous as possible.) on the phone again and asked if she would be willing to set up a payment plan with us. I briefly explained the situation and why we would be unable to get a loan at this time. She offered to talk it over with her husband and get back to me. When she did she told me that he was uncomfortable with that arrangement. I understood completely. There is a LOT of risk getting into and type of lender situation. Not to mention insurance issues and so on. I decided that this must not have been the car God had in mind and continued looking.
The next night I was sitting in my room when my phone rang again. It was Darlene.
"Hey Christy." She said "My husband and I talked it over and we were just wondering how much you have raised so far?"
I told her about the fundly site and that we had raised 690 dollars. "That could be our down payment." I said.

She paused for a minute and then said "You know what, you can have it for that."

I honestly didn't even register what she was saying at first. I thought maybe she was agreeing to a payment plan and I had to ask her to repeat herself.

"You can have it." She said again. "We want to give it to you. Us doing this is nothing compared to what you need it for. I don't want it to be weird or awkward and once you have it I don't want you to feel like you ever have to mention it again. We want to do this."

I was so speechless. I think I mumbled a thank you and an I don't even know what to say. We made arrangements to meet up and sign paperwork and then that was that.

I am a crier by nature. It doesn't take much to make me well up but in this situation I was beyond tears to the point of stunned giddy giggles. Had we just been given a car for 690 dollars? I was so stuck in my "little faith" that I couldn't even write a praise report until all of the papers were signed.
I have this whole time with my mouth said "God can do this. God will do this." and yet obviously by my complete confusion and wonder at the reality wasn't really taking those words to heart. My God is so big, he can heal the sick, he can provide shelter for the homeless, he can repair broken relationships and even so he cares in all of that about a car. He cares among a billion people about these two little lost children who honestly have had more backs turned on them and homes ripped out from under them than any two and four year old ever should. Or any person for that matter. He is their Daddy eternally and he has given them a car which means so much more then a car. It means a home that will always be open to them. A door that wont be shut behind them. I am praising him in a monumentally huge way because he is so big and yet cares so deeply for those so small. I can't wait until the day that these two can understand the miracle of the van and what it means for them.

When we started on this journey only three short months ago we prayed and decided that we would just keep walking forward unless God shut the door. This feels like he has unlocked and blown open a whole hallway of doors and we are happy to go through knowing full well that he has the plans in hand.
The trials are far from over. We know that foster care his many trips and falls along the way and that it's easy to get tied up in red tape and court dates, and appeals. We even know that while we love these two little ones already God may still have a different plan for their family than for them to stay with us. As heartbreaking as it would be on our end He could work wonders in the lives of their parents and reunite this family. What an amazing miracle that would be to witness! I don't know what the next year, months, or even tomorrow will bring but even with so many unknowns we can walk with certainty knowing that our God is with us. Who can be against us?

A mini van as a part of God's plan

Sometimes God just needs a little bit of faith and a willingness to move forward. With that he can do greater things than we could dare to ask or imagine. My family and I are currently engaged in an act of faith that is testing on may levels.
Around Christmas time our family became aware of two little ones who need a home. Since then we have been doing all that we can to become that safe and stable home and family. However, the biggest test of faith has not come from the mountains of paper work, the emotional stress, or the steady ever presence of a foster care agency in our lives and home. We trust him with our family and our future and we know we aren't walking this alone. Nor is it in that God loves these two kids more than we ever will and has a loving plan for their lives. No. We know our God is in this and we trust him with those big things. The real issue of faith has come in our search for a mini van.
Back in August my husband Robin and I purchased a new car with financing. We have been married five years and in that five years have had five cars come and go. We decided that it was time to buy something that would last us for many years and wouldn't cost us more to maintain than the car itself. We started as a lease back in 2011 and switched to a purchase plan in August of this past year. All things considered we were very happy with this decision and it's been a great car thus far.
Then December came and all of a sudden we were faced with a big need. Two kids without a home. They have been temporarily placed with a wonderful family in our church but are awaiting a permanent place to stay. We prayed and talked and considered and came to the conclusion that God wanted us to move on this. To walk forward and that he would be with us through the journey wherever that journey may lead. We began taking the necessary classes and assembling the paperwork needed to become certified foster parents. We've painted, built walls, and prepped rooms as we get our home ready for two new arrivals. We have been moving forward in almost every conceivable way except...
The car.
The great car that we purchased not six months ago is now not a viable option. It's too small.
Now we are weeks away from the end of our certification courses and the chance to bring these kids home but this stumbling block still stands in our way.
We have had a friend offer to let us use their van in the meantime but very shortly after their offer the van met its end. I have been trolling craigslist and speaking with dealerships hoping that someone will be willing to work with us but nothing yet. Who wants to give new financing to a person who literally just bought their car and is not even close to paying it off yet?
I have started to feel discouraged and decided to do a widespread post to ask for prayer. That is when I realized where my heart was.
A few friends suggested fund raising and so I decided that was the way to go. I spoke with a friend who has done this sort of support raising before and she asked,
"Well what are you looking for?"
I told her we needed a van big enough to transport four kids. I said, "I would like it to be a reliable newer car since we just put money into a reliable car but you know...If it's something that lasts us a year or two we will go from there."
Her response was, "Why would you put a limit like that on God?"
I was a little bit confused. I didn't feel like I was limiting God. I felt like I was asking for something reasonable that would be sufficient for the time being.
"What do you mean?" I asked
"I mean that the my God made the heavens and the earth. He created and formed you AND these two kids so you think it's unreasonable to ask him to help you complete his work in a van that wont break down every week? I don't think that's too hard for him at all."
I mulled this over a bit. I mean, she was right. Maybe God would place us in a "time being" car and that would be great. But why would I set limitations on the God who created this situation and is bringing it all about to his glory?
She asked me again "What are you looking for?"
I thought about it and responded, "A reliable van that will last us at least five years...and maybe has four wheel drive so we can get up the back driveway and down without getting stuck."
"Ok" She said "That's what I'm praying for and that's what God can do."
That conversation is why we began our fund raising site and why we have set the goal where we have. Maybe we wont reach it and maybe God has something else in mind entirely but I don't think I need to put my ideas and limitations of what I think God can do on my limitless and all powerful God.
The response has been tremendous. People from all over are praying for us and sharing our story. We have now started a fund raising site to help bring money in and hopefully bring these kids home soon. I'll include the link on this page as well as add a button to the blog site page. Thank you for your shares and prayers. It's amazing to know so many voices are being lifted up on our behalf.

To make a donation or support our fundraising site click
Here

Snowed in (side)

We have had (dare I say it?) too many snow days! The snow is heavy and wet. The air is bitter and cold.

The kids only last for a few minutes before coming in soaked and frozen only to ask "What can we do now?" Today I decided to break the cycle by bringing the snow inside!

We started by mixing water and food coloring. They chose purple and pink because it is almost Valentine's day

Then we used paintbrushes to add the colors to the snow.

The kids started making shapes out of the snow and so we decided to take out the cookie cutters and make snow cookies.

Ellie found my silicone cupcake holders and snow cupcakes were created.

We had a great time and it gave us an hour of giggling, enjoyment, inagination, and fun. Much better than whining and bordom. Maybe not a long or insightful blog post but with at least two more snow days in sight I hope it saves a few more Mom's from mornings of "What do we do now?"

Happy snow days!

King of the Sliding Board

I have always been a push over, a door mat, pretty much anything you can take advantage of that's me. I am a bend over backward not to offend bite my tongue give up the last cookie kind of person with a serious helper complex. So it came as a bit of a surprise to me that upon having my first child I became a fighter. I knew the moment that I saw him that if anyone ever did something that hurt him or even so much as made him cry they would have me to answer to. All 5 foot 3 inches of raging mom.

I still remember him turning to me almost immediately when as a toddler someone else took his toy away.
"Mommy get it back!" His eyes would plead.
I know the compulsion to yank it back out of that "selfish" child's greedy paw and hand it to my sweet little innocent.
"We need to share, Beanie was playing with it" I would say handing it back and thinking that I was helping to win the battle.
 All the while not realizing what I was doing. I would swoop in as he wobbled a bit climbing a slide that was barely two feet off the ground.
"What would have happened if I wasn't there?" I would think internally patting my super mom self on the back. That's right no one will hurt him, not even him, not if I have anything to say about it.

But as he grew a bit it became apparent that I often don't have anything to say about it. I can't always make a diving catch and save him from a bumped head. I can't always step in and defend him from the myriad of non sharers and pushers that are other Mom's sweet little innocents.
What could I do? I was stressed, I was worried, I was waiting for the something that I just knew would inevitably happen. I started to pray fervently for courage and wisdom and to seek out other Mom's who had been around the block one or two (or three or four) times.

One conversation in particular sticks out in my mind as I stood on the playground with a seasoned mother of three. Her daughter began to climb the ladder to the monkey bars which were probably double her height. Her mother watched nonchalantly as I cringed fighting back the urge to jump after her as she took the leap and grabbed the bar.
"What if she had fallen!" I asked wondering how she could stay so calm and cool.
"What if she had?" She asked me "She would've gotten back up and tried again. She has fallen, many times. That's how she knows she can do it."

I was stunned silent and remember mulling this over. It almost seemed like she was telling me we SHOULD let our kids get hurt! I went home and did some soul searching and happened upon a blog post called Please Don't help My Kids by Kate Bassford Baker. It was about the struggle and responsibility that we have as parents to let our children make their own mistakes and discover their own strengths. It spoke to me in so many ways. As a Mom I say and truly believe that I am proud of my kids and that they can do anything they put their minds to. I know that they are individuals and that they need room to grow. So why would I stifle that? If I don't let them fail am I really teaching them anything at all? Will they ever achieve anything I know that they are capable of if they are too afraid they might get a few scrapes along the way? And how can they become functioning members of society if every time there is a small conflict I step in and create the resolution? I don't think that there are too many work places where they respond well to "I'm calling my Mommy."

That day I decided that I would take a step back. I started encouraging my son to say "No thank you" when someone did something he didn't like. To use his words and say "I'm using this toy" when he didn't want someone else to take it. Words are powerful when you use them confidently. When my daughter came along I was much more willing to let her try the ladders and the bridges and the slides. Did she get hurt a few times? Yes of course but she got kisses and got back up. She got braver as well.

By God's grace I felt like I was truly getting a handle on this "let them handle it" thing then this past weekend we came across an actual grumpy, cocky, I'm bigger so I'm better, bully on the playground. I was down below where Bean couldn't see me when he got to the slide.
"Excuse me can I go past and go to the slide?" I heard him ask.

"No." The older child responded "I am the king of the sliding board and I don't let any little kids go down."

I wanted to yell up "It's not your slide! Who do you think you are? If you aren't going to share then you get off the playground!" But I bit my tongue. I didn't do anything. I held my breath and I waited. I watched as my son barely skipping a beat said,

"Okay well if you were really the King you would let me slide down because real Kings want what's best for all the people."
"Well I'm a bad king. I like to sit here and make no one slide. You can try to climb over me but I'll push you down. What are you going to do?"

(At this point I wanted to push him down the slide but still I held my tongue.)

"I don't want to do that" Bean said looking like he might walk away. "Well, if you're a bad King" he then said thoughtfully "You would want to slide down yourself because Bad guys always do the fun stuff themselves."
The boy thought about it for a second and then turned around and slid down.
Bean said "Okay great! Now it's my turn." and slid down after him.

I was already feeling proud as a peacock but as they got back to the top my daughter Belle (who is two years old) was coming to the top of the slide. The bully started to push his way in front of her and regain his place as king of the slide when Bean stood in front of him.
"Hey" He said looking the kid right in the face "That's actually my baby sister. You can block the way from me and that's okay but she is just a baby and you need to let her through."
To my absolute amazement he stepped aside and let Belle slide down. Then he said
"Hey what's your name? Do you want to play tag?"
and off they went all conflict forgotten as I stood there beaming and close to tears.
Why does it matter? It's just a playground, it's just a slide. I could have stepped in and the conflict would have ended more quickly but as it stands I saw my son for who he can really be if I am willing to let him.
He is a small almost four year old boy, shorter than almost all of his friends, but he exhibited strength that I still don't know if I've got. He not only stood up to a bully, but made a new friend in the process. I know that not all conflicts will resolve so easily. I know that there will be times when he needs the help of a grown up and I will be happy to step in. But I now know to wait to swoop in until I am truly needed.
As we left the playground I told him I saw what he had done and that I was proud of him. He just smiled, "I used my words just like you said!"
As he said "Real kings want what's best for all the people." This is what we can create when we take a step back. We can give our kids a chance to implement what we truly want to teach them. Those lessons that we work daily to instill mean so much more if we let our children show us that they actually work. I am a proud yet sheepish Mommy as I write this today. Without advice and prayers I would never have even written this blog. It probably would've been titled "Keeping your kids safe: How small of a plastic bubble is too small?" I am proud to be part of the many who walk daily through this battle we call parenthood and I was thrilled to leave the playground holding the hand of the real king of the sliding board.

A Little of My Heart

Beanie and Belle,

Who are you? You are created for a purpose. You are made with a unique and blessed design. You are chosen by God, a plan has been laid out for you. You are special.
Belle, You are not special because you are beautiful, although some days I am blown away by your precious face.
You are special Beanie, You are not special because you are smart, although there are times that I am left speechless by your witty retorts.
The two of you are special because of the impact your path will have on the world. The mark you will make on the lives you touch as you grow will change history. You are special simply because you were created.

You do not have to be famous to make a mark. You do not have to perform outrageous stunts in front of millions to prove your worth. You do not and never will have to earn my love or anyone else's by any means but by being you.

I am sorry for the way the world is today. I wish that my apologies could make a change. That somehow I could make it so that self esteem was rooted in true understanding of your worth. Not in other peoples perceptions.
I wish I could walk with you Belle through junior high and high school and whisper in your ear, you are precious and loved! You are enough! You are worth it!
I wish that always you would believe me.

I wish for you Beanie that you would hear your father's voice above all others all the time. That you would know that you are strong and that respect and kindness are much more manly traits than belittling words and selfish tasteless behavior.
I wish that it would make the pressure disappear.

I wish most of all that I could hold on to right now forever. That you would be two and three and happy to play in a blanket fort secure in your place and purpose. Oblivious to the changes and expectations to come.
But I know that part of the blessing of being a Mommy, your Mommy, will be to watch you grow. To watch the struggles you go through and see you emerge victorious on the other side. I will ALWAYS be there for you even when the mistakes and trials are brought on by your own decisions. I will wait and pray as you journey on knowing full well that I can't see the whole picture.

I pray that as you grow you both take your responsibilities seriously. That you will step in when you see injustice, that you will be willing to stand firm even when your world seems to be crumbling. That you will feel the pain of those around you and not just walk on by. That you will brush aside the lies of our society and stand on truth. That you will support and protect each other when others seek to destroy.

This letter may seem premature. You are so young. Your biggest struggles right now consist of wanting to play with the same toy at the same time or wanting an extra piece of candy that has been refused. I am writing now today so that you will never be able to doubt that you have been prayed for, that you have a purpose. No matter the course of the rest of your life you have already made a mark. I love the two of you so much that today I am sharing a little of my heart with the world. You are, in whatever you do, doing it as a child of God and your mark will be eternal. I pray that you always remember and that it becomes written on your hearts,  You are special, You are precious, You are unconditionally loved.

Love,
Mommy